14. Sugar and Spice
Courtney
The mayor had left as soon as the rain let up, around 5 a.m., citing the excuse that he had important mayoral duties he needed to tend to early this morning. I didn’t believe that for a second and, admittedly, missed him when he was gone, but I knew it was ultimately for the best. I had had my experiment, I’d spent time alone with him, and I learned that the more time I spent with Mayor Finn Abernathy, the harder it was to keep my feelings for him at bay. Every part of me ached for him when I was in his presence; I wanted to curl up in his lap like a house cat and listen to his every thought. At this point, I was borderlining on obsessed.
Last night, he had asked me if I was falling for someone right now. Admittedly, it had caught me off guard. The question, and the mayor himself, confused the hell out of me. Why would he ask me that if not for the fact that he liked me, too?
I had consistently tried to swallow my attraction to Finn as well as deny the possibility that Finn was attracted to me because I was scared to be vulnerable again. Carter had hurt me deeply but it wasn’t fair to make Finn live in that asshole’s shadow. Finn deserved a chance to prove himself and I grappled with whether or not I was ready to give him that chance. I had laid wide awake for hours contemplating whether or not I should’ve even told Finn about Carter - Mr. Sweatpants, as he knew him. I worried that he would now see me as a bitter ex-girlfriend, incapable of discerning any other man from Carter and his shortcomings but I could. Couldn’t I?
What I had told Finn about only letting myself fall for a man with all good sides is true. What he didn’t know, however, was that I was describing him. The more I got to know the reserved mayor, the deeper I found myself infatuated with him. But my time spent in Havenwood hadn’t only strengthened my feelings for its mayor but for the humble town itself.
The thought of Havenwood’s qualms and hardships had weighed heavy on me since learning of them and I wanted to use my skills to help the dying town any way I could. The bookshop is a good start, but there has to be more I can do. The perfect idea hit me that morning on my jog - I’ll use my skills as a writer to write a guidebook to Havenwood! That way, when I get back to LA, I can use the book to promote Havenwood as a niche, rustic New England town. The perfect place for a fall retreat for Californians who barely know what the changing of seasons means aside from a 5-degree change of temperature.
As I’m preparing to round the redbrick corner of one of the downtown buildings, a familiar voice causes me to freeze just before my turn. I pause and remove the one headphone I’m wearing to better hear from my hidden position.
“You cannot rent to her!” Starr’s irritatingly smooth voice is raised in annoyance as she engages in a heated discussion. I flatten my back against the building, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping.
“I’m sorry, dear. She’s a nice girl and I’ve given her my word, our lease starts in a couple o’ days.” Another familiar voice. This one is rickety, kind, and much less angry than Starr’s. I recognize it from our phone call as belonging to Landlord Gable.
“Gable, she’s an outsider. She doesn’t care about Havenwood! I’d give it one week until she’s back in Cali. Enjoying avocado toast, traffic, and spin class.”
“As long as she pays her rent on time, I don’t give two hoots. G’day, Starr.”
I hear the shuffle of footsteps and the sound of a cane clacking heading in the opposite direction, paired with Starr’s growl of indignation. I take it as a sign that the conversation is over and that things did not go as Starr had hoped.
Feeling overly confident and delighted by the musician’s inability to get rid of me, I pick up my knees once again, resume my jogging pace, and round the corner. Sure enough, Starr is standing in the middle of the sidewalk, her arms crossed against her chest, fuming like she’d never heard the word “no” before.
“Oh, hey, Sun, right?” I feign being out of breath as I casually greet the irritated singer, tossing her the same disrespect she afforded me last night. Starr doesn’t acknowledge my intentional mistake; instead, she takes a quick, threatening step toward me. As we go toe to toe, I can clearly see the white-hot ire burning behind Starr’s juniper green eyes.
“You’re going to stay away from Finn,” she hisses. Who does she think she is to tell me what I’m going to do? Finn is a grown-ass man. He can decide who he wants and doesn’t want. Clearly, Starr can’t handle the fact that he doesn’t want her. I try to restrain myself, but anger clouds my better judgment, and I don’t hold back.
“Oh really? Y’know where he was last night?” I challenge, tipping my head as if posing an innocent question. “Because I do.”
Starr’s dark red lips part, venom ready to spew from them when a thought seems to lodge itself somewhere in her malicious brain. Just as quickly as she was in my face, she’s now taking a step back.
“You’re going to regret getting in my way, Hollywood.” Her calm, collected tone sends a warning chill up my spine.
Starr shoulder checks me as she makes her exit past me, the click of her boots echoing off the pavement as she goes. Just before she’s out of earshot, I swear I hear a giggle come from her, the sound sending a nasty feeling straight to my gut. I shouldn’t have flaunted the fact that Finn stayed over at my place last night. It isn’t only my business to be sharing, but something told me that Starr won’t be passing that information around, not wanting the public to know her attempts to regain the mayor’s favor were faltering.
A sensation of unease continues to linger in the back of my mind as I resume my jog, B-lining for Elsie’s coffee shop.
* * *
I slow my pace to a walk as I approach the dated glass front door of the Mystic Brew, holding it open for the older gentleman who is exiting. His aged, weathered hands are full, holding a comically large mug in one and a newspaper in the other. “Thank you kindly. Say, you must be Courtney?” The old man’s face lights up with recognition as he slowly shuffles through the open door. His voice and slight Boston accent strike a chord of familiarity once again.
“Hi, Mr. Gable, yes I am. It’s great to meet you in person.” He shifts his mug into the crook of his elbow, extending his now free hand to greet me with an unsteady handshake.
“I was just stoppin’ by for some fuel,” he nods to the empty mug, “I like to bring me own mug. The ones here are barely big enough to qualify as a sample for an old sailor like me.” Gable grumbles, giving me a glimpse into the particularity of the old man’s personality. “I’m glad I caught you, girl. I have your key to the rental.”
He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a small silver key that he pushes into my outstretched palm. He gives my hand an encouraging squeeze after depositing the key, the small gesture solidified my liking for Landlord Gable.
“Thank you, Mr. Gable.” I beam down at the small piece of metal, my cheeks protesting the stretch caused by my smile, already mentally selecting a color palette for my new bookstore.
“I’m headin’ out fishin’ this morning or else I’d stop by the space personally to bring you the contract. However, Mayor Abernathy was kind enough to offer to do that errand for me, so he’ll be by sometime this afternoon.” I feel my face heat at the mention of Finn, even so casually as Landlord Gable had said it. “Mayor Abernathy offered?” I clarify, my fingers nervously finding their way into my brown tresses.
After the mayor’s early exit this morning, my imagination had begun to run wild with assumptions, but if Finn had offered to do a chore that would intentionally put himself in my path, then maybe he hadn’t ran away from me after all?
“Yup, good man he is. Always willin’ to help us old geezers out. Have a good day, girl.” Gable bids me goodbye, continuing his shuffle back towards the residential portion of town. I watch him for a moment until I’m confident he can manage the short walk himself and then duck into the empty coffee house. Before my eyes can even fully acclimate to the dimness of the shop, I hear Elsie’s teasing voice.
“How was dinner with the mayor who’s not into you?” A smirk is plastered on her freckled face as she towel dries a mug. I bridle my laughter, keeping my face unreadable until I cross the short distance to the counter. But once I’m close enough to feel the heat of her smug gaze, I crack, the two of us erupting into a fit of girlish giggles.
“How could you possibly know about that?” I question, attempting to bay the blush that has crept onto my cheeks.
“The entire town knows about that! Danielle is a certified yapper, ya know.” She rolls her small eyes as she mentions the hostess but quickly returns her laser-pointed focus to me. Her stare demands answers or blood or maybe both.
“Okay! Okay!” I laugh, doing my best not to make assumptions about what exactly the hostess had to say about me. I prop my elbows up on the counter, resting my chin in my hands.
“So maybe he is into me? Last night, he asked me if I was falling for anyone, and it felt like he wanted me to say yes. I don’t know, Els. Everything is really confusing right now.” Elsie’s eyes widen at my confession but I decide not to tell her about Finn sleeping over, at least not yet. Despite Elsie being my closest friend in Havenwood, it feels too personal to talk about.
“How about your feelings for him? Are those confusing too?” She pries as she begins to make me a chai latte.
Are my feelings for Finn Abernathy complicated? No, not really. I like Finn; I like how special he makes me feel, I like the way he’s kind to everyone and dedicated to his position as mayor. I like the way his warm body felt beside mine last night, and I really like to imagine what he looks like naked. All that I understand, that is straightforward. What is complicated is whether or not I’m ready to open myself up again to a new relationship and a new person. Although I hate to admit it, I’m still hurting from Carter and don’t know if I’m ready to trust someone new, to give all of me to someone again and Finn deserves all of someone.
“How have things been here?” I change the subject as the barista sets my latte in front of me. She smirks softly, acknowledging my conversation pivot but complying anyway, leaning against the counter.
“Nothing new, besides that Micah’s been in here several times the last few days trying to convince me to give up your number.” She raises an eyebrow at me as she crosses her arms across her dainty chest. “Are you going to leave any men in Havenwood for the rest of us?”
“To be fair, I get the impression Micah would fuck anything with a pulse,” I reply. She bobs her head in agreeance, ginger tresses bouncing around her shoulders. “I got the key to the bookshop.” I offer her an excited grin. I had filled Elsie in on my plans to open a bookshop last week as we passed the rental space on one of our walks.
“Courtney! That’s so exciting!” Elsie squeals, clapping her espresso-stained hands together in excitement. “Let me know if you need any help getting it into tip-top shape.”
“Thanks, Els.” I look down at my phone and note the time. “I should probably go, Finn is supposed to be dropping the rental agreement off for landlord Gable at the shop sometime soon.”
“Ooooh, have fun.” Elsie teases before dancing back to the dish sink, shooting me an encouraging wink. I shake my head at her disapprovingly but feel my cheeks involuntarily heat at her implication. A big part of me would love to “have fun” with Mayor Abernathy but that will have to wait until I can figure my shit out.
I give her a farewell salute and push my way out of the coffee shop door and back onto the empty sidewalk. I glance up to observe the sky, now murky and gray compared to its previously blue and sunny disposition. The threat of another rainfall has the town park devoid of seniors, amplifying Havenwood’s ghost town appearance.
I make the short walk to my new storefront, inserting the key. A wave of excitement rolls over me as the lock clicks open. I allow the door to swing open inwardly, revealing the old-fashioned beauty of the shop’s interior.
The shop is in better condition than I could have hoped for. Its layout is rectangular with the door and bay window placed on one of its longer, street-facing ends. An upholstered chair had been left behind and occupied one of the dusty corners. The chair and a beautiful golden floral chandelier are the only indications the space had been previously occupied. I envision what the place will look like once transformed to fit my own design: tall white bookshelves lining the long back wall, a reading nook nestled alongside the large window, and a register counter tucked into one of the end corners.
In my zealousness, I barely hear the soft knock at the door.