In tune to the sounds of the bar around them—someone singing off-key to “Sweet Home Alabama,” rambunctious laughter from a nearby table, the clink of pool balls—Piper rolled her eyes.

“You know one day those eyeballs are going to fall right out of your head, right?”

Ignoring this, Piper went back to what she’d been doing before being so rudely interrupted by all the love. Making a list. She was big on bullet journaling. She’d had to be. Making notes and lists had saved her life more than once. And yes, she knew she could do it all on a notes app on her phone instead, but her brain wasn’t wired that way. Nope, she had to do everything the hard way and write that shit down by hand like in the Dark Ages. She flipped through some of her pages: Calendars, Grocery Lists, Future Baby Names (even though she didn’t plan on having babies), Passwords (okay, password, singular, since she always used the same one—CookiesAreLife123!).

And then there were some random entries:

Life Rules

• Occasionally maybe make an effort to look nice.
• Don’t cut your own bangs no matter how sad you are.
• Never ever, EVER, under any circumstances fall in love.

She also had a bucket list of wishes. Oh, and a secret secret bucket list of wishes . . .

Yeah, she clearly needed help. Or a little pill.

“New journal?” Jenna asked.

“Maybe.” Piper’s vices were simple. Basically, she was an office supply ho—a never-ending source of amusement to Jenna, because Piper was also a bit of a hot mess when it came to organization and neatness. Her purse, her car, her office, and also her kitchen always looked like a disaster had just hit. But her journals . . . those were pristine.

“How many journals have you started and either lost or misplaced since I’ve known you—a million?”

Piper didn’t answer this on the grounds that she might incriminate herself.

Jenna pulled out the pack of stickers that were tucked into the journal. They were cute little thought bubbles with reminders like DOC APPOINTMENT, EMPTY DISHWASHER, and CAFFEINATE.

“I feel like stickers are cheating,” Jenna said.

“Bite your tongue, woman. Stickers are everything.” So were pens. And cute paper clips. And sticky notes . . .

“Come on. There’re far more important things than stickers.”

“Like?” Piper asked.

“Like food.”

“Okay, you’ve got me there.”

“And sex,” Jenna said. “And that should go above food, actually.”

“I’m going to take your word on that since it’s been a while.”

“Well, whose fault is that?” Jenna leaned in, trying to get a peek. “What’s today’s entry?”

“A list for figuring out what’s next on fixing up the property.” Piper and her siblings had inherited from their grandparents a house and some cottages on Rainbow Lake. “It still needs a lot of work. I’m in way over my head.”