unknown woman turned her attention to me before either could respond. “And you must be Iris Holder.”
Like I had done with Mae the day before, I struggled to remember if I had met this person before. I would guess that she was a few years older than us, though with skin that perfect, it was hard to tell. Unlike many of the islanders I’d met so far, her jeans and sweater could accurately be described as trendy, and her medium-length blonde hair was highlighted and cut in a style I was pretty sure she hadn’t gotten at Curlicues, the island salon. Really pretty, I thought to myself. But definitely not familiar.
“Uh…” I looked to Posey, unsure of how to respond, but the woman continued, reaching for my hands. “I’ve heard so much about you from your cousin and your grandmother. I do hope you’ll make it to our Libbies meeting on Wednesday.”
I had no idea what this woman was talking about, but I hardly cared when Margo responded with a roll of her eyes. “Sorry, ladies. I’m going to need something stronger than mulled wine in me if I’m going to try to listen to Libbies talk. Posey, Libby, nice to see you.” Her eyes scanned my face quickly, clearly not pleased with what she saw. “Iris. Welcome back. I hope you enjoy your visit.” With that, she turned on her heel and stalked away across the grassy lawn.
The stranger turned back to me, rolling her eyes. “That woman. I swear. She’s more sour than the limoncello Cora is serving at the pub.” She squeezed my hands before releasing them. “So. How was your trip up?”
I gaped at her before glancing back to Posey. I was glad this lady had saved us from Margo, but I had no idea who in the hell she was, or how I was supposed to respond.
“Iris,” Posey said, clearly trying not to laugh. I wondered how bewildered my expression must be. “This is my friend, Olivia Johnson.”
“Libby to my friends,” she said, reaching out again and shaking my hand. “Which you officially are. Friends of Posey’s are friends of mine.”
Still feeling more than a little overwhelmed by this complete stranger’s overt display of affection, I nodded. “Nice to meet you, Libby.”
We had finally reached the front of the line and got our cups of mulled wine—which meant another greeting from a stranger, Cora this time, who also somehow seemed to know all about me. When we had our cups and were walking away, Libby bumped my shoulder with hers. “This is probably so weird for you, isn’t it? Coming into a small town where all these strangers think they know you.”
She was smiling, her face sympathetic, though her eyes were dancing in amusement, and I decided that I liked this woman, slightly overwhelming as she was. “It is weird,” I confessed. “I don’t remember it being like this when I used to visit.”
“Everyone knew who you were back then, too,” Posey argued. “You just didn’t notice because you were too busy playing with your cousins and having fun.” She shook her head. “Now you don’t remember what fun is and you’re way too busy worrying about work and—”
“Hey!” I cried. “I have fun!”
She raised her eyebrows. “Since you got here?”
“I’ve been here for twenty-four hours, Pose.”
She waved her hands dismissively. “I can squeeze tons of fun into twenty-four hours.”
I gestured around the fish fry with a deadpan look. “Oh, yes. Look at how much fun.”
Libby was laughing at us. “It probably all seems terribly country-bumpkin to you, doesn’t it?”
“No,” I said immediately, feeling bad. It was one thing to tease my cousin, but I barely knew Libby, and she was more than likely infected with the same disease as everyone else on the island—the strange belief that it was the greatest place on earth and everyone should love it like they did.
“It’s okay,” she told me. “It can be a little much sometimes. But it really is a nice place to live. I hope you enjoy your time here.”
“I’m sure I
Like I had done with Mae the day before, I struggled to remember if I had met this person before. I would guess that she was a few years older than us, though with skin that perfect, it was hard to tell. Unlike many of the islanders I’d met so far, her jeans and sweater could accurately be described as trendy, and her medium-length blonde hair was highlighted and cut in a style I was pretty sure she hadn’t gotten at Curlicues, the island salon. Really pretty, I thought to myself. But definitely not familiar.
“Uh…” I looked to Posey, unsure of how to respond, but the woman continued, reaching for my hands. “I’ve heard so much about you from your cousin and your grandmother. I do hope you’ll make it to our Libbies meeting on Wednesday.”
I had no idea what this woman was talking about, but I hardly cared when Margo responded with a roll of her eyes. “Sorry, ladies. I’m going to need something stronger than mulled wine in me if I’m going to try to listen to Libbies talk. Posey, Libby, nice to see you.” Her eyes scanned my face quickly, clearly not pleased with what she saw. “Iris. Welcome back. I hope you enjoy your visit.” With that, she turned on her heel and stalked away across the grassy lawn.
The stranger turned back to me, rolling her eyes. “That woman. I swear. She’s more sour than the limoncello Cora is serving at the pub.” She squeezed my hands before releasing them. “So. How was your trip up?”
I gaped at her before glancing back to Posey. I was glad this lady had saved us from Margo, but I had no idea who in the hell she was, or how I was supposed to respond.
“Iris,” Posey said, clearly trying not to laugh. I wondered how bewildered my expression must be. “This is my friend, Olivia Johnson.”
“Libby to my friends,” she said, reaching out again and shaking my hand. “Which you officially are. Friends of Posey’s are friends of mine.”
Still feeling more than a little overwhelmed by this complete stranger’s overt display of affection, I nodded. “Nice to meet you, Libby.”
We had finally reached the front of the line and got our cups of mulled wine—which meant another greeting from a stranger, Cora this time, who also somehow seemed to know all about me. When we had our cups and were walking away, Libby bumped my shoulder with hers. “This is probably so weird for you, isn’t it? Coming into a small town where all these strangers think they know you.”
She was smiling, her face sympathetic, though her eyes were dancing in amusement, and I decided that I liked this woman, slightly overwhelming as she was. “It is weird,” I confessed. “I don’t remember it being like this when I used to visit.”
“Everyone knew who you were back then, too,” Posey argued. “You just didn’t notice because you were too busy playing with your cousins and having fun.” She shook her head. “Now you don’t remember what fun is and you’re way too busy worrying about work and—”
“Hey!” I cried. “I have fun!”
She raised her eyebrows. “Since you got here?”
“I’ve been here for twenty-four hours, Pose.”
She waved her hands dismissively. “I can squeeze tons of fun into twenty-four hours.”
I gestured around the fish fry with a deadpan look. “Oh, yes. Look at how much fun.”
Libby was laughing at us. “It probably all seems terribly country-bumpkin to you, doesn’t it?”
“No,” I said immediately, feeling bad. It was one thing to tease my cousin, but I barely knew Libby, and she was more than likely infected with the same disease as everyone else on the island—the strange belief that it was the greatest place on earth and everyone should love it like they did.
“It’s okay,” she told me. “It can be a little much sometimes. But it really is a nice place to live. I hope you enjoy your time here.”
“I’m sure I
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