Chapter 3
Mortification, Party of One
Jules
I scanned the table I was sitting at in awe.
We were in the brewery, at a low table near the bar.
So far I still had all the names down pat.
It was a lot easier to keep track of all these people Aunt Lou had told me about once I’d met them because, spoiler alert, these were the folks she had thought I’d enjoy spending time with.
I was still debating whether I was going to admit to her that she had been right or not.
Lou didn’t need any more validation of her “rightness” in the world—she had that in spades.
But these women? I was tentatively excited about the possibilities of so many friends so quickly in a new town.
At this table tonight, let’s see, there was the library crew: Grace, Emma, and Elle.
The café sisters: Allyson and Maeve. The yoga contingent: Kristine and Kate.
Maggie worked at the school but was best friends with Emma from the aforementioned library.
My mind positively whirled. They were so welcoming but seemed to accept that I liked to sit back and observe more than stand up on the table and dance.
Not that anyone had done that, but I had a feeling that Maggie would be open to it.
And maybe Maeve. Not sure where the rest of the crew would fall yet.
Speaking of, I’d left Maeve at the café and raced home after getting coffee with her.
That gave me just enough time to feed O’Malley and have some quality conversation with him about how maybe I should just stay home, to which he’d promptly turned his back on me and stalked off. Oh well, point taken.
I’d looked at my clothes, debating if what I was wearing was okay or not.
Finally, I decided to go with the outfit I was wearing.
Sue’s firm was a blessed change from my Chicago one.
A dress code was nonexistent, as was evident in my boyfriend jeans and baggy white hoodie.
Heck, even my shoes wouldn’t have passed the test a few weeks ago.
Sneakers, trendy or not, were a no-go at my old firm.
I loved my Nikes and was thrilled I got to wear something daily that I was comfortable with.
If only I could create more hours in the day and continue to do both my jobs.
Before I could spiral into anxiety about my current to-do list coming from both jobs, a text from Maeve told me to march my happy ass down the street and hit the brewery or she was coming to find me.
A glance at the clock on my phone told me I wasn’t late, but she was sending a preemptive strike. That was fair.
I arrived at the brewery and headed in, my stomach tied up in knots.
This was nothing new; I’d been this way my whole life.
Meeting new people, going places for the first time, having to figure out how to get somewhere or where to park—all surefire experiences that would make my anxiety bubble up.
I wouldn’t say it had gotten better as I’d gotten older, just that I knew to expect it and that it would eventually go away.
Fortunately, I was only a handful of steps into the brewery and talking to Laurie, the hostess, when I heard my name.
We both turned to see Maeve waving from the bar area.
I felt the smile on my face grow as I said goodbye to Laurie and headed over.
Seeing Maeve’s welcoming expression helped.
So did the flurry of introductions accompanied by hugs and explanations of the connections between the women gathered.
I felt like I was being ushered into a group where I wanted to belong.
Turned out all the ladies knew Lou, and many had stories on her.
That was okay—I did too. I knew my aunt, and she was happiest when being her busybody self.
She’d known all the gossip in town when she ran the coffee shop.
I didn’t know where she got her info now, but it was still part of her currency.
“Jules, you’ve got to tell us what it was like growing up with Lou as your aunt,” Maggie said as she sat down after grabbing drinks at the bar. She handed seltzers to Emma and Allyson, both of whom were visibly pregnant.
I could feel the eyes all turn in my direction and marveled for a moment that it didn’t make me feel as queasy as it normally would.
I’d have to think on that reaction later.
Still, I slid forward and decided how to explain my family.
“My mom and Lou are fourteen years apart, my mom being the younger sister.”
“Fourteen.” Grace nodded. “I thought Lou might have been your great-aunt. Are there loads of siblings between them?”
“Nope.” I shrugged a little, thinking about Mom’s family. “I’m not sure if Mom was a surprise or if they just couldn’t get pregnant for a while after Lou. I was young when my grandparents passed. Lou has always been there for me though. My mom’s pretty dramatic…”
“Compared to Lou?” Maeve interrupted, her tone saying that Lou was no straitlaced woman.
I paused, thinking of how to compare the two.
“I mean, I think Lou looked out for my mom. I’d imagine their relationship wasn’t the normal sibling one when there was such an age gap.
And yes, Lou’s always been… well, who she is.
But my mom has a flair of her own.” I thought of how best to describe my mom who, though she drove me mad, was one of my favorite people.
“What I’m saying is that she could be on a stage with the way she reacts to everything.
Does that make sense? My dad just rolls with it, always has.
The two of them are funny, love the heck out of me, but I look to Lou for any sense of stability…
” I thought of my mom’s lack of concern about things like bills or groceries.
Unfortunately, Dad did not help there either—they lived life thinking things would just “work out.” Not that we were ever destitute, just that sometimes as a kid, I’d wondered if we were going to be okay.
“That must have been so hard.” Emma reached over and squeezed my hand.
“Yeah.” Maggie gave me a compassionate look from across the table. “I understand tight times when you’re young. They have a lasting impact.”
I sat at the table, looking around, fascinated at how different these women were but how they were clearly almost like a family to each other.
And the level of kindness, even early stages of friendship, they were showing me wasn’t something I was familiar with.
I did casual friends where we talked about vacation plans, work frustrations.
Talking about relationships with families, our own insecurities—that brought a level of vulnerability I wasn’t familiar with.
This was more aligned with the characters in my books than anything I’d experienced in real life.
Someone clearing their throat brought my attention back to the present. I looked up into the twinkling eyes of Lou. It was like we had conjured her from thin air.
“Excuse me, ladies. You causing all sorts of trouble tonight?” Lou asked.
“You know it, Lou,” Allyson said as she put a hand on her pregnant belly. “Really out of control over here.”
“For sure,” Emma said, mirroring Allyson’s actions with her own belly. From what Maeve had told me, Emma was due in May and Allyson in June. This group was doing their part to help grow the population of Highland Falls, that was for sure.
“Well, I’m glad to see you out tonight, Ms. Jules.” Lou’s warm eyes met mine. She was a meddling busybody, but her heart was in the right place.
“Thanks, Lou. Is Verdell here?” I asked, scanning behind her for my very understanding uncle.
“Nope, it’s girls’ night out. Jeanie and Hattie are with me.” She nodded back to the dining room where I could see her two friends.
Maggie gave out a hoot. “And you were worried about us causing trouble? The three of you are surely plotting to take on some overlord tonight.”
Lou scoffed. “As if one would dare mess with us.”
I laughed as I looked from Jeanie and Hattie, who were singing along to the Chris Stapleton music that was playing, to Lou.
Just then, my attention was snagged by a gorgeous man walking into the brewery.
Hello. He could’ve literally walked right out of one of my romance books.
Tousled honey-brown hair and, when he looked my way, piercing blue-gray eyes.
He had stubble that indicated he didn’t shave daily but did often enough that he wasn’t sporting a full beard.
And ignore my exploding ovaries—he was holding the hand of an adorable little girl.
Why were competent dads such a turn-on? Do men get hot and bothered by decent moms?
Fucking patriarchy. Bring on the matriarchy.
The little girl looked to be somewhere around five and had a style that was clearly all her own.
Her leggings were striped, her outfit complete with sparkly rain boots, a tutu, and a purple hoodie.
A blond woman was walking ahead of him, and I couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
Like this guy would be interested in me. Clearly I needed to get over myself.
Just then, another guy joined them. He also had dark hair but was a few inches taller and had a baby strapped to his chest. Hot guy number two leaned over and kissed the blonde before putting his hand on her lower back and leading her to another couch-and-armchair grouping in the corner of the bar.
Smart man. I noted that the little girl let go of hot guy numero uno’s hand and immediately went to the floor in the corner and began to spread out her coloring supplies.
I was drawn to the little family and, I had to admit, a little captivated by them.
Maybe it was because I was in the midst of character development for my fifth book, but I couldn’t help but draft a narrative for them in my head.
In my dream world, the second guy and the woman were together.
The baby was theirs. But the five-year-old looked enough like the woman that she had to be her mom.
So who was that first guy? An uncle? Or could I dream up a friendship between the adults, leaving mystery man number one available for accountants who moonlight as romance authors?
“Earth to Jules…”
I looked over to Maggie to see that she was watching me expectantly. Scratch that, so was the whole table, including Lou. Crap. Crap. Crappity crap. This wasn’t good. If Lou got any ideas…
“See something that interests you?” Lou asked with a waggle of her eyebrows.
Damn, too late. One did not covet the focus of Lou Williams. Nope. It was far preferable to fly under the radar with my aunt.
“Hmm?” I worked to play ignorant. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Tired, you know. Tax season.” There. That was an acceptable excuse this time of year.
Lou watched me with an assessing glance. Then her smile became what could only be described as wicked. “Noah,” she called at a volume that spoke to football games, not standing inside a brewery.
Shit. Hot guy number one looked over from his spot in the corner and smiled warmly at Lou. He tilted his head as if to ask why she was bellowing across the room at him.
Lou simply waved him over. The man turned to say something to his dinner companions as well as the little girl, then headed in our direction as the blonde waved in our table’s general direction and the women I was sitting with waved back to her.
Mortification, party of one. Your table is now ready. I felt heat racing up my neck to my face. Redness commencing in three… two… one…
“Hey ladies,” Mystery Man, now known as Noah, said when he reached our table. His name was familiar to me, though I wasn’t sure why. Then he looked to Lou. “Causing trouble again, Ms. Lou?”
“Don’t you know it.” Her eyes sparkled. That was the only way to describe them, and after knowing the woman all my life, I knew what it meant. She was scheming.
My brain chose that moment as the time to hit me with a memory.
Really just a flash of one. My stomach sank as it came rushing back.
Two weeks ago, when I first arrived in Highland Falls, I’d come to the brewery with Lou and her friends.
That was the night I’d briefly met Maeve, who’d made a comment to Levi about introducing me to her friends and given me her number.
And then my ever-interfering aunt had said something about making sure a Noah was on the guest list. Wild guess that this was the Noah she’d referred to.
I had no words. Illinois was not known for chasms opening and swallowing people, but a girl could dream.
I felt like not only had Lou been trying to arrange friendships for me, but now she clearly wanted to fix me up.
I mean, bravo on the guy—he was my dream man come to life—but how pathetic did that make me?
“Noah, I believe you know what time of year it is,” Lou began.
Oh, sweet Lord, I had a feeling I knew where this was going.
“Lou…” I warned in a severe tone hoping she’d get the message. Shots fired across the bow, but the woman gave zero fucks. I could feel the eyes of everyone on the table pinballing from Noah to Lou, to me, back to Noah.
Noah gave Lou a quizzical look, then scanned the faces of the women I was with before coming to stop on me.
His expression was warm with something else there, but he looked back to Lou before I could think on it more.
I was too busy cataloging the man’s eyes as stormy sea blue and debating how I’d describe his hair in a novel.
It helped me ignore the nausea welling up at Lou’s matchmaking games.
Tousled? Artfully messed up? Dark blond or honey brown?
Long enough to hold on to. Damn, down girl.
The correct description didn’t exist, but I’d workshop it.
“Springtime?” Noah answered Lou’s question about the time of year. Bless his innocent soul. Would he make a good cinnamon-roll hero? I felt certain of it.
“True, it is spring…” Lou replied. Then, with a sly glance in my direction, she asked the question I’d known was coming. “However, I was thinking about something else. Who does your tax preparation?”
Someone at the table let out a snort of laughter. Okay, a few someones, but not me.
Yeah, that was a normal, everyday kind of conversation and not out of the blue at all. I slid my head down on the table as I felt Maeve pat my back in commiseration.
“You can’t be surprised,” she whispered.
True, I really couldn’t be. Didn’t change the desire to hide, but I’d work though that as soon as Noah fled our table.