Alex Lovitt.
Ugh.
Maybe it was time for a switch back.
“Thank you. I always felt bad for letting it go,” I confided. “It was like the one thing that connected me to my dad.”
She nodded sympathetically. “Seriously. What kind of friend am I? We’ve been through thick and thin with each other for ten years, and I didn’t even think to ask about your maiden name.”
“Oh, please. Little details like that are irrelevant to the strength of a friendship. Think about it. I even had Alex’s social security number memorized. A lot of good it did me.” I snickered.
A hint of apprehension skirted her gaze. “You don’t know my maiden name, do you?”
I winked, waving the envelope at her. “Seymour, but I’m nosy like that. It’s what happens when you’re friends with someone your senior. We run background checks, hire PIs, the whole lot.”
She groaned, rolled her eyes, and laughed as I debated opening the envelope.
I smiled and eyed the envelope. I hadn’t seen Keegan since my dad’s death when I was a little girl. How he knew I was here made no sense. Why it mattered to him made even less. And him thinking I’d been here before absolutely baffled me.
Stella walked toward us with a smile. “Care for any more tea, dears?”
“No. I’m fine,” I said quickly, shaking my head.
Her eyes narrowed on mine before dropping to the envelope. “Everything okay, Maeve?”
“Maeve?” I shook my head, uncertain how she knew.
“It’s on the envelope, darling.” She smiled, cocking her head slightly. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Keegan. I know him. Does he live in this town?” The room started to spin slowly around me, but I refused to show any signs that I was about to lose it.
After all, wasn’t it normal to feel abnormal when you’ve lost your entire identity nearly overnight?
Married? Not any longer.
Homeowner? Probably never again.
Mom? Always, but only when phoned now.
Stella’s brows curled as her mouth pursed together. “Live here? Ha! He basically runs the place. Keeps us in check. Makes sure both feet are on the ground for those who don’t think too much of law and order.”
“Oh, is he the mayor or sheriff…”I shook my head, and Frank snorted behind me.
For a bulldog, the creature was very stealthy.
The older woman chuckled. “He likes to think he’s all the above, but he owns the Stonewick Inn. He inherited it from his parents.” Her eyes landed on the envelope again, and my shoulders relaxed.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear of their passing.”
Stella shook her head. “No. They didn’t die. They just retired. Off in the Florida Keys. Hated the bitter cold here. But you couldn’t pay me to live there with the hurricanes.” She shivered. “I’ll take an occasional twenty below zero in Wisconsin anytime over that.”
The spins slowed down, and I let out a deep breath.
“Sure, you don’t want more tea?” she prompted.
Skye shook her head. “We’re running a little late for our readings.”
Stella’s gaze widened. “You’re really trying out all our little town has to offer.”