“Did we ever like him?” Claire asked. “Like, when Astrid first introduced us?”
“Hell no,” Iris said. “I mean, okay, he looks like a god with that hair and those biceps, so maybe we were a bit distracted by that at first. You know, beautiful people getting away with murder and all that.”
“God, I hope he’s not a murderer.”
Iris laughed. “I’m pretty sure all he’s actually guilty of is sitting on his ass with a Scotch and a cigar while Astrid vacuums the living room. In Seattle.”
Claire cracked a smile but continued to simmer. Ever since the engagement, she’d been wary about Spencer, but suddenly, it all seemed to be coming to a boil. Hearing Delilah, someone who didn’t even like Astrid, confirm that Spencer was a total jerk just made it all the more real. And Seattle? Taking her away to a city she hated? God only knew how long she’d been hiding that tidbit from her friends.
“We can’t let her marry him,” Claire said.
Iris froze with her mouth on her wineglass. “We . . . Say what now?”
Claire lowered her voice even more. “You know we can’t.”
Iris shook her head. “Hang on. I thought we were just going to talk to Astrid about Spencer. Let her know our concerns. Where’s this blow up the wedding plan coming from? You know Astrid is gonna Astrid.”
“Yeah, and that woman right there”—she waved her hand toward where their best friend was legit spooning some of her own risotto onto Spencer’s plate—“isn’t Astrid.”
Iris’s eyes narrowed on the scene then locked back onto Claire’s. A million versions of the same question passed between them silently—how, how, how—as the party broke up around them.
Iris stood and pulled Claire with her, sighing very dramatically as she pressed their temples together. They stood there for a second like that, watching all of Isabel’s friends drift off toward the far end of the patio while the caterers started cleaning up. Claire’s eyes found Delilah, camera pointed directly at Claire and Iris before the other woman lowered it and checked the screen. Delilah pressed some buttons on her camera before looking up at Claire, the smallest of smiles on her lips.
Claire felt a swoop in her belly, but she couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment at being photographed or . . . something else.
“Ris, Claire,” Astrid called near the stairs that led into the yard. “Come on, we’re going down to the dock.” Spencer and his buddies were already bounding in that direction in a sea of khaki and Top-Siders. “You too, Del.”
“Oh goody,” Claire heard Delilah say, and couldn’t help the smile that settled on her face.
“Indeed,” Iris answered back.
“I don’t have to hang out with them, do I?” Grant asked from next to Iris, his eyes trained on Spencer and Co. as they stood on the dock in the distance, the amber sun slipping underneath Bright River and turning everyone into backlit shadows.
“No, sweets, you can stick with me,” Iris said, patting his arm.
“Oh, thank god,” he said.
Claire laughed as Iris topped off their glasses and they headed toward the water. She was aware of Delilah behind her but didn’t turn around until they reached the dock. Delilah’s camera swung from her neck, a very full glass of wine in her own hand. She didn’t look at Claire though. Instead, she leaned against one of the tall pines that bordered the bank—god, this woman was always leaning on things—and watched Spencer laugh with his friends.
Astrid stood next to him, sipping her drink and smiling, but for the first time, Claire noticed something icy about her expression. Practiced. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. Maybe it was too dark out here to see anything clearly. The sun had gone completely to sleep, turning the gently rushing water into ink, and the few electric tiki torches that lined the bank were the only light.
“Can we leave for the vineyard now?” Iris asked next to her.
“I wish,” Claire said, but that just caused a whole other set of worries to bloom into her mind. It was only a two-day trip, but Ruby was staying with Josh overnight again, and Claire would be four hours away if anything went badly.
It wouldn’t, she told herself. She had already roped Iris into asking Grant to casually check in on Josh around eight o’clock the next night, stopping by Josh’s apartment for a random beer when really, she’d given him strict instructions to make sure the oven was turned off and there were no candles aflame.
“Shit, these goddamn horseflies,” Spencer said, pulling Claire out of her thoughts. He swatted at his cheek, then his ear.
“Good horsefly,” Iris muttered.
“Go get some bug spray, will you, babe?” Spencer said.
Then he tapped Astrid on the ass. Not a slap, necessarily, but hard enough to jolt her. One of his friends laughed but then covered it up quickly with a swig of wine.
“Sure,” Astrid said evenly. “It is pretty buggy out here.”
When she swept off the dock toward the house, Claire seized the moment, grabbing Astrid’s hand as she passed and pulling her close.
“What’s going on?” Claire asked softly.
“What do you mean?” Astrid asked.
“Seattle?” Iris said. “What the hell is that about?”
Astrid sighed. “We’re not going right away. It’s just something we’re talking about.”
“You love Bright Falls,” Claire said. She couldn’t help the hurt that rose up in her throat.
“Spencer doesn’t,” Astrid said. “He took over the practice here, but he wants to expand, and Bright Falls isn’t built for that.”
“So you’re just going to follow him?” Iris asked, voice raising. “What about your job?”
Us? Claire thought, but couldn’t get the small word off her tongue.
“I can do more in Seattle,” Astrid said. “It’s a bigger market, a bigger—”
“You hate bigger,” Iris said.
Astrid rubbed her forehead. “Look, it’s not definite, okay? We’re just talking about it. And we wouldn’t go for another year or so anyway.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Babe! Where’s that spray?” Spencer called out.
Astrid waved at him, then pressed a kiss to both Claire’s and Iris’s cheeks before hurrying off toward the house.
“Do you know a good lawyer?” Iris asked.
“What?” Claire said, watching Astrid’s form disappear up the porch steps.