“So he’s giving me this weird look, which makes CJ look at me, too, and then she asks me what I think, and before I can answer, Sawyer goes, ‘Oh, she likes beards, don’t you, Evie?’”

“Have you ever noticed that he always calls you Evie, and no one else does?”

She waved dismissively. “That’s just always what he used to call me.”

“Yeah, but why does he still?”

Eve ignored her. She had to get this out. “So he says, ‘You like beards, don’t you?’ And I say…” Oh, it was so painful. “‘Not historically.’”

Maya made a face that was a cross between sympathetic and amused. “Which totally implies that you like them now.”

“It does, right?” She’d been hoping there was some other interpretation.

“I think it does.” Maya cracked up again.

Eve slumped against the back of her chair and moaned.

“All right.” Maya tapped Eve on the shoulder. “Let’s go. Maybe you can wish your way out of this.”

Eve allowed herself to be led downstairs. Part of her wanted to go home—well, to the inn—and hide under a rock forever. But she’d already seen Sawyer so many times, what would hiding accomplish?

At A Rose by Any Other Name, they chatted with Maya’s parents and were given some impostor flowers for their outing.

“I didn’t realize your mom worked at the store,” Eve said.

“Mom’s a nuclear engineer up at the Bruce plant, so she has a long commute. She helps out at the store on weekends, though.”

“So your father is a florist, and your mother is a nuclear engineer?” Eve asked. “You don’t see that every day.”

“I know. Let’s just say traditional gender role BS was refreshingly absent from my childhood.”

“How come you never work at the store?”

It was Maya’s turn to sigh. “Because I want to do my own thing. I want to do theater. Why do I have to be a florist because my dad’s a florist?”

“Do we need to talk about this? I think maybe we’ve been spending too much time lately talking about me.” She was a bad friend.

Maya made a sheepish face. “Well, it’s the source of some conflict. Am I just going to let my father’s empire crumble when he’s gone while I make a very poor living playing dress-up? Let’s wait and find out!”

“No,” Eve said. “Because you’re smartly trying to diversify your activities so you can keep doing what you love. That’s what the summer camp is for!”

They chatted about Maya’s camp plans as they strolled toward the lake in what had become a monthly ritual.

Maya steered her to one end of the pier. “So whatcha gonna wish for?” She performed an exaggerated wink.

“Not that.”

“You sure about that?”