Unlikely You (Sapph in the City #5)

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Honey

I was in love with my new ereader sleeve. I’d been eyeing Bren’s booth for weeks and trying to get up the courage to go over and buy something and today I’d finally done it. She’d accepted the honey since I saw her put it in her bag, and she hadn’t rejected my purchase.

I stroked the little tag with her business name on it. Wild Prose. There was a rose with thorns in her logo, which I thought was clever and totally Bren.

I hated how much I liked her. Crushes could be inconvenient even when circumstances were ideal, and these were absolutely not. For one, Bren did not like me. This was no secret, even though she thought she was doing a good job of hiding it. Bren didn’t like my whole family, but there seemed to be something about me in particular that set her off and I didn’t know what it was, but I could take a guess.

I’d been accused by many people in the past of being “too much.” Too happy, too loud, to smiley, too positive, too…whatever. It all meant the same thing and it cut deep whenever someone said something like that to me. They’d couch it as advice or trying to help me, but it hurt all the same. Often people would also use it as an excuse to infantilize me. As if I was unaware of how cruel the world could be. As if I was just a cartoon princess singing and swirling in a dress. Forgetting, of course, that all those cartoon princesses had been through a lot. Cinderella lost her father. Snow White was chased through the woods by a man literally trying to kill her. Belle was trapped in a castle with a terrifying monster that everyone else said would probably kill her. If there was one thing those cartoon princesses knew about, it was pain and trauma and grief.

But people didn’t want to hear my treatise on cartoon princesses. They just wanted to make themselves feel superior by bringing someone else down.

I had no time or patience for that. While it hurt to cut people out of my life, I had no qualms about doing it if someone was going to be an asshole.

Bibliofile had been a little mean, yes, but I understood why she’d lashed out a little bit. I’d agreed to her terms when we’d first started talking and I had been chafing against them and having to pull back ever since.

I just…I wanted more . I wanted to know her. What difference did it make if I knew where she lived if I already knew some of her darkest moments from middle school? She might not have given me the names of her bullies, but I knew what they’d done. How they’d made her feel. How the words still hurt years later. I’d told her my own stories in sympathy, and she’d been so wonderfully kind. There was a soft soul under all her prickliness.

There was an ache inside me when we talked sometimes. An itch to reach through a screen and grab her hand and hold it tight so she’d know I was there. I was with her. I was her friend.

I sighed and opened my ereader, trying to decide what book I was going to open. I was an intense mood reader, and I would put a book down in the middle of a sentence if I wasn’t feeling it. I was midway through three books, but none of them called to me, so I scrolled through my library and realized I’d downloaded the newest Eloise Roth and had completely forgotten about preordering it. When it came to books, I mainly read queer romances, but Eloise Roth was one of my Aunt Eileen’s favorite authors and I’d been reading her books for years. Even my mom had a few battered paperbacks in the family library from her. She was from Maine, too, which was exciting. Recognizing the places she was talking about was always an extra little treat.

Plus, Eloise Roth had very publicly come out and talked about her girlfriend, so her books might not be queer, but I was more than happy to give my time and energy to a queer author.

Her books really were addicting. I’d never been able to put one down.

Another message from Bibliofile came in as I was finishing the first page of the book. I flicked my eyes down and saw that she’d sent me a video.

It was a person who traveled around the US and made the recipes that some people had requested be carved on their tombstones. It was both sweet and morbid and I found myself getting a little teared up as I watched it.

That’s beautiful, thank you.

You’re welcome. It made sense to send it to you. I don’t know why.

So many things were like that with us. I didn’t know why something made me want to tell Bibliofile about it, but it happened multiple times a day. It happened in the middle of the night too. The two of us had never met, but more than a few times, I’d turned as if I was going to say something to her. As if she was sitting right next to me. How silly was that?

She’d become such a presence in my life that it didn’t matter that we hadn’t met. There was a Bibliofile-shaped space in my life that I hadn’t even really built. It had just…happened.

Have you read this one? She asked, sending me a book link. As a matter of fact, I had, and I’d loved it.

Have you? Because I could give a whole PowerPoint presentation on how much I love it.

Bring it on she responded.

I hid a yawn behind my hand as I stacked some new jars of honey and made sure we had an even amount of each candle scent and that they were all in perfect rows.

My siblings were also in rare form today. Ellie was in a bleak mood and I couldn’t coax a smile out of her, and Ember was still fighting with her friends. At least Archer was finally at his basketball camp for the next two weeks. We wouldn’t have his extra hands at the marketplace or on the farm, but he was sporadic about helping at best. It was honestly easier for me to just go ahead and do everything.

My parents had two of their Beekeeping for Beginners workshops today, so they were back at the farm, which was also better. Still, I was ready for bed and the day hadn’t even started.

I wished the tea I worked on preparing was caffeinated. Instead I’d have to wait until everything was quiet for a moment and hope that Ember and Ellie could watch our table while I ran to the bathroom and maybe grabbed a matcha. God, that would be so good right now. An iced matcha with cream and then I’d add a few spoonfuls of our wildflower honey. There was nothing better.

Realizing it was almost time to open, I snapped my fingers at Ember, who had been frowning at her phone and furiously typing for the last ten minutes and set the tray with the free honey sample sticks in Ellie’s hands.

“Cheer up, Ellie Belly,” I told her, stroking her hair.

“Okay, Honey,” she said in a dull voice, practically ripping my heart open. Maybe I should send her home, but there was no one to come get her unless I asked Aunt Eileen, but she had MS and I didn’t like to burden her if I could help it.

“Hey,” I said, leaning down a little bit to look in Ellie’s eyes, “can you do me a big favor?”

Her eyes lit up just a little. There.

“Can you go and get me an iced matcha? And you can get yourself a strawberry lemonade.” Buying treats at the marketplace couldn’t happen every weekend or else my siblings would eat and drink their way through all our profits. But to cheer up my little sister, I could spare a few dollars for an organic, fresh squeezed strawberry lemonade.

I gave Ellie the money and she dashed off as the doors opened and the first round of customers filed in. I smiled and picked up the tray of honey samples and got ready.

Movement in the corner of my eye showed me that Bren was doing the same thing, but her smile was more forced. She’d be better if someone came over and was excited about her wares. Then her smile was more subtle, but it was genuine. You really saw it when a customer talked with her about books. Then she’d get fully into using her hands and nodding and sometimes she’d even softly laugh.

Bren just wasn’t an overly emotive person, but her pleasure when conversing about books was beautiful to see.

And my crush just kept growing and growing, taking up space in my chest. Sooner or later, it was going to start pushing against my organs. And then there was whatever the hell I felt for Bibliofile, squeezed in around everything else, making it hard to breathe.

Ellie returned with the drinks and I swirled honey into the matcha before sipping and letting out an involuntary sound.

“Ew,” Ember said from the floor where she’d been sitting behind our table.

“I’m sorry that I take pleasure in the simple things, Ember. You should try it sometime.”

“Not if I’m going to sound like I’m…you know.” I looked over the table to find her with a reddened face.

“No, I don’t know, what do you mean?” I asked, but she couldn’t answer because several people walked up and I had to hit the pause button on that little discussion and abandon the beautiful matcha until no one was around.

Time to work.

By the time I got back to my matcha, the ice was melted and everything was watered down, but it was still delicious and improved my morning. Ellie seemed to perk up with her strawberry lemonade and was doing her thing giving out samples. People just thought she was the cutest and couldn’t help but say yes to her. Maybe it was shady, but we had to use every single tool at our disposal.

Mom called when I was shoving a veggie hummus wrap in my face and left a message that someone local had called for me to come and remove bees from a lawn chair in someone’s yard next week. It might be the perfect removal to film, which meant I would have to prevail upon one of my sisters to come and be in charge of that part while I dealt with the bees.

“Hey, Ellie, do you want to help me rescue some bees on Monday?” I asked and for the first time that day, she truly smiled.

“Yeah, can I help?” She’d gone with me enough times and was so gentle with the bees and she’d never been scared at all. Ellie was a natural with all creatures. They seemed to flock to her. Sometimes I joked that she was a secret princess and one day she’d finally get her crown and rule her kingdom with the help of all her animal friends. If I could have made that future for her, I would have. I’d just have to settle for buying her a tiara and loving her as fiercely as I could.

“Of course. I need someone to help and film for me.” Ellie bounced on her heels and I was so relieved to see her enthusiasm. I was still going to try and talk to her when we got home and tell Mom that she might want to check on her too. All of us kept a special eye on Ellie.

“Okay,” Ellie said, loading up the tray with some more samples to pass out.

I sent Mom a message back that we could do the job and I’d check the details later. The job was exciting and even though I might not prefer to be in front of the camera, the videos really helped get eyes on our business and help drive people to our online store. I’d have to enlist my siblings to fill orders next week because we had a huge shipment for a wedding that needed to go out. Packing and shipping glass jars wasn’t an easy task and required exacting standards to make sure everything got to where it was going in one piece.

Just thinking about all of it made me pre-tired, but it had to be done. At least my parents took charge of most of it.

A message from Aunt Eileen came in and I read the goofy meme and laughed before putting my phone away again. I needed to go see Aunt Eileen. It had been too long. I’d drive over and grab her and we could go out and do something together. Even more than my own mother, Aunt Eileen was the one I relied on for the best life advice. Unlike my mom, who would tell me to sing or spend time in the garden when I was wrestling with something, Aunt Eileen would tell me when I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself or when I needed to suck it up and get my shit together. There was a no-nonsense energy about her that I really needed sometimes. I could get too in my head about things, think too hard about how something would affect everyone else and not even consider my own internal feelings about it. She’d admonish me to stop putting myself last and start letting my parents take a little more responsibility. Aunt Eileen had no qualms about telling me what she really thought about my mother.

At the very least, I owed her a phone call. I’d try tonight, if I didn’t pass out too early.

Bren’s voice penetrated the commotion around me as she explained how her book sleeves were waterproof and could protect your paperbacks and hardbacks, and which sizes would fit most books.

For just a moment, I allowed myself to watch her out of the corner of my eye. A little reward for myself for ignoring her for most of today.

Her face was relaxed as she held up one of her book sleeves and showed how the book fit inside and closed it with the clever little button and loop. I needed to get more of them for my books. If I wasn’t careful, I’d buy her entire booth just to get her to notice me. As if I even had the money. If I was rich, I would. Then again, if I was rich, I probably wouldn’t be working here at the marketplace and I wouldn’t have met her in the first place, and that would have been a huge shame.

My perusal of Bren only lasted a few moments, because I had customers of my own and tea to pass out and questions to answer and sales to make.

What would you do with a million dollars? I wrote to Bibliofile after I’d finished chores and dinner that night. I still needed to call Eileen, but I wanted to talk to Biblio first.

She didn’t answer right away, so I just stared at my phone as I lay on my stomach in bed. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to fall asleep like this.

Hmmm, probably buy a house. Pay off my loans. All that practical shit. I frowned as I read her message.

And after you did all that, what would you buy? Not something you need, something you want .

Biblio was a practical person, I knew, but there had to be something frivolous that she’d been aching to own.

Okay fine. I’d buy an old church that was falling apart and I’d fix it up and renovate it into a house. I’ve seen other people do things like that online and I think it would be amazing to do a project like that.

Wow. That was a completely unexpected answer. I liked it a lot.

I know it’s not super fancy like that, but there’s this set of ceramic spice jars that are shaped like little houses and they come as a set and I’ve always coveted them. Wanted to have them in my own kitchen. I did have a tiny kitchen in my apartment, but most of my cooking was done in the main house. Someday I might have my own big kitchen where I got to decide where everything went, and the space would be all mine. I could make pie crust with no one bothering me or stealing the fruit or asking me to stop and do something else.

I like your idea better, though I added.

Her idea was definitely better than mine.

Yours is much more attainable. I don’t think I’ll ever have that much money at my disposal. Nor would I, but I liked thinking about things like that.

Dropping the conversation with Biblio there, I called my aunt.

“It’s about damn time you called me, Honey Bunny.” She’d always called me that.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. How are you?”

She sighed. “Oh, I’m as good as can be expected. You don’t need to hear the laundry list of problems. I’m guessing since you finally got your act together to call me, something is on your mind.” Nothing got past Aunt Eileen.

Now it was my turn to sigh. “Just…life. Everything.” I told her how the farm was doing and how my siblings were and how my parents were, and she eventually interrupted me.

“That’s all well and good, but what about you , my girl? What about you?”

Aunt Eileen had two kids, my cousins Jeremy and Brent, who were both at least five years older than me. They’d both gone away to college and lived in different states, Jeremy in Chicago with his partner and Brent all the way in Seattle. Since I still lived so close, she spent her extra attention on me.

“I have a crush on two people,” I blurted out.

“Hold on, this sounds like I’m going to need something.” I heard her rustling around and then the clink and swish as if she was pouring liquid into a glass.

“Okay, I’ve got my scotch.”

“Aunt Eileen! Are you allowed to have scotch?”

“You hush. I get enough scolding from my husband, leave me alone and tell me what’s going on.”

This woman was something else.

She listened as I told her about my crushes on Biblio and Bren. Aunt Eileen already knew about Biblio (just not the crush part) because I’d talked about her often enough. I hadn’t told her about Bren yet.

“Ohh, my girl, you’re in the thick of it, aren’t you?”

I laughed a little. “Yeah, I am.”

“Firstly, you don’t actually know if this Bren doesn’t like you. You’ve just decided that. And looks can be deceiving. You’ve only seen her when she’s at work.” That was true.

“If you saw me when I was working, you would have thought I was a raging bitch.” She paused for a moment. “You would have been right, but that’s not the point.” She cackled at her own joke and I snorted.

“You need to see her in a different environment. And maybe with someone else who can get the temperature of the interaction. That’s my advice. And if she really doesn’t like you? Then fuck her, she’s not worth your time and she has terrible taste. You are a damn angel, Honey. Anyone who can’t see that has something wrong with them.”

I choked on a breath, unable to think of anything to say to that for a few moments.

“I think you might be a little biased, Aunt Eileen.”

“Biased my ass. I’m right.”

I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation.

“Now onto the other one. This online friend? My girl, you don’t know this person. I know you think you do, but how can you when you’re never met? They could be lying about everything.” My first instinct was to argue. To tell her that I did know Bibliofile. That we had shared so many things with her. No one, not even my family, knew that I wanted that spice set collection. I’d told Biblio so many things I’d never dream of telling someone else.

But Aunt Eileen was also right that I didn’t know some very important things about Bibliofile that I’d have to know if my crush was going to go anywhere.

“This online person could be in a relationship. They could be emotionally cheating with you. Did you think about that possibility?”

I had, but so far everything with Biblio had been completely platonic. Anytime things got flirty (which was usually me taking things there because I couldn’t help myself), Biblio would just stop responding to me for a while. She’d go dark and then a while later she’d come back and pretend that nothing had happened. And I’d be extra careful for days afterward to make sure she knew I wasn’t trying to push her into anything.

Bibliofile was my friend, first and foremost. I’d rather live with an unrequited crush for the rest of my life if it meant that I got to keep talking to her. Even if we never met. Even if I never knew her real name. It would be worth it.

I explained all that to Aunt Eileen and she sighed again.

“Honey Bunny, I think you’re lonely.”

I scoffed. “I’m literally surrounded by people all the time. How could I possibly be lonely?”

“You can be lonely standing in a stadium full of people. What about friends?”

We’d had this talk before.

“I have friends,” I said, sounding petulant.

“Other than me? Other than your online person?”

I had acquaintances that I said hello to. I had people who I promised to call for coffee or some other thing that we never did. Friends? I didn’t have the time, even if I wanted them.

“You’re so young, my girl. You have all this life out ahead of you. I want you to go out and do something social next week. This is not a suggestion.” Her tone was firm, and I knew there was no use arguing. I could be stubborn, but Aunt Eileen was older and had more years of practice winning battles.

Arguments raced through my head, but she wasn’t going to listen to any of them. There were always reasons I couldn’t go out and do something. Always something happening at the farm. Always something going on with my siblings or my parents.

“Okay,” I said.

“Wow, you didn’t even fight me that hard. Good job,” she said. “And when you go out and do something fun for yourself, I want you to take a picture and send it to me. I’m going to need evidence of this adventure.”

Honestly. This was ridiculous.

“Okay, fine. I’ll do it.”

Eileen snorted. “You’re acting like I’m forcing you to get a pap smear. I want you to go out and have fun. Be young while you are young! Jesus Christ, girl.”

Well when she put it like that, it was a little silly. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to do fun things. There were just so many other things that seemed more important than fun.

“I’m going to do it, I promise.”

She harrumphed. “You’d better.”