Chapter 53
PENN
I was becomingaccustomed to life in Aveline. When I first arrived, I didn’t think I would ever be able to stay even for two days, let alone for weeks on end. The place had seemed completely foreign—something out of a movie or TV sitcom—but the longer I was there, the more I realized how special it was, and now, I didn’t even want to leave.
Surprisingly, I was finding my place among the townspeople, and it felt good to belong to something. I had been able to help Millie with a few tasks around the inn and even covered a shift at the bookstore for Margot when she needed to take a day off. It was amazing the amount of trust and willingness the people of Aveline had and how they welcomed outsiders once they got to know you a little better.
Well, except Darcy. I was still waiting for that kiss.
“How did you get picked for flower duty?” I asked her as we walked to the flower shop down the street.
She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Mr. Fitzgerald pretty much volun-told me. I don’t mind, though. I have a fun time picking out the flowers.”
We walked through the door of the shop, and I was instantly bombarded with bright colors and smells. The floors were black and white checkered, and shelves lined the walls with vases and baskets on one side and rows and rows of plants and flowers on the other. Not only were there flowers along the walls, but there were dozens of dried ones hanging from the ceiling.
“I’ve never seen this many flowers in one place before,” I said.
Darcy feigned shock. “What? You don’t frequent flower shops in your spare time? I thought you were a master bouquet maker.”
“Oh, yes. I forgot about that. I, well, you caught me. I do not have bouquet skills. Am I fired?”
She giggled and grabbed my arm. “Nah. I need the help. Come on.”
While Darcy spoke with Rosie about what was needed for the Founder’s Day reenactment—another thing I was looking forward to—I peered around at all the different flowers. I had always known there were many types of flowers, but the amount in this store shocked me.
“I love these over here. I don’t know what any of them are called, but the purple ones are my favorite.” Darcy had snuck up behind me and was gesturing down the row. She plucked one from the bunch and stuck it behind my ear. “Oh, Penny Bear, purple suits you.”
I narrowed my eyebrows, confused by the nickname and the weird baby talk she had just started. I was having flashbacks to the other Darcy. The one I thought was gone. The one I thought—desperately hoped—was a fluke. “Penny Bear, huh?”
“You like it? I was thinking we should have nicknames for each other.”
“You were? You’ve been thinking . . . we should have nicknames?”
Darcy nodded. “Mm-hmm. Penny Bear for you, aaannnnd...” She elongated the word. “For me, I think you should call me Pooky Bear.”
I laughed. Now I knew this was a joke. There was no way she was serious, but when I lightly patted her shoulder, as though I understood the joke, her face was emotionless and straight. “Pooky Bear? You aren’t serious.”
Her shoulders dropped, and her eyes grew wide. “You hate it. Oh my God, you hate it! I just knew you would. It’s fine. I just thought that because we were becoming friends, you would want us to share nicknames. I should have known you wouldn’t.” She puckered out her lip and turned around.
I was left staring at her, dumbfounded. It seemed like it had been forever since I had seen this side of her, and I had to say, I didn’t miss it. I was beginning to think I had dreamt of the other times. They were nightmares.
But now the nightmare was right in front of me.
This woman was going to kill me.
“No, no, it’s okay. I love it,” I swallowed hard, finding it difficult to say, “Pooky Bear.”
Darcy turned around slowly, her hands in a prayer position at her chin. “Penny Bear.” She clapped her hands. “Oh, yes! Penny Bear and Pooky Bear. It’s perfect!”
“Yes. Perfect,” I repeated. I had forgotten the flower behind my ear, and I reached my hand to take it down, but Darcy grabbed my hand.
Her voice was low, and she slowly moved my hand down to my side. “Leave it.”
I looked down at my feet and glanced up at her. “Darc—”
“Pooky Bear,” she corrected.
I smiled forcefully. “Hey, what’s going on?”
Darcy shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“All week, you have been...” I hesitated, trying to find a sensitive way to describe what I was feeling. “One way, and now, you’re just...different.”
“I knew it. I knew it was too good to be true. You only like part of me. It’s like one day you kiss me, and the next—”
I cut her off. “Well, see, that’s exactly it. One day you don’t want me to kiss you, and the next you’re making me call you Pooky Bear. Can’t you see how that’s a little confusing? I’m just not understanding what you want from me.”
Darcy looked pensive for a moment before she completely evaded my question and turned to the flowers. “I want these flowers in my wedding bouquet...You better write that down. Speaking of, did you ever ask your parents about the Aveline chapel?”