Haley shut the brochure. It wasn’t the nail polish; it was Josie. Something about her gave Haley a temporary case of impostor syndrome.
“So what do you think?” Josie asked, her pale blue eyes roving the brochure. “It’s very classic New England, right?”
“Classic New England,” Haley repeated, the kind of thing someone would say who grew up in fancier circles than Josie did. You don’t need to pretend around me.
Haley and Josie lost touch in the years after Emma’s disappearance, but when she ran into Josie at a bar in Waverly a year ago, Josie had said that her career gave her a new lease on life, which made Haley wonder if she was trying to make a real estate joke. She’d told Haley how she and Noah had kept in touch while he was in Australia, and how Noah was the only man she’d ever truly loved, the only man who could really understand what she’d gone through because he’d gone through it, too. When Noah and Josie were together, you could sense it: the bond that connected them, a shared tragedy, a gaping hole where Emma should have been. Sometimes it made Haley uneasy, and she wondered if some part of her was jealous that she wasn’t bonded like that with Dean yet.
Do you think I could have stopped Emma from doing it? Josie had asked that night at the bar, her words soaked with wine, and Haley felt the familiar anger surge within her. She didn’t kill herself, she managed to say, and Josie’s eyes had widened like she couldn’t believe Haley could ever be so naive. Haley had changed the topic—there was only so much sadness people could handle in a conversation—and told Josie that she and Dean were considering a move back to Waverly. Josie instantly sobered and launched into real estate mode, seeming to forget that Haley had grown up in Waverly and didn’t need to be sold on it.
Haley let go of a breath as the busyness of the café swirled around her. She knew she was being too quiet; she should seem more enthusiastic about the home with green shutters, and excited about the open house the next morning. “I think it’s a lovely house,” she said.
The corners of Josie’s mouth lifted into a gentle smile. She seemed empathetic in that way, and Haley wondered if it was one of the things Emma had liked so much about her.
They all stared at each other. Josie crossed her slim legs, and her wool trousers lifted an inch to expose a red mark where the strap of her stilettos had rubbed against her skin. Haley wasn’t sure what else she was supposed to say; she wasn’t even sure why they had to meet in person when all these homes were online, but Josie had insisted.
“Hey,” Josie said to the space above Haley’s head, her voice suddenly strained.
Haley swiveled to see Josie’s brother, Chris. They were stepsiblings, and even though they were unrelated by blood, they had the same piercing light blue eyes, which Haley had plenty of time to study because Chris always seemed to hold her gaze for a beat too long. He swiped a black lock of hair from his eyes and said, “What’s up, Haley?”
Chris did admin at Josie and Noah’s company, though you wouldn’t know by looking at him. He was always dressed in flannel, and Josie and Noah always seemed a little embarrassed at the sight of him, though Haley couldn’t figure out why. He was handsome enough to get away with wearing whatever he wanted.
“Nothing,” Haley answered. “You?”
“Nothin’,” he said. He ran his hand over a thick, short beard.
“Do you want to sit?” Haley asked, even though there wasn’t a fourth chair. She made a halfhearted attempt to stand. She couldn’t figure out if Chris had come into the coffee shop by chance, or if he’d come for a work-related reason.
“No, Haley, sit,” Noah said, his voice too hard. He turned to Chris and asked, “Do you have the rest of the brochures?”
Chris shook his head.
Noah turned to Haley, barely able to conceal his irritation. “The house on Carrington is well priced, so we should act quickly tomorrow if you’re interested after the open house,” he said.
Haley sat back and watched as Josie glanced from Chris to Noah. Haley didn’t mind strange family dynamics; she saw so much worse when she worked in the hospital.
Josie turned to Haley and forced a smile. “Tomorrow you’ll see that the house is filled with unexpected details that make you look twice without being over the top,” she said, “and if I know Dean like I think I do, he’ll absolutely love it.”
The comment surprised Haley. Josie didn’t really know Dean that well.
Noah turned to Josie. “How many people are you expecting at the open house?” he asked.
Josie shrugged, quiet for a moment. A new song came on, filtering through the café with a low beat and indecipherable lyrics. “January is a slow month,” she told Haley, not really answering Noah’s question. “And plus there’s the storm we’re supposed to get, which will deter a lot of the New York City people, even if it never comes to pass.”
Haley lifted the porcelain mug to her lips. Even the mugs were artwork for sale, these ones with handles carved into the shapes of fish and osprey. She took a big gulp, feeling the coffee warm her from the inside. She was sweating beneath her hoodie, but it was so deathly cold outside she welcomed it. She’d forgotten about the storm in the forecast. They were predicting a half foot of snow. Noah looked down at his phone, and Haley wondered if he was annoyed. Dean did that when he was irritated with her—he looked anywhere but at her, usually at his phone.
“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” Chris announced. He turned and walked away from them, instantly lost in the swarm of patrons.
Josie’s phone lit up. She snatched it off the table a little too quickly, her face flushing as she read the incoming text. She tossed it into her bag, and said, “I’m sorry to have to run, Haley. I’ve got a two o’clock appointment.”
So do I, at the precinct, actually, Haley thought. “I’ll see you at the open house tomorrow, then,” she said.
“Can’t wait,” Josie said, standing. “Right at eleven? I want you to see it first.”
Haley nodded, lifting her hand in a wave. “Thanks for the coffee,” she said. She felt a little guilty that Josie and Noah usually treated, but they stood to make a lot of money in commission, and they probably didn’t care too much about the five-dollar lattes. It wasn’t like that with Haley and her friends. Most of them were still in their early twenties or midtwenties and could barely make rent. When she lived in the city, Haley had worked as a research assistant in a lab, but the money wasn’t good enough to afford a New York City apartment and eat at the same time, so she’d supplemented it by bartending three shifts at a dive bar on the Lower East Side. And then Dean proposed, and soon after, he asked her to quit the bartending, telling her he could cover their rent so she could save for medical school. He said he couldn’t sleep, always worrying something would happen to her in the middle of the night.
Josie wrapped a white scarf around her neck. “Say goodbye to Chris for me,” she said. She belted her trench, and gave Haley one last apologetic smile before turning with a flash of flowing blond hair, her petite figure carving a path among the customers, then disappearing.
Haley turned to Noah. They hadn’t really had that many one-on-one conversations. He was looking down at his phone, his eyes the tiniest bit sunken, making Haley wonder how hard he still partied. When he looked up, he said, “I’m sure you and Dean will be relieved to find a more permanent situation. Renting is never quite as satisfying as owning a home.”