My neighborhood. Two weeks in Montana and I still couldn’t believe I lived here. That this was home.
This was my coffee shop. The tourists taking up every table were visiting my town. The Memorial Day parade later this morning would honor the fallen in my community.
Mine. Calamity was mine.
From the charming shops along First, to the welcoming neighborhoods, to the rugged countryside, there was a lot to love.
Pierce had moved here two years ago, even though Grays Peak had its headquarters in Denver. After about a year of working remotely, he’d decided it was time to establish a satellite office. When he’d asked me if I’d consider a move, I’d immediately agreed.
Twenty of us would be making Calamity home. Construction on the office building had just finished, and the keys were safely tucked in my purse. I’d be working in the space alone for a while until the others arrived.
Everyone else moving to Montana had kids. They’d wait until the school year was finished before making the trip. But there’d been nothing keeping me in Denver.
My parents had left the city three years ago, relocating to Arizona for milder winters. After too many years working in the dirt, hunched over flower beds, Dad’s knees bothered him in the cold.
There’d been no friends begging me to stay. Certainly no love interests. When was the last time I’d gone on a date? A year ago? I made a mental note to delete my dating profile.
I hadn’t missed Denver for a minute. The only blemish on my first two weeks in Calamity was Cal. I’d chastise Kerrigan and Pierce later for failing to mention that he was moving here too.
“Nellie,” a woman called my name.
I spun around, seeing Larke breeze through the coffee shop’s doors. The UPS guy was the only one behind me, so I shifted aside. “You can go in front of me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep.” I motioned him forward, then hugged Larke as she joined me in line. “Hey!”
“Hi! How are you?”
“Good. Congratulations, Aunt Larke.”
“Thanks.” Her smile widened, making her look more like Kerrigan. The sisters had the same chestnut hair and pretty brown eyes. “She’s so cute and tiny.”
Pierce and Kerrigan had a beautiful baby girl. Constance Sullivan had joined the world in the early hours yesterday morning. They’d been released from the hospital already and had decided to get out of town for a few days, retreating to their cabin in the mountains. Though cabin wasn’t exactly the right term. More like a mountain ski lodge.
“What are you up to?” Larke asked.
“Oh, nothing much. I came down for coffee before the parade and to do a little wandering.”
“Smart. It will be crazy busy in about an hour.”
“I was thinking of taking an adventure to the hardware store. I’ve dug through every remaining box in my house, and I can’t find my Swiffer wand or my can opener.”
“Well, after the excitement of the hardware store, I doubt I’ll be able to compete,” she teased. “But a few of us are meeting at Jane’s this afternoon. You should join us.”
“Oh, um . . . sure.”
“It’s just a small group of girlfriends. There aren’t a lot of women our age in Calamity, so we tend to stick together.”
“Sounds fantastic.” My voice was too bright. My stomach began to knot. I wasn’t good at joining girl groups. Not that I didn’t like them, I just didn’t have much experience.
The line inched forward, the two of us shuffling along with it.
“I’ll warn you that we mostly gossip,” Larke said. “Most of us grew up here, so we know everyone in town. If we talk about other people the whole time, it’s not to leave you out. It’s just . . . that’s what we know.”
“Got it.” At least I had been warned instead of showing up and feeling like the outsider.
Maybe she could sense my unease because she put a hand on my forearm and gave it a squeeze. “It’s a fun group. Everyone will love having you there.”
I hoped so. I didn’t have a lot of close friends, especially given this was a new town. Pierce and Kerrigan were at the top of my list, but they were busy growing their family.
My one and only female friend from high school had gone to college in Florida and the two of us had grown apart. I hadn’t spoken to Sareena in years.
Girls in college had been more interested in partying than their studies. I’d had a scholarship to maintain, so slacking off to attend keggers and chase boys hadn’t been an option. My Friday nights had been spent at the library.
Or maybe those were just the excuses I’d made for myself. I hadn’t made friends in Charlotte or Denver either.
“What time?” I asked Larke.
“Three or four?”
“I’ll be there.” And maybe it was just that easy.
Meet for a drink. See new faces. Engage in a bit of harmless gossip.
Make friends.
The barista, a pretty young woman with a honey-blond ponytail and silver nose ring, greeted us when we reached the counter. “Hey, Larke. Want your usual?”
“Yes, please.” She gestured between us as she did introductions. “Kristen, this is Nellie. Nellie, Kristen.”
“Hi.” I waved.
“Hey. Nice to meet you.”
“Nellie’s going to meet us at Jane’s later,” Larke said.
“Oh, sweet.” Kristen nodded. “Do you want a coffee?”
“Please. Iced vanilla latte. Double.”
“Coming right up.” Kristen plucked two plastic cups from the stack, writing our orders on the sides with a green marker.
Larke and I shifted out of the way to make room for the next customer, sharing pictures of baby Constance as we waited. Then, with our drinks in hand, walked outside together.
“Good luck shopping. I’ll see you in a bit.” Larke took a step away, but I stopped her before she could leave.
“Hey, Larke? Thanks for inviting me. I don’t, um . . . I don’t have a lot of friends.”
Maybe admitting it was unnecessary. But Mom had always told me that part of friendship was letting your vulnerabilities show. Dropping my guard was never going to get easier if I didn’t get more practice.
“This is a small town.” Larke laughed. “You’re going to have more friends than you know how to deal with. That’s a blessing and a curse, by the way.”
I smiled. “Noted.”
“See ya soon.” She set off in one direction, while I turned in the opposite.
The sky was a cloudless blue, the morning air crisp. The sun shone brightly, warming my face as I set out on a leisurely stroll.
Calamity was tucked into a mountain valley in southwest Montana. Sweeping, green meadows sprawled toward the towering, indigo peaks in the distance. The new Grays Peak building was located in the outskirts of town, and from my corner office, I’d have an unobstructed view of the breathtaking landscape.
Cars and trucks rolled down the street, their pace not much faster than my own. The absence of noise was noticeable. No honking. No sirens. No beeping crosswalk alarms.
People meandered the sidewalks. No one was in a hurry to get from one end of town to the other. The tourists were here to explore and soak in every detail. So I joined them, window-shopping as I sipped my coffee.