22. Pen
22
PEN
A fter another frustrating morning full of rejection letters, I need a break. Carter had left a scathing voicemail telling me to stop harassing his clients, as if he had any real handle on what went on there other than ordering shots after a late dinner.
Even the magical day I had yesterday with Oma and Lake couldn’t pull me out of this funk.
Growling, I shove my feet into my boots. Leaving Carter had been the best decision I’ve ever made, but it didn’t make me want to kick his ass any less. Why did he care so much?
It seems like an awful lot of time to dedicate to making my life difficult.
Slamming the door behind me, I stomp across the driveway and shut myself inside the truck, cranking the ignition and blasting the heat.
What am I going to do?
The question whirls around my brain as I try to get the feeling back in my fingers. Oma had been so sure I could find something in town, but I was still holding out hope a remote position would appear.
Do you even want to be in accounting?
I shut the thought down because if I can’t fall back on my degree, what do I have? I’ve already been in Wintervale for a month, and I can’t keep mooching off Lake forever.
But he doesn’t want you to leave.
The little voice inside my head needs to take a hike with all the helpful insight it’s spewing because I don’t have time for thoughts of Lake or what I would do outside my degree. I just need to prove to myself that I can do this on my own before I start deviating from the plan.
Not that I have a plan.
Pulling onto the main road into town, I do my best to just take in the scenery and let myself enjoy being home. The snow-covered pines and the familiar curve of the road have me relaxing into the seat. I don’t have a destination in mind, only that I needed to get away from the cabin—fresh air and perspective and all that.
But before I know it, I’m pulling up in front of Dress Me Up, one of my favorite boutiques in town. I shouldn’t go in, but I just want to see if it is still there.
Taking a breath, I push out of the truck and close the door behind me before crossing the lot and stepping into the store. The blast of heat is welcome as I pull off my gloves and shove them into the pockets of my coat.
“Welcome to Dress Me Up,” January Nilsson says. She’s the oldest of the Nilsson siblings with blonde hair and a hard expression.
“Hi January,” I say nervously as she nods, her smile tight as my cheeks heat. She was a couple of grades ahead of me in school and I don’t remember her being here before when I’d come to look for a dress.
“Are you looking for anything in particular?” she asks, moving immediately on from any possibility of small talk and I shake my head.
“Just looking.”
The shop has everything—casual clothes, lingerie, and, of course, wedding gowns.
I do my best to remain nonchalant as I look through the racks, my pulse kicking up a notch every second I can’t find it.
“Are you sure you’re not looking for something?” January asks, her voice startling me as I turn to face her.
“It’s silly, honestly,” I admit, pressing my lips into a firm line as I stare at her. “I came in last year when I was engaged.” Blowing out a breath, I say, “I found my dream dress but now it’s gone. Blossom helped me, and I wouldn’t be able to tell you anything other than I loved it.” I add the part about her sister almost as an afterthought.
“What happened?” January asks cautiously.
“My future mother-in-law hated it and that was that.” I laugh, the sound morphing from hysterical to an all-out belly laugh that has me doubled over before straightening and wiping the tears from my eyes. “Sorry.”
“No apology necessary,” she says, her lips curving up in the corner. “And to be clear,” she says, her eyes dropping to my bare left hand, “you’re happy to not be engaged anymore?”
“Very.”
“Well, if you decide to get engaged again, you know where to find us.” She winks before heading back to the counter.
Standing helplessly in the sea of white fabric, I’m saved when my phone vibrates in my jacket.
WREN: Girls’ night tonight
REID: Who else is in this message?
PEN: Umm…Pen?
REID: Oh hi! HUGE oversight I don’t have your number
WREN: You should be ashamed of yourself
REID: Stop yelling I fixed it
PEN: Umm…
REID: You’re just mad because I spent the snowstorm curled up with my hot farmhand
WREN: Because you KNEW the new bossman was starting this week
REID: DID YOU MEET HIM?
WREN: You would know if you’d actually come home
REID: Fine I’ll pick up those mini chocolate pies you like from Petit Squared
WREN: (gif of woman giving the side-eye)
REID: And wine to go with it
WREN: (blowing kiss emoji)
PEN: Should I bring something?
WREN: Just yourself if you can get away from my brother long enough
REID: He whistles at work now
WREN: I hate that I love that
REID: Me too
I smile, looking up from my phone as I make my way out of the bridal section toward the door.
PEN: You know what? It’s been a day; I’m picking up more wine
REID: That’s the spirit
WREN: See you soon!