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Not going to lie, I was actually kind of curious to hear about being a foot doctor. What drove a person to go through medical school and residency and all the red tape and lack of sleep and everything only to focus on feet, maybe the least essential part of the body? Also one of the smelliest and the ugliest?

But I was a good fake girlfriend and I wasn’t going to press. “Oh, our first date was much more romantic.” The holiday pop-up bar we’d gone to had opened in October, so we theoretically could have been together for two months after going there on our first date. We expounded upon the atmosphere, the drinks, his invitation to come and meet his family. Which was all true. Technically.

“How lovely,” Bev said. “Now, Abby, you said you grew up around here, didn’t you? What’s your last name?”

“Cohen,” I said, and braced myself for the reaction I knew I’d get.

I wasn’t disappointed. Bev’s entire face lit up, and she clasped her hands under her chin. Benjamin’s lips creased in a tiny smile. I figured those were equivalent emotional reactions for them. “Oh, so you’re Jewish?” I confirmed with a nod. “How wonderful. Not that we’d have anything against you if you weren’t. Where are you from?”

For the next several minutes we played Jewish geography, another thing I’d braced myself for—what if they knew my parents? Fortunately, they didn’t, but they did know the parents of a couple kids I’d gone to camp with and one of my old neighbors, and we spent a few more minutes debating if they knew some of my distant cousins or if they just had common names. It was kind of nice, feeling connected to the community again. No matter that I hadn’t talked to any of the people we were discussing in years. I was still a part of the web.

“Well, they’re all lovely people,” Bev said finally, which was a lie about at least one of my cousins. “And what brought you to the middle of nowhere in Vermont?”

“I went up for a relationship and stayed because I liked it,” I said.

Bev pursed her lips. “Oh, but it’s just so far away. And there’s no community up there. I hate that Seth is up there all alone.”

There was plenty of community, just not Jewish community. But I understood what she meant. I’d almost forgotten how nice it was to be surrounded by people who knew your inside references, who wouldn’t prejudge you for your ethnicity or religion (your synagogue membership or your specific level of observance, though, sure).

But this was only temporary, I reminded myself. So don’t get too comfortable.

The silence was stretching on too long. You’re here to be a good fake girlfriend, Abby. So I plopped my arm over Seth’s shoulders and made myself smile. The skin of his neck was warm against my bare forearm. “We’re not up there all alone anymore.”

Bev gave us a tremulous smile. Her eyes were just shiny enough where I suspected she might be ready to cry. “And I’m so glad for it.”

My tea was growing cold. I took a sip anyway so that I’d have something else to focus on besides that gooey look on her face. My nerves were starting to dance under my skin, begging for a break from the interrogation and the cheery attitude.

As if he could read my mind—or maybe it was just the fact that my arm had tightened around his neck—Seth jumped in. “What are we going to do for dinner tonight? Should we take Abby out to one of our favorite places?” He’d barely let Bev nod before he continued. “We spent a lot of time in the car. Do you want to freshen up a bit, Abby? Maybe take a quick nap or a shower?”

Oh, thank god. I didn’t even need a nap; I just had to sit by myself in a quiet room for a minute. “That sounds great.”

Seth stood and motioned toward the hallway as if he were about to give me a sweeping bow. “Because I am a gentleman, I will gift you my old bedroom while I take the couch. Let me show you where it is.”

I nodded with a look that I hoped expressed appreciation. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate it for real—I truly needed this break—but I’d been told my face wasn’t the best at expressing emotions. Resting bitch face strikes again. I’d gotten “Why does the cashier always look so angry?” on more than a few comment cards.

I’d stopped putting out comment cards.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bev said, waving her hand in the air.

Oh no. Was she going to insist that her darling son have his old room back while I stayed out here in the main area where she could watch me sleep and force-feed me warm milk at three in the morning?

She continued, “The two of you should share the bedroom. It’s fine with me.”

Seth’s jaw hung open. “But…you never let me share the bedroom with Freya. I always had to sleep on the couch.”

Freya. His old girlfriend. I pictured a Viking goddess, icy blond hair swooping into braided buns and light blue eyes peering down at me from a face sculpted of cut glass. She’d definitely be cold if we ran into each other, I thought. Maybe she’d try to harpoon me.

Bev waved her hand in the air again. “Oh, times have changed.”

Seth scoffed, raising one thick black eyebrow. Funnily enough, his dad was doing the same exact thing right now with his same exact thick black eyebrow. “Times have changed? Or is it the girl who’s changed?” He had an edge to his voice now. “I always thought you liked Freya.”

“I did like Freya,” Bev said. “Must we discuss your ex-girlfriend in front of your new girlfriend? I don’t think Abby came all the way here for that.”

“I really don’t mind sleeping separately,” I said, steering the conversation away, even though I was kind of interested in hearing more about Freya. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in your own home. I’m happy to go by your rules.”

“And I really don’t mind allowing you two to share Seth’s room,” she said. “You’re welcome here.”

Seth glanced at her darkly, that edge still to his voice. “This conversation isn’t over.”