“How did Theo end up in Avalon?” I ask. “We all may as well have stayed in Florida.”

I regret saying it as she gives me a look, and I give a cringey expression of don’t hate me, it’s a joke. She seems to choose not to give me shit for it, which I appreciate, settling on an eye roll.

She puts her hands on her hips. “Well. We broke up when I moved. But we never lost touch. He went to community college for a while and then ended up getting accepted to Cornell.” She pauses for my shock, which I give her. “After he graduated, I asked him to come here. I said I’d go to him, but he said he’d rather see things outside of our broken country. I told him things are broken everywhere, but he came anyway. It took some time with the visa bullshit, but eventually we were both able to settle down here because his father is from the UK. We got married a little over four years ago.”

“I heard he got fired. What was he doing?” I ask her.

“He wasn’t fired, Meg, he was laid off. He’s a plant breeding specialist. He works in genetics and plant biology to create new species.”

I can’t bring myself to look impressed even though I am.

“I guess that explains the weed he used to grow,” I say.

“Eh, not really.” She adds, “That was because he liked it.”

I see that she’s kidding, and I feel free to laugh. We both do.

Kiera comes over with two drinks and hands them to us. “I want to keep the conversation lubricated. Carry on.” She then does a funny little bow and runs away.

“Kiera,” Aimee says. “Funny girl.”

“So, wait, tell me about your play,” I say, remembering.

She blushes and I watch her smile fade. “Oh, it’s nothing. Silly. Nightmare actually.”

“I mean, you’re directing it, right? And wrote it?”

“Oh, well … yeah.”

When she offers no more explanation, I take a sip of my drink. “Okay, so what’s it about?”

“Ah … friendship? I suppose?”

The way she doesn’t meet my eyes tells me it might be in part inspired by our friendship.

“I can’t wait to see it.”

She looks suddenly stressed. “If it happens.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean … I don’t have a second act. So.”

“What? How? Isn’t it—”

She gives me a deathly glare and I back down.