Alice didn’t stop to question how Rod knew this about her. The topics of the Kurnai Bay grapevine were many and varied. She’d probably been spotted once, back in the day, drinking a G&T and the label had stuck, despite the fact she drank far more sauv blanc and pinot gris than anything else.

“The hot beer’s for that obnoxious bloke on green six.”

Rod squinted across the greens that were mostly dotted with family groups. “The bikers?”

“No. They were sweet and polite. It’s the jet-ski mob. No manners on or off the water.” Alice caught movement in her peripheral vision and turned. “Welcome to barefoot—Lucy! Nick! I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Daddy and I are going to play bowling,” her six-year-old niece announced proudly.

“Sensational!” Alice jumped up and hugged them both. As she peered over the breadth of Nick’s shoulder, she glanced down the path. “No Libby?”

“She’s at the playground with the kids.”

“Kids?”

“We’re minding Leo tonight. Apparently Jess has a hot date.”

The green snake stirred. “Lucky Jess,” Alice said brightly. “Tourist or townie? Anyone we know?”

“Leo and Indi are too little to bowl,” Lucy informed her with the superior glee of an older child.

Alice didn’t mention that Lucy was barely old enough or strong enough to lift a bowl. That wasn’t much of a consideration when the highlight for Lucy was having her father to herself for half an hour. Alice remembered those special childhood moments with her own father. Every now and then he’d say, “Ally-Oop, grab your sketch book,” and they’d drive to his favorite spot on the Tambo River. While Peter fished, Alice would sit on the camp stool and keep him company, drawing birds and flowers or unicorns and clouds depending on her mood. She’d adored those quiet and companionable afternoons and now her fingers twitched with a sudden desire to grip a pencil. That hadn’t happened in a long time—not since she’d moved in with Lawrence. Perhaps she should suggest a fishing trip to her father when he got back from Melbourne.

“You’re having dinner with us in the restaurant after this,” Nick said, adding when she gave him a blank look, “Libs did text you, right?”

Since Alice’s foray into online dating, she’d been checking her phone far too often, but there hadn’t been a text from Libby. Something about the way Nick asked the question—frustration overlaid with concern—made her wonder if Libby was having another rough patch. Alice wanted desperately to believe in the adage “time heals all wounds”—for them both—but the problem was that time was the unknown factor. If Nick was worried, then she should be too. Guilt needled her. Had she been so self-indulgent about her own hot mess of a life that she hadn’t noticed? God, her twin radar needed recalibrating.