this is a building for weddings and stuff?”
“Yep. But there are plenty of great places to get married or have a party around here, so the barn has to be special. That’s what I’m calling it. The Barn at Blue Heron. Do you love it?”
“I do! Very classy.” Colleen smiled. “So you’re back, Faith! You’re here! This is so great. I’ve missed having you around. You’re staying for two months?”
“Give or take. I talked to Liza last night and get the impression that Wonderful Mike is living there.”
“Don’t let him kick you out. I love having a place in Frisco.”
“San Francisco. Only the tourists call it Frisco.”
“I stand corrected, you snob.” She waved to the server—they’d gotten their drinks at the bar from Jessica Dunn, who’d barely said hello, but this guy was male, and as such, nearly fell over himself running to the table.
“Hi, Colleen,” he said warmly. “Haven’t seen you in a while. You look incredible.” He ignored Faith completely and leaned against the table, his ass on Faith’s bread plate. This was the problem with having a beautiful nymph for a friend. Men swarmed around Colleen like mosquitoes around a hemophiliac. “I get off in an hour,” the waiter added.
“Great!” Colleen said, tossing her dark hair back so he could see her boobs a bit better. “Do I know you? You’re very cute.”
The waiter made a huffy noise and straightened up. Faith pushed the plate away with the blunt end of her knife. “You don’t remember me?” the waiter asked. “Wow.”
“Why? Did we have a baby together? Are we secretly married? Wait, didn’t I give you a kidney?” Colleen smiled as she spoke, and Faith sensed the waiter softening.
“You’re such a tramp,” he said warmly.
“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful,” Colleen said, batting her eyelashes. “Can we get another round?”
“I also need another bread plate,” Faith said.
The waiter ignored her. “Greg. My name is Greg.”
“Greg.” Colleen said the word like she was tasting it. “Can we get another round, Greg? Time’s a-wastin’. And at my bar, I wouldn’t keep the customer waiting.” O’Rourke’s was indeed the place to be, home of the best wine list in town as well as seventeen different microbrews and fantabulous nachos to boot. They’d come to Hugo’s because Colleen wouldn’t be able to talk if she was at her own place.
Plus, Faith was sort of easing back into Manningsport. And hiding from Jeremy, let’s be honest, who was a regular at O’Rourke’s. Not only was Jeremy the town doctor, he also gave to every charity that came a-knocking, sponsored four Little League teams and owned a vineyard, employing about a dozen people. He was probably the most popular man in town, if not on Planet Earth.
“Another round it is,” Greg said, touching the back of Colleen’s hand. “On the house to make up for the delay.” Because, yes, she was that beautiful, she could stab him in the eye with her fork, and he’d still want to take her home.
“You’re a witch or something,” Faith said as the waiter walked away. “I’m filled with admiration.”
“I may have slept with him this summer. Images are coming back to me. A white shag rug, a crisp, dry Riesling, from Blue Heron, of course... Anyway, have you run into any old friends or enemies?”
“Jessica Dunn is shooting me the death stare as we speak,” Faith said. “Is she still slutty?”
“Can’t say that I know. Have you seen anyone else?”
“Theresa DeFilio. She’s expecting again. Isn’t that nice?”
“So nice. And what about anyone else?” Colleen asked, narrowing her pretty eyes. “Anyone male who used to be engaged to you whose name starts with, oh, I don’t know...J?”
Faith sighed. “I emailed him, okay? Are you proud? We’re getting together next week.”
Colleen sighed. “Do you still talk to his parents?”
Faith nodded. “Yep. We had lunch down in Pacific Grove last month.”
“You’re a saint.”
“That’s true. But if someone calls me ‘poor thing’ one more time, I may go postal and kill everyone around me. Except children and dogs. And old people. And you. And Connor. Fine, I won’t kill anyone. But it’s driving me crazy.”
“I know!” Colleen said happily. “I’m suddenly really popular, too. Even more popular, I should say. People come in and plunk themselves down and say, ‘Coll, is she...’ tragic pause ‘...okay?’ And I say, ‘Sure! Why? Oh, you mean because Dr. Perfect dumped her at the altar? Ancient history, friend! She barely remembers.’”
“Thank you!” Faith said. “I’ve been getting these looks every time I go out. Did you see how Hugo came out to talk to me? First time ever.” She took a slug of her martini. “I’ve been coming here all my life, and the owner only just spoke to me today.”
“Don’t worry, hon,” Colleen said. “The gossips will find something else to talk about. Someone’s wife will cheat or someone will embezzle from the library board and they’ll all think about something other than you and Jeremy.”
“We can only hope,” Faith said.
Greg brought them their drinks and some cute little egg rolls, smiling at Colleen and ignoring Faith, who swiped another bread plate from an empty table.
“Hey, speaking of the library,” Faith said, “Julianne Kammer, remember her? Skinny, brown hair, very nice, threw up in seventh grade during the math test?”
“Yes, I remember. I’m not the one who’s been living on the left coast, honey.”
“Right,” Faith said. “Well, she asked me to do a job while I’m here in town. The little courtyard behind the children’s wing. I’m gonna have a little maze, see. Kids love that stuff. And I said I’d do it for free. Because I’m so nice.”
“And a little drunk, am I right? How is it that a Holland can’t hold her liquor?”
“I’m a throwback to my Puritan ancestors.” Hmm. Yes. She might be slurring a little.
“So is the time right for you to come back permanently? Frisco was never supposed to be your forever home.”
“San Francisco.”
“Right, right, please forgive me. Hold that thought, I have to hit the ladies’ room.” Colleen got up, leaving Faith alone.
Faith took another sip of her martini, despite her increasingly numb tongue, and glanced around. Hugo’s had been a good choice; it was quieter here, designed more for the tourist industry than a year-round, townie kind of place. The view of the lake was gorgeous, the tablecloths were crisp and white, sprigs of orchids in little vases. A group was just being seated; they’d been at Blue Heron today.
