After Sadie left, Renee made her way upstairs. She’d call from Tansy’s bedroom, with its creamy yellow walls, crowded bookshelves, and loft bed. Her prom dresses still hung in the closet, and her stuffed lamb perched on the nightstand. It still smelled like her, a sweet mix of vanilla and brown sugar–body lotion. Renee needed to be here for this phone call, surrounded by Tansy’s old, familiar things. She needed those physical reminders of who her daughter was before she’d moved to California.

She sat on the multicolored rug and leaned her back against the mostly empty dresser.

“Oh Mother, hi.”

Renee heard giggling in the background, and the slam of a car door.

“I’m a little busy. Mia—you remember Mia, right? The girl who lives across the hall? We’re heading—”

“No,” Renee replied immediately, her tone serious and commanding.

“No what?”

“You and I are going to talk now. I don’t care where it is you and your friend were going, I want five minutes.”

“Um, okay?” she replied, taken aback. “What?”

“I just, I just called to say,” Renee took a deep breath. “You’ll be spending your summer in Cranberry Cove, not in Colorado. I’d be open to you going for a week or two, but that’s it.”

“Um, yeah. That’s not happening. Beckett already told his parents I’m coming,” she sniffed haughtily. “I won’t risk upsetting them.”

Renee felt some of the wind escape her. Apparently, Beckett’s parents’ disappointment was more concerning to Tansy than her own mother’s.

“This isn’t some joke, Tansy,” Renee said, her nerves frayed. “I finally got wind of your social media this morning. From the kegs to that shirtless boy you’re constantly draped over like a curtain, your behavior isn’t exactly scholarship material. And smoking cigarettes? Really? What the heck are you thinking? Remember Grandpa’s lung cancer? Hello? I thought you were smarter than that.”

“B-but,” Tansy started to stutter, “you hate social media! How do you even know what I’m posting?”

“A friend brought it to my attention.” Renee decided not to out Sadie. She didn’t want Tansy to know her former babysitter had ratted her out. “You’ve worked your talented little butt off to get where you are. Why risk blowing it? You’re going to be the next Nora Ephron, remember?”

Tansy snorted. “Beckett thinks rom-coms are stupid.”