Bobbie grinned like the Cheshire Cat when she opened the door. “Oh, my dears. Do come in.” She stepped back, and Janey led the way into the bigger beach bungalow that sat next door to their cottage. “Come in.”
“This is lovely,” Janey said, gazing around at all the white. White walls, white shiplap, white ceilings. Even the furniture was white as white could be. Bobbie had put pops of color in the room—turquoise, pink, and yellow—by using throw pillows, curtains, and rugs.
“It’s very beachy,” she added with a smile. She’d been gathering her energy for a week to be able to attend this dinner. That, and she’d taken half of an anti-panic pill twenty minutes ago. Everything felt floaty and fine, and Janey needed it that way to get through dinner with the Friedmans.
“Thank you,” Bobbie said.
