“Living in the bay in a lovely home by the water with a man you love who’s earning a decent income is nothing like living there with your mother.”
Did Libby realize she’d just described herself?
Excitement skipped in Libby’s voice. “Plus, it’s a fabulous place to bring up kids. Think about it. Will is to Nick what you are to me. Best friends. Family. Our kids would grow up together like cousins.”
A picture formed in Jess’s mind and a spurt of excitement sent jitters hurtling through her. “Perhaps I should come down and visit.”
Libby squealed and clapped her hands. “When you do, I’ll get Nick to invite Will out on the boat. Oh, wait! I’ve got a better idea. Nick can give Will a free hire and he can take you. The two of you alone on a yacht, job done!”
The past unexpectedly rose up and slapped her. “You mean just like you and Nick?”
Libby beamed. “Exactly.”
Chapter Three
The six o’clock sun bore down on the bowling greens at the RSL club, which were open to the public for the evening. Many barefoot tourists were attempting to master the fine art of lawn bowling with a drink in their hand. The sea breeze usually brought some relief from the heat, but this evening it was absent, leaving the tidal lake a still and silver pond, rippled only by the occasional cormorant diving deep for its fish dinner. The dry heat shimmered above the damp turf and even sitting in the shade of an umbrella, Alice felt rivulets of sweat running down her belly. Why had she allowed herself to be talked into volunteering tonight?
Because online dating’s been going so well.
Calling it dating was a stretch. So far her “matches” were not striking. Three men had sent her identical messages: Hello, Gorgeous. I love your smile. They were either the same guy or all had read somewhere that this was the opener that guaranteed a positive response. It had such an opposite effect on her that when a fourth guy sent her the text, S’up she’d been tempted to respond.
Meanwhile, she’d carefully read the profiles of all the matches and written to two, starting with hello, reminding them who she was and asking a question based on the interests listed in their profile. She hadn’t received a response from either of them. Had they been overwhelmed by three paragraphs of grammatically correct sentences?
Wishing she could shove her feet into the cooler full of ice, she bent down and plucked a cold can of beer from the drinks selection and rolled it over her hot skin.
The president of the bowling club shot her a disapproving look. “Hey , Alice love. No one’s gonna buy hot beer.”
She dropped the can back onto the ice. “Don’t stress, Rod. We’ve already made a nice fat profit tonight and we’ve still got one very hot hour to go. Besides, I’ve got plans for that beer.”
“Thought you were a gin and tonic girl?”
Alice didn’t stop to question how Rod knew this about her. The topics of the Kurnai Bay grapevine were many and varied. She’d probably been spotted once, back in the day, drinking a G&T and the label had stuck, despite the fact she drank far more sauv blanc and pinot gris than anything else.
“The hot beer’s for that obnoxious bloke on green six.”
Rod squinted across the greens that were mostly dotted with family groups. “The bikers?”
“No. They were sweet and polite. It’s the jet-ski mob. No manners on or off the water.” Alice caught movement in her peripheral vision and turned. “Welcome to barefoot—Lucy! Nick! I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Daddy and I are going to play bowling,” her six-year-old niece announced proudly.
“Sensational!” Alice jumped up and hugged them both. As she peered over the breadth of Nick’s shoulder, she glanced down the path. “No Libby?”
“She’s at the playground with the kids.”
“Kids?”
“We’re minding Leo tonight. Apparently Jess has a hot date.”
The green snake stirred. “Lucky Jess,” Alice said brightly. “Tourist or townie? Anyone we know?”
“Leo and Indi are too little to bowl,” Lucy informed her with the superior glee of an older child.
Alice didn’t mention that Lucy was barely old enough or strong enough to lift a bowl. That wasn’t much of a consideration when the highlight for Lucy was having her father to herself for half an hour. Alice remembered those special childhood moments with her own father. Every now and then he’d say, “Ally-Oop, grab your sketch book,” and they’d drive to his favorite spot on the Tambo River. While Peter fished, Alice would sit on the camp stool and keep him company, drawing birds and flowers or unicorns and clouds depending on her mood. She’d adored those quiet and companionable afternoons and now her fingers twitched with a sudden desire to grip a pencil. That hadn’t happened in a long time—not since she’d moved in with Lawrence. Perhaps she should suggest a fishing trip to her father when he got back from Melbourne.
“You’re having dinner with us in the restaurant after this,” Nick said, adding when she gave him a blank look, “Libs did text you, right?”
Since Alice’s foray into online dating, she’d been checking her phone far too often, but there hadn’t been a text from Libby. Something about the way Nick asked the question—frustration overlaid with concern—made her wonder if Libby was having another rough patch. Alice wanted desperately to believe in the adage “time heals all wounds”—for them both—but the problem was that time was the unknown factor. If Nick was worried, then she should be too. Guilt needled her. Had she been so self-indulgent about her own hot mess of a life that she hadn’t noticed? God, her twin radar needed recalibrating.
Protecting Libby, she said, “My bad. Ditzy Alice strikes again.”
Nick was pulling out his wallet. “How much will this set me back?”
“Ten dollars for you and Lucy’s free. Any drinks?”
“I’ll have a pale ale. Lucy-Goose, do you want some lemonade?”
The little girl’s brown eyes—so much
