“Or I could take some pictures for you.” Liv’s words were out before she could stop them.
“Ooh,” Kincaid said, perking up. “Really? I would love that. I can never get the lighting right. The deep-fried mac and cheese that I made last week looked like something a dog leaves on your lawn.” She took a bite of her bacon. “But do you have the time? You said you work insane hours.”
“I do.” Liv frowned. “But I’m thinking of firing up the camera again on weekends, maybe taking on a few projects.”
“Really?” Kincaid’s expression lit—dangerously.
“What?” Liv asked after Kincaid continued to beam at her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Kincaid clasped her hands together like a happy child. “Oh my God. You’re doing your letter!”
“I—”
“You are, aren’t you?” Taryn said, her smile spreading wide. “Damn. Now I’m going to look like a slacker. One day in, and you’re all in mission mode. Get it, girl.”
“I’m not in mission mode. I’m just…dipping a foot in. No, not even a foot. A toe. I’m dipping a toe.”
“No, no, this is good,” Kincaid said, shoving her plate aside, pancakes forgotten. “It’s not a toe dip. Don’t downplay it. This is like…a call to action. You’re throwing down gauntlets and shit. Go, Liv!”
Liv rolled her eyes. “There are no gauntlets. How were you not in drama club?”
“I have a hard time being anyone but myself,” Kincaid said with a dismissive flick of her hand. “But I’m serious. We should all make a vow to do something from our letters.”
Rebecca snorted and stabbed a piece of waffle like it had personally offended her. “Yeah, okay, let me get right on that. Any big political jobs just dying to have me? Any hot guys with husband potential wandering around? No? Okay.”
“The cook looks pretty cute,” Taryn offered. “I mean, if face tattoos are your thing.”
Rebecca grabbed a blueberry off her plate and chucked it at Taryn, who laughed and batted it away, almost knocking her glasses off her face in the process.
“No, I’m serious,” Kincaid said. “A husband or job change might be tough right out of the gate, but what about the dog you wanted? You could get a dog.”
Rebecca’s expression went deadpan. “I’m not getting a dog.”
Kincaid shook her head with a tsk. “There is a dog somewhere in a shelter who will go to a mean family with kids who will torment him if you don’t adopt him this weekend. Think about that, Rebecca. Bartholomew is waiting for you. Looking for a nice, calm house and a woman he can cuddle with. Are you going to let him down? Are you going to break his little, orphan doggy heart?”
Rebecca gasped and turned to Kincaid. “That is beyond messed up. You are laying dog guilt on me—about an imaginary dog.”
“Doesn’t have to be imaginary.”
“Kincaid, stop,” Liv said. “No guilt trips. If we do stuff in our letters, it’s because we want to. We can’t be forced into it.”
“Fine.” Kincaid lifted her hands and tipped her chin up. “I will leave sweet, orphaned Bartholomew out of this.”
Rebecca’s blue eyes narrowed. “I hate you so much right now.”
Kincaid leaned over and smacked an air kiss next to Rebecca’s cheek. “It comes from a place of love, Becs.”
“Uh-huh.”
Taryn sipped her coffee. “Outside of dog guilt, I think it’s a good idea, but I’d need some time to think through what I’d want to do.”
Liv nodded. Taryn’s letter had been a lot more academic than theirs. She’d promised to figure out why the tragedy had happened so she could help with prevention. Out of all of them, she’d gotten the closest to following that path by becoming a forensic psychologist. But she was asking a question that might not have a real answer—at least not one that could be uncovered.
“Maybe it doesn’t have to be about tackling some letter,” Rebecca said, drawing all their attention. “I mean, my life is fine. I don’t need a dog or to turn my world upside down or to switch jobs. I don’t need the husband either. But maybe what I could use is…this.”
Liv leaned back in the booth. “This?”
“You three.” Rebecca shrugged, her gaze shifting downward like her plate had become super interesting. “I’m not going to lie. This still feels a little weird since we haven’t seen each other in so long, and I’m not exactly a Ya-Ya Sisterhood kind of girl. But y’all are different from the friends I have now. They’re mostly coworkers and mostly men, and there’s all this competition wrapped up into it. Being around you three is much more…relaxed.”