From #1 New York Times bestselling author Robyn Carr comes the story of four friends determined to find their stride. Ultimately, they’ll discover what it means to be a wife, mother, lover, friend…and most important: your true self.
Gerri can’t decide what’s more devastating: learning her rock-solid marriage has big cracks, or the anger she feels as she tries to repair them. Always the anchor for friends and her three angst-ridden teenagers, it’s time to look carefully at herself. The journey is more than revealing—it’s transforming.
Andy doesn’t have a great track record with men, and she’s come to believe that a lasting love is out of reach. When she finds herself attracted to her down-to-earth contractor—a man without any of the qualities that usually appeal to her—she questions everything she thought she wanted in life.
Sonja’s lifelong pursuit of balance is shattered when her husband declares he’s through with her New Age nonsense and walks out. There’s no herbal tonic or cleansing ritual that can restore her serenity—or her sanity.
Miraculously, it’s BJ, the reserved newcomer to Mill Valley, who steps into their circle and changes everything. The woman with dark secrets opens up to her neighbors, and together they get each other back on track, stronger as individuals and unfaltering as friends.
Praise for #1 New York Times
and #1 USA TODAY bestselling author
ROBYN CARR
“A touch of danger and suspense make the latest in Carr’s Thunder Point series a powerful read.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Hero
“With her trademark mixture of humor, realistic conflict, and razor-sharp insights, Carr brings Thunder Point to vivid life.”
—Library Journal on The Newcomer
“No one can do small-town life like Carr.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Wanderer
“A delightfully funny novel.”
—Midwest Book Reviews on The Wedding Party
“Well-rounded characters, a plot rich in emotion and humor and one sweet romance make this a great read.”
—RT Book Reviews on A Summer in Sonoma
“An intensely satisfying read. By turns humorous and gut-wrenchingly emotional, it won’t soon be forgotten.”
—RT Book Reviews on Paradise Valley
“Carr has hit her stride with this captivating series.”
—Library Journal on the Virgin River series
Four Friends
Robyn
Carr
To Dianne Moggy, my dear friend, who always believed in me.
Contents
one
GERRI GILBERT ANSWERED the door in gray sweats with a tear in the knee, hem on one leg falling down and a gray T-shirt under her black hoodie. Her short, dark brown hair was spiking every which way from bed head. She held a cup of coffee in her hand; her eyes were slits and there was a snarl on her face. “You’re five minutes early. Again. We’ve been over this. Can you please not be early? I value every minute in the morning.”
Sonja Johanson put a finger to her lips, shushing Gerri. The sun was barely over the rooftops and she didn’t want to wake the house. Sonja wore her salmon sweats, white T-shirt and salmon hoodie, her silky, shoulder-length mahogany hair pulled back in a neat clip.
She backed away from the door and pointed down the street. Gerri stepped outside for a better view. A big pile of clothing, books and what appeared to be miscellaneous junk was on the Jamisons’ lawn. Right at that moment their friend Andy appeared in the doorway of her house and with an angry cry hurled the tower to a desktop computer atop the pile.
Andy disappeared into the house and Bryce Jamison backed out of the door wearing business attire that was not fresh, his shirtsleeves rolled up, his collar open, his tie hanging out of his pants pocket and he sported an even worse case of bed head than Gerri. He held a packed duffel bag. “You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” he yelled into the house. He turned and stomped past the pile toward his car in the driveway.
“And you’re fucking through here!” Andy screamed out the open door. Then she slammed it.
“I think Andy might be coming to the end of her rope,” Sonja said gravely.
Gerri’s response was a short burst of laughter. “Ya think?” she asked.
“Should we do something?” Sonja asked.
“Oh, hell no,” Gerri said, pulling her front door closed. She put her coffee cup on the brick planter that bordered dead flowers and bent to stretch. “It’s for them to work out. Or finish off.”
“Should we ask her if she’s walking?”
“She’s not walking today,” Gerri said. “Let’s get this over with.” Gerri started off down the street at a brisk pace.
Just steps behind her Sonja asked, “What do we say?”
“Say nothing. Do nothing.”
“But...”
Gerri looked over her shoulder. “Nothing,” she repeated.
Sonja came up beside her. “We should see if she’s all right.”
“We should give her time to finish throwing things, if that’s