“I’ve been to the Alameda Flea Market! That place is wild!” Noelle didn’t know why, because half an hour ago she’d hated this woman, but now she felt compelled to show Miriam that nerding out with her was safe. Miriam didn’t need to dim herself for Noelle. “Hey, do you ever road-trip through rural parts of the Midwest and stop at tiny junk shops in the middle of nowhere? I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“I do, with Cole,” Miriam said. Noelle wondered why Miriam wasn’t taking those trips with her fiancée. “It’s one of my favorite adventures.”

They made eye contact, and Noelle almost smiled. Looking away awkwardly, they sat quietly watching the night.

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Miriam

Noelle was talking to her now, and it was not better than being ignored.

Instead of avoiding her, Noelle was sitting close to her, smelling like Old Spice and citrus shampoo, talking to her about art. Miriam felt herself letting her guard down without even noticing. Being around Noelle felt like pulling on a new pair of jeans that unexpectedly fit perfectly. Miriam had to stop herself, several times, from leaning in to bury her face in Noelle’s neck. She liked women—a lot—but she rarely wanted to nuzzle them within a few days of having met them.

Running her fingers along the arm of the swing, where she and Blue had carved their initials so long ago—they were almost invisible now—she let her brain play leapfrog. From Noelle’s curves and warmth and interest in her art to Tara’s calming no-nonsense steadiness. Miriam and Tara had been texting over the past few days. Brief check-ins about minutiae, “The cheese guy at the farmer’s market said hi, do you want a cheese tray for the shop opening?” and “Do you need me to pick up a dress for my parents’ party or do you have one?”

Nothing that touched her heart or gave her butterflies. Nothing that exposed the pain she was processing or that bittersweet mixture of joy and deep regret at coming home only to realize she’d missed all those years for no good reason.

To be fair, she wasn’t talking to Noelle about those things, either, but she could imagine it. She’d shared a lot of secrets on this porch, once, and Noelle fit there so perfectly that it was easy to picture. It should have scared her, how tempting it was to let Noelle close. She spun her engagement ring until it bit into her palm.