She frowned. “You don’t want to go back to school? But I thought . . .”
“I did too. I mean, that’s been my plan for . . . well, forever. But I don’t know if I need it. What if what I want to do next is what I’m already doing? This town, you and Cait, Faire, the bookstore . . . I like it here.” I hadn’t thought about it in those terms before, but without my actively seeking it out or realizing it, Willow Creek had started to feel like a place where I could make a home.
April’s frown smoothed into a smile. “Well, that’s great too.” She squeezed my hand one more time before she let go and sat back in her chair. “I mean, the last few months have been . . . well, okay, they’ve sucked. But having you here has been . . .” She blinked hard, and I willed her to not cry. I was barely holding it together as it was. “It’s been nice having a little sister around.”
“I know what you mean. Why haven’t we done this sooner?” I gestured between the two of us. “Why did it take you getting in that accident and me getting dumped to bring us together? We wasted so much time, not being close.”
She sighed. “Maybe we did. But it’s okay.” She reached for a fortune cookie of her own and cracked it open. “We’re doing it now, right? That’s what matters.”
“You’re right.” If I was staying in Willow Creek, we had all the time in the world. I popped half of my fortune cookie in my mouth and crunched down on it. In these few minutes my worldview had altered. All this time August had been an end date. I’d be leaving town once Faire was over and I was no longer needed. But what if I stayed? Not because I was needed, but because I wanted to? “I should probably get the hell out of your guest room at some point, though, right?”
April snorted. “At some point. But no rush. I like having my own private driver.”
A surprised laugh bubbled out of me, clearing away the remnants of my tears. “We need to work on that. Maybe you could try driving to work tomorrow. I’ll go with you, to make sure you can do it.”
“Maybe.” She blew out a long breath. “Yeah. Maybe I can do that.” She got up and started clearing away take-out containers. I looked at the little slip of paper with my fortune on it. Ask the right question. Maybe it was time to start applying that advice to other parts of my life too.
“You know, I think I’ll go out to Jackson’s for a little bit after all. You want to come?”
April shook her head. “On a Sunday night? Some of us have work tomorrow. Maybe another night. I’d like to see what all the fuss is about.”
“It’s a date,” I said. “You need to get out of the house more. You know, now that you’re ambulatory.”
“Speaking of . . .” April leaned in the doorway to the kitchen to talk to me. “Marjorie came by today.”
“What? Why?” I searched my memory. “I swear I brought all her casserole dishes back.”
“It wasn’t that. She’s starting a book club in the fall, and wanted to know if I was interested.”
“Another mom-gathering thing? When does this one meet, Thursdays at two in the afternoon?” I rolled my eyes. “But if you want to do a book club, Chris and I were talking about starting one at the store.”
“No, it wasn’t like that. She said she realized that all of their plans conflicted with my schedule.” April’s expression softened. “She came over to apologize for that. And to see if I’m free on the first Thursday of the month. In the evening.”
“Wow. So do you think you’ll go?”
“I might.” She sounded surprised to hear herself say it. “As long as they have good taste in books.” Yep, that sounded more like her.
“Well, you know someone who works in a bookstore. I can probably help you with that.”
“I bet you can.”
“Are you sure, though?” I studied her face. “I bet they’ll want to know more about you. You’ll have to socialize.”
She shrugged. “Yeah. But it’s not really gossip if I’m talking about myself, right? Maybe it won’t be so bad.”
I pushed back from the table. “Are you sure you don’t want to come out with me tonight?”
“Nah.” She waved a hand. “Let’s save that for the fall too.”
It didn’t take me long to get ready. I put on my favorite sundress for confidence: a bright sunshine-yellow that made my skin look warmer and my eyes look bluer, with a halter-style top that tied at my neck and left my back relatively bare. May as well show some skin that had been covered up all summer by long skirts and chemises. I was sick of wearing my hair up all the time, but I hadn’t done anything with it while it air-dried, so it was too frizzy to leave down. I wound it into a loose twist and stuck a clip in it before lining my eyes and applying some lip gloss. Good enough.
Before I left the house, I stuck the fortune-cookie paper into the pocket of my dress. I needed the reminder tonight.
Fifteen
Hey, you made it!”
Mitch waved to me with his beer bottle, and when faced with a smile like his, I had no hope of hiding my own. I ordered a beer before meeting up with him. I was suddenly very glad I’d come out tonight. I’d had enough of games, of second-guessing, of wondering how I fit in with these people. I was armed with my fortune-cookie fortune, and I was going to do what it said. Ask questions. Get answers.
Jackson’s wasn’t crowded; despite Mitch’s assertions, going out after Faire was apparently unnecessary to all but the most dedicated. What did that say about me? I slipped through the people gathered in various clumps and peered into all the dark corners, but didn’t see Simon anywhere. I masked my frown with a swig of beer and nudged Mitch when I got to his side of the bar.
“Not many people out tonight, huh? Is Stacey here?”
He shook his head. “She said she had plans.”
“Plans?” I raised my eyebrows over my beer. “More important than us?”
“Apparently.” His eyes scanned the crowd absently as we talked. The familiarity of his expression hit me with sudden clarity. He was looking for a hookup; this was his normal Sunday night routine, Faire or no Faire. I couldn’t believe it had taken me this long to put it together. He had never been flirting with me. Or if he had, it hadn’t been because I was special. It was because flirting with girls was what he did.
But still . . . ask the right question. I drank some more beer for courage.
“We’re not a thing, are we?”
Mitch paused in his scan of the room, then blinked down at me. “What?”