“Agreed,” said Gina. “Let’s keep our noses out of Rebecca’s business. She’s still mad at me about that thing with the sleeping bag, and I didn’t even tell a soul.”

We refrained from mentioning that if we all knew what Gina was talking about, it was literally impossible that she hadn’t told a soul. We just kept walking.

“Sherri came here from out of nowhere, right? Isn’t that sort of strange? I mean, why Newburyport? Does she even have any ties here? It seems random, that’s all. Kind of funny,” said Michelle.

We were certain Michelle was creating a mountain out of a molehill. But sometimes we can all be prone to that tendency. In a town like ours, not a lot happens, and sometimes we look for the excitement where we can get it.

21.

Alexa

Caitlin, who had a summer job peddling jewelry at Bobbles and Lace in Portsmouth, had suggested they meet at Popovers on Congress Street. Alexa, cautiously optimistic, arrived first and saved them a table. When Caitlin slid in across from her she said, “Hey,” breathlessly, followed by, “I’ve only got twenty minutes. It’s crazy at the store today. I’m super stressed.” She was wearing a simple pink sundress and a beaded knot necklace—a bobble, no doubt bought with her employee discount.

Alexa wanted to tell Caitlin she was selling earrings and sandals, not performing open-heart surgery on premature babies, but she bit her tongue. It was the first time she’d hung out with Caitlin since March, and Alexa wanted to see where this might go.

They took turns holding the table and going up to the counter to order their salads. (Alexa had the Wedge and Caitlin the Caesar; each came with a popover, hence the name of the restaurant.)

“Hey, so listen. I’ve been feeling so bad about what happened. That night at Destiny’s, that stupid game, the whole thing. We really didn’t mean to upset you. We feel terrible about it. We talk about it all the time. We never thought we’d go this long without hanging out with you.”

Alexa felt herself softening. “I know I overreacted,” she acknowledged. She’d been just as angry at—felt just as excluded from—her mother and Morgan as she did from Destiny and Caitlin that night, to be fair. “There were a bunch of things bugging me that night, I don’t know, I didn’t mean to take it all out on you guys.”

You can be a little prickly sometimes, Alexa.

One thing she remembered learning about porcupines for a school project in seventh grade was that their quills lay flat until they were threatened. And then, bing, they came out, and victim beware.

Caitlin was looking at her beseechingly. “We wanted to hang out with you so many times, Dest and I. Around graduation and everything? It wasn’t the same without you? But we still felt like you were mad at us. And you were always—busy. With Tyler, I guess? Or whatever. You just weren’t around.”

“Yeah,” said Alexa. “Thanks. I appreciate that. I’ve been pretty busy with a whole bunch of stuff.”

Caitlin glanced at her phone, probably checking the time; she wanted to get back to her hugely taxing job at Bobbles and Lace.

“There’s one more thing,” she said. “To be honest, though? I’m only telling you this to be a good friend? You know that’s the only reason I would ever tell you something like this.”

“What?” Alexa felt her quills rise.

“I’m not mentioning any names but someone I know says they saw Zoe Butler-Gray getting out of Tyler’s car in the parking lot of Blue Inn on Plum Island. Recently.”

Ah. Now Alexa saw why Caitlin asked her to cross state lines and brave the parking on Market Street on a perfect summer day to have lunch with her. It wasn’t to try to mend their friendship, or at least not entirely. It was for this.

Blue Inn was a boutique luxury hotel whose most expensive room went for more than one thousand dollars a night in the summer. There was no way Tyler had either the cash or the desire to take Zoe Butler-Gray to Blue Inn for any sort of rendezvous.

(But did he?)

No! Tyler’s idea of romance, in Alexa’s experience, was limited to the three-for-twelve flower specials at Shaw’s and, on a special occasion, pre-boxed chocolates from one of the downtown stores. He had never bothered even to put together a custom box at Simply Sweet.

She dignified this story with a raised eyebrow, no more, no less. Caitlin shifted in her seat and picked a crouton out of her salad, watching Alexa the whole time.

Alexa’s phone rang with an unfamiliar, local number. Normally she’d decline a call from an unknown number, but she had the urge to show Caitlin that she was busy and important. She answered.

“Alexa?” said the caller. “Hi, sorry, hi, my name is Sherri, my daughter Katie is friends with your sister. Morgan?”

“Okay,” said Alexa. Her mother had mentioned something about a new mother and daughter.

The woman, sounding flustered, went on to explain that she was looking for a babysitter for her daughter and someone on the Mom Squad group chat suggested that she try Alexa. Alexa thought, They let a newcomer on the Mom Squad group chat? As far as Alexa knew, the borders between the Mom Squad and the rest of the world were like those of Castro’s Cuba: closed until further notice.

Alexa turned away from Caitlin and said, “I don’t really babysit.” She wondered which of her mother’s misinformed friends had put forth her name.