Page 91 of When We Were Young

“Well, I had help.”

“I know Holden helped you a little bit on the other side,” she says.

I hesitate. They’re going to read into this.

“He did more than a little. He did a ton for me on this side, too. Because of my arm,” I quickly add.

Layla grins. “Because of your arm. Sure.”

The other women break out in laughter, and I try to think of some way to change the subject. But I don’t have to because Ruthie does it for me.

She’s by the island, caressing the quartz countertop,

“Georgie, write something like this into your books. It would be the ideal second-chance setup. I mean, look at this place. It would be the perfect space for a—” she glances over at Layla, “You know what type of scene.”

“What?” Layla asks.

“That’s a food preparation place,” I say quickly, trying to distract her.

Georgie eggs Ruthie on, though. “Right, but romance novels⁠—”

“Okaaaay, why don’t we go get lunch?” Tillie says. “Maybe tone it down to G-rated.”

I’m grateful for the interruption.

We head across the town square to enjoy a leisurely meal at the small diner and spend time filled with girl talk. Layla provides us with plenty of laughter. She regales us with stories about how she’s dreading going back to school because a boy named Noah likes her “like a girlfriend” and tried to hold her hand at the end-of-year class party in June.

The time passes quickly, and before I know it, lunch is over.

As we walk back to my place, it’s hot. Like that heavy end-of-summer heat, and I wish it would rain. One of those cool rains that doesn’t ruin a day but changes everything for an hour or two. Unfortunately, I’m ninety-nine percent sure that’s not gonna happen.

“It’s hotter than a⁠—”

“Ruthie, stop there,” Tillie warns.

“We should go swimming,” Layla blurts out. “Just the girls. Well, and Uncle Harry, because he lives there. And maybe Uncle Holden because I’m working with him.”

“Working with him?” Tillie asks. “On what?”

“Uh...” Layla’s expression tells me she didn’t mean to tell us about this. “I can’t say right now. It’s private, but it’s a good thing.”

“Oh, boy. I think I know,” Ruthie says. She winks at Layla. “Let me know if you need any help there, Ladybug. You know I’ve got lots of ideas.”

Uh, oh. Even in my short time in Aron Falls, I’ve learned that those two working together usually means trouble.

“Okay, thanks, Ruthie. I think I got this one, though.” Layla shrugs confidently. “He’s easy to figure out.”

I’m not sure if this “work” she’s talking about scares me or intrigues me. Maybe both.

When we get back to my place, we’re all hot and decide a cup of lemonade and a rest for a few minutes sounds perfect. Almost immediately after we get there, my mom arrives, bringing Simon home from an overnight stay.

As soon as Simon and Layla see each other, they grin from ear to ear, and Simon pulls out his new bug book to show her. Within seconds, they move to a table away from the adults and chatter away as they look through the pages.

“Mom, these are my friends,” I tell her.

I introduce them one by one, and she makes small talk with Ruthie for a few minutes after meeting everyone.

When she’s ready to go, she kisses Simon goodbye, and I walk her out. Once outside, I’m surprised when I glance over at her and find her eyes glassy with unshed tears.