“That is what I was going to say, and I’m glad I didn’t, because it seems like it would have made you more insufferable.”

“You know, in my old life, I had a glam squad made up of these four Scandinavian guys named Rod, Ron, Rob, and Roy. I must have picked up a thing or two from watching them do my makeup constantly.”

“Clearly.”

“They had a podcast called The Male Gays. Spelled g-a-y-s.”

“Cute.”

“They were friends with Oprah.”

“Christ.” She then gives me a look. “Do you know you just called it your old life?”

I replay the scene back in my head and hear myself. “Huh.”

“Don’t know what it means, but it’s interesting.” We head toward the door and Kiera adds, “Cillian bought you that dress, you know. At some shop in County Kerry. You loved it but said you’d never wear it. He bought it for you anyway, and you were right, you never wore it.”

“Why?”

“Said something about being afraid of ruining it.”

“It’s a miracle I don’t have plastic casing on the couch.”

I decide to leave Maureen in case Cillian is there and wants to steal her back. Or, I guess, repossess his own dog. I’ll ask him if it’s okay to keep her another night, and give her back if he says no.

Aimee lives only a ten-minute walk from the house, and after about seven minutes, we start to hear music.

She lives in a cute cottage not unlike Surrey House, but it’s bigger and the backyard is enormous. There are tons of people there, and I have to assume it really is the entire population of Avalon.

As soon as I process this, I realize that this was perhaps a very big mistake.

“If it starts to feel weird, we can go,” says Kiera, reading my mind.

“Okay,” I say.

If Kiera’s right and her mom did tell the whole town, then it’ll be a lot of people with questions. It’s the first time since arriving in Avalon that I feel the old LA sensation—the one where I get overwhelmed in a crowd of people because all of them know me and I don’t know any of them. The good news is, I’m used to it.

The people of Avalon are nice, warm, and friendly. What I notice most is that everyone is comfortable. There’s no posturing here. No preening or sucking in of the stomach. The women are all attractive in their way, if not in the cloney Hollywood way. It’s interesting how the lack of vanity has made them all infinitely more appealing. The partygoers chat and throw their heads back in laughter and talk with loud voices over each other. The din is joyful and pleasant, everyone happy to get together.