Doug slowly climbed the deck steps. Goldie ran over to greet him, walking faithfully beside him until he sat in the chair next to Gil’s. In another life, she would have made a good service dog.
Doug held up one finger. “You made one bullet point.”
“All publicity is good publicity,” Gil said. He didn’t really believe that statement though. A time or two he’d gotten publicity that rattled him and upset his supporters, like this thing with Sweetie’s Bakeshop.
“Hey, Gilly?”
“Hmm?” Gil looked over, squinting at the sun’s rays.
“I don’t want to hurt Mom’s feelings, but this isn’t a phase. I want my own place.”
Gil remembered what Moira had said. If Doug could take care of himself, why shouldn’t he have his own place? “Okay.”
“I spoke to Della Rose already,” Doug said, petting Goldie’s head.
“Wow. What did she say?”
Doug couldn’t seem to hide his smile. “Louise Herman moved out of one of the Somerset Rental Cottages. It’s open, and Della thinks it would be a good place for me. It’s more money than I was planning to spend though.” He narrowed his eyes at Gil from behind his glasses. “Della told me to ask you for a raise.”
Gil chuckled. “Did she now?”
“Yes, and I think I deserve one,” Doug said earnestly. “I also spoke to Jake.”
Gil was surprised at this. “Oh?”
“Jake said that Louise was the dog walker for the Somerset Rental Cottages. I can do that and be your campaign manager too. And live on my own.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” Gil said.
“When you want something, you go for it, no matter what. I want this.” Doug took a visible breath. “So?”
Gil hesitated. “So?”
“I want a raise. I want you to talk to Mom for me. And I want you to help me move.”
Gil grinned. “Is that all? Would you like to run for mayor too? Seems like everyone else in town wants that.”
Doug shook his head. “No, you’re the mayor, and you’re a good one. Almost as good at that as you are at being my brother.”
Who could argue with Doug after he’d said that? “Okay. To all of it. I’ll back you up and talk to Mom.”
“Really?” Doug’s eyes lit up behind his glasses. “Thank you, Gilly.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Mom might disown me after our talk.”
“You’d still have me,” Doug said, making Gil’s heart squeeze. What had he ever done to deserve such a loyal and loving brother? He’d do anything within his power to help Doug. Doug would feel part of a community in the close-knit environment at the Somerset Rental Cottages. Why hadn’t Gil chosen one of those cottages as his first place to live after college?
“If I move into my own place, you won’t have to worry about me waking you up all the time,” Doug finally said.
“Truth is, I’ll probably miss that.”
Doug looked at him a moment. “I can drive the golf cart around the lake and still wake you up then.”
Gil laughed out loud. “No, thanks. I won’t miss it that much, Doug.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Moira rolled onto her side and looked at the clock. She couldn’t sleep. Now that she knew her mom didn’t want her to fight for the bakeshop, Moira lay here wondering what she was even fighting for. Her why was gone. Or the why she thought she had, at least. Instead of counting sheep, she’d been staring at the shadows in her bedroom, listing the reasons she had for still wanting to be mayor. And why she didn’t.
There was only one reason that fell in the “didn’t” category. She didn’t want to hurt Gil. They’d already discussed that to death though, and he had assured her that, whatever happened, it wouldn’t affect their relationship. He was a man of his word. She believed that wholeheartedly.
So that left her with at least a dozen reasons to still run for mayor, which surprised her. This had stopped being about saving Sweetie’s Bakeshop a while ago. She’d discovered a side of herself that she’d long suppressed, and it felt good to be taking a stand for her community.
Moira flopped around onto her other side. She wasn’t losing sleep over fears or negative thoughts. She was energized. Excited. About the campaign and also about her new relationship with Gil. Everything was changing in mostly good ways.
On a sigh, because she really did need to get her sleep, she stood and walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. She drank it while watching outside her back window. The moon was full tonight. She stared at it in wonder for a moment. Even the moon and the stars looked different somehow.
Am I falling for him?
Moira stood there with that question. Maybe she was. The air was sweeter. Gil painted her world a brighter shade of all her favorite colors. Wasn’t that how others described falling in love?
Moira set her empty glass down and turned back toward her bedroom, doubting she’d get any quality sleep tonight with this new revelation.
* * *
“I can’t believe this place will be a parking lot soon.” Moira popped a piece of her bagel into her mouth as she sat across from Tess the following week.
“So you’ve given up on saving Sweetie’s?”
Moira shrugged. “I don’t really have a choice. My mom wants to retire in the fall. It’s her decision, not mine.”
“Hmm.” Tess looked around the bakeshop thoughtfully. “There are a lot of memories wrapped up in these walls.”
Moira looked around as well. “Hannigan Street definitely won’t be the same. But at least everyone will stop complaining about not having anywhere to park.”
Tess laughed quietly. “True, I guess. I’m even nostalgic about that. I mean, what will we all moan and groan about if not parking?”
Moira tore another piece of her bagel off but didn’t eat it just yet. Instead she sat there thoughtfully for a moment.
“What’s wrong?” Tess asked. “I can tell when something is on your mind. What is it?”
Moira blinked her friend into focus. “It’s just… I like Gil.”
Tess looked at her strangely. “I know you do. That’s a good thing, right?”
Moira nodded. “I mean, I really like Gil.”
Tess’s gaze narrowed. “I know that too. You remind me of the way I felt when I was falling for River.”
“So you think I’m falling for Gil?” Moira asked.
Tess angled her head. “Are you really looking to me for answers? I think you can answer this question yourself.”
Moira tore another piece off her bagel, leaving it beside the first. She wasn’t hungry in the slightest. She just needed something to do with her hands. “You know, I almost adopted a puppy the other night. A puppy.”
Tess grinned. “Yeah, so?”
“So”—Moira shook her head and gestured at herself—“who is this person, and what did she do with the real Moira Green?”
“You are the real Moira Green. And it’s nice to see you opening yourself up to new things. Like a puppy. Why didn’t you adopt it?”