Page 18 of Sweet Summertide

“Oh, my goodness.” Holly slapped her forehead. “Why didn’t I realize that!”

Millie nudged her shoulder. “You’re an out-of-towner.”

“I live in Elizabethtown, literally a couple miles away from here,” Holly said. “And do I need to remind you, you’re an out-of-towner too?”

“Maybe I was for a while, but I’ve been here for months longer than you,” Millie said with a smirk that indicated she had won this round. “I know things now.”

Vi joined them standing beside the fireplace. “You know what they say about small towns?”

“Where everyone knows everything and everybody?” Holly answered, confident she was correct.

“Small towns are made up of big dreams,” Vi said and winked. “I only ever lived in one place, until I came here almost two years ago. I could have never opened a boutique like the one I have now in the city. There are about a thousand shops, all competing for the same customers. Rent is outrageous, for anywhere good anyway, and the chance of succeeding there and keeping one’s mental stability intact is low.”

“So, the Cove, huh?” Holly asked.

“Tell me why you chose to open your creamery here and not in E-town, or anywhere else for that matter?” Vi asked with genuine curiosity not as someone trying to undermine or manipulate her in some way like Holly might expect her own mother would do.

“Economic growth potential is the reason on the books at the bank,” Holly said and looked at her lime green strappy heels hoping to see a different answer there. “And my parents would only back me if I moved closer to home. Is that silly?”

Vi put a hand on Holly’s forearm where it was crossed in front of her stomach. “No, dear. It’s not silly. It’s realistic, and there is not a thing wrong with that.”

“She’s right,” Millie said and handed Holly and Vi glasses of rosé. “You’ve got to start somewhere. Why not here?”

“Cheers to that!” Holly said. They clinked their glasses and sipped the sparkling pink wine. “Vi, are you going for the grant money?”

“I’m all set, and I’d rather it be awarded to someone who really needs it.”

“You’re not the secret benefactor, are you?” Millie asked.

Vi choked on her drink a little and smiled. “No. But I know who it is, which is another reason I’m stepping out of the running. What about you?” Vi said as they were joined by Thandie.

Holly nodded. “I could really use it. My parents are tiring of supporting my whims. So, the faster I can be self-supporting, the better for us all. My mother really wants me to go into the business with her, meet a nice man from the country club, and be just like her.”

“What’s her business?” Vi asked. “I gather from your previous statement that your father is in finance.”

“He’s a banker. My mother owns H&B Farms. She raises racing horses.”

“I know it. Horse and Bridle Farms?” Jenny said, overhearing their conversation from the sofa. “My husband’s family owns Townsend’s. We have the farm on the far side of the county.”

“How have we never met? Surely, we would have run into each other at local events.” Holly said.

“I don’t like all the pomp, plus my husband’s brother raises the horses. We raise the babies,” Jenny said.

“Did I hear you say babies, as in plural?” America said as she reentered the parlor.

Jenny shook her head. “I’m not pregnant again. But I won’t lie. Cam and I have been talking about trying for another baby soon.”

“Like tonight?” America teased. “I mean, look at you. If he doesn’t want this, then I don’t know if it’ll ever happen.” Jenny showed off her outfit, a slinky wrap-dress the color of raspberry jam. “I’d have a baby with you looking like that.”

“America,” Vi scolded.

“What? She’s hot.” America giggled at herself.

This group of women, all fiercely confident in who they were, fascinated Holly. She hoped to be like them someday instead of pretending and hiding behind the girly persona she had built for herself. The fact was, she had always been a girly-girl, even on the farm, but she had begun to use it as a shield against people who consistently undervalued her. At some point, her frilly dresses and red lipstick had become her whole personality.

While all the women present that night were beautiful, Holly wondered if any of them silently struggled with self-doubt like she did.

A knock rattled the front door and broke Holly’s train of thought. America put down her glass and an unopened bottle on the marble coffee table. “Food’s here.” She stepped out of the room for a moment and returned with an older woman wearing a flowy white eyelet dress, and a giddy Alfonso carrying a three-tiered tray wrapped in yellow cellophane. “You can put it there on the table.”

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