4. Lark
LARK
You know, a girl could fall in love with Outtatowner, Michigan. I sat at a high-top seat along the huge picture window of the local bakery, the Sugar Bowl. My hot latte was steamed to perfection, and the ribbon design in the foam was almost too cute to drink.
Almost.
Happy faces moved in pairs down the sidewalks as I overlooked the quaint strip of downtown. Just as the main road entered the downtown area, there was a sign that read, Outtatowner, Michigan—where strangers become friends .
Tourists and townies alike were waving and smiling as the sun filtered through the trees that lined the middle of the main road, separating the two sides of town.
The chatter in the bakery was a soft din of noise, accompanied by the gentle clatter of coffee mugs on the wood-topped tables.
I immediately recognized my server, Sylvie, as the sole King woman from the funeral services.
She came more than once to check on me, and her welcoming smile convinced me to order another slice of lemon loaf and a second latte.
“It’s pretty charming, isn’t it?” The woman sitting a few chairs down from me looked up from her laptop and smiled.
She had hair the color of burnt umber and deep green eyes, and she swiveled in her seat to face me.
The woman leaned her elbows back on the long high-top behind her and looked into the little bakery.
I smiled at her and followed her gaze. People were milling in and out of the busy bakery.
It smelled of cinnamon and sugar and warm, toasty coffee.
A small group of old men gathered with newspapers in their laps, which they ignored, and chatted with each other.
The line to the register was nearly out the door.
“It is,” I agreed.
The woman leaned forward and offered her hand. “I’m Cass. In for the weekend?”
“Lark. I was, for work.” I lifted the small folded newspaper in my lap. “It’s cute here, so I’m just killing time now. You?”
Cass gestured toward her laptop. “I’m a reporter. For that very paper, actually.”
“So you’re a townie?”
Her smile widened. “Oh, okay. You already know the insider lingo in Outtatowner. So you’ve picked up a few things since Bowlegs’s services.”
I didn’t recall seeing this woman at the services. When I just stared at her, she continued. “Small town. Not much gets past us. Although you, my dear, have become a bit of a mystery.”
My back straightened, unsure of which angle to play to keep my employment a secret.
Cass lifted a hand. “A girl’s gotta have her secrets.
I’m not going to pry. But to answer your question, I’m new to the townie life.
Born and raised in Chicago. But...” Her eyes trailed behind the counter toward the kitchen, where a gigantic man entered with a tray of fresh pastries.
Warm affection spread over her face, and her smile widened.
“I fell for that guy, and the rest is history.”
As if he could sense her, the burly baker looked out over the crowd and immediately locked eyes with her. His lips lifted in a smile, and I nearly swooned off my damn seat. His love for her was so painfully obvious I had to look away.
“Lucky girl.”
She smiled and looked back at me. “Don’t I know it. There’s something in the water in Outtatowner. I’m telling you, the men here are something else.”
My thoughts immediately flipped to the grump I’d run into at Bowlegs’s funeral. A tiny sliver of me wanted to ask her about him. Probe, just a little, to see who he was and what the hell his deal could have been.
Before I had the chance, my eyes snagged on a ghost walking across the street. My mouth popped open to see Mr. Bowlegs, appearing very much alive and well, shuffling down the street. I slowly lifted a finger, and Cass’s eyes followed.
“Oh!” She laughed. “That’s Bowlegs’s brother.”
“Brother?” I was dumbstruck.
“Identical twins.”
“Wow.” My brain stumbled to find words to replace the shock to my system. “I didn’t see him at any of the services.”
“I’m not surprised. He is as much of a loner as Bowlegs. If you stay long enough, you’ll find out all kinds of wild things about Outtatowner.” Cass turned back to her laptop, shutting it and slipping it into a shoulder bag. “It was nice to meet you, Lark.”
I said goodbye and watched her quietly slink her way through the crowd and toward the back of the bakery.
Once she reached the baker behind the register, in one swift move, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her through the swinging doors and out of view.
Her laughter floated above the bakery noise, and I finally did let myself swoon with only the tiniest ping of envy.
Love was for the lucky, and that I was not.
In fact, a fortune teller at a Renaissance festival had once told me that I was cursed in love .
At the time I’d brushed it off as complete and total bullshit, but at twenty-nine and still woefully single, combined with my trail of disappointing breakups, I was starting to worry she might have been right.
“Daddy, pleeeeeease.” My attention was pulled away from the cute couple and to the whiny grumbles of a familiar little girl pouting in line. My system jumped.
“Pickle, I said no.” The little girl immediately crossed her arms and committed to a deep pout.
“Come on, Wyatt. You’re only here for one night. I’ll show her around the fire station.” Tootie’s nephew, Lee, pushed the shoulder of the grouchy man I couldn’t seem to escape.
Damn small towns.
“Lee, you’re not helping.” Apparently I wasn’t the only one this man was abrasive with. There was something about him that made me want to poke the bear—irritate him with positivity until he smiled once , for Christ’s sake.
I scooped up my coffee and bounced out of my chair toward the trio. “Well, hey there, Sullivans!” I chirped. I leaned down toward the little girl. “It’s a great day for a visit to the fire station, don’t you think?”
A lopsided grin spread over Lee’s face. “You’re welcome anytime, Miss...”
Wyatt shot him a hard glare, and I laughed. My hand shot out. “Lark Butler. Nice to officially meet you. And that is so kind of you. I just might take you up on that.” I headed toward the door and directed a smile at Wyatt. “See ya later, Oscar.”
He straightened and frowned, and I stifled a little laugh. I knew damn well his name was Wyatt, but if he was going to be such a grouch, then Oscar it was.
Breezing past them, I stepped out onto the sidewalk and into the late-morning sunshine. I pulled a deep breath of coastal air into my lungs and let the warmth of the morning wash over me.
There was something special about this town and its quirky residents. I felt it in my bones. Outtatowner was definitely a place I would hope to come back to someday. After a little walk along the beach, I would check my website for messages and line up a new job and a new town.
* * *
“You could always try California again.” My mother’s voice was soothing as I cradled my phone to my ear and scanned the newspaper one more time.
California. LA . The city of broken dreams and hordes of hopeful actresses, like myself. I still couldn’t believe I had sent out dozens of audition tapes and hadn’t received even a single callback. Honestly, it was embarrassing.
No freaking way. “I don’t know...”
“I’m sure you’ll get that callback any day now!”
Her unwavering faith infused her words. If Mom could make things happen with tenacity alone, she would.
“It’s been weeks and I haven’t heard anything. I think that ship has sailed, Mom.”
“Aubergine.”
I rolled my eyes. Since moving to a commune, my mother and stepfather, Larry, had taken to being addressed only by their spirit names : Aubergine and Eagle. “Sorry, right. Aubergine.”
“Goddess will provide.”
In all sincerity, I came by my general positivity honestly. My mother was a literal ray of sunshine. Though what she lacked in firm parenting skills, she more than made up for in enthusiastic support.
“I’m just hoping Goddess will provide an interesting job and a decent place to stay.” My website traffic was still surprisingly strong, but there hadn’t been any new inquiries for my services yet. “There’s not a lot in the small-town mourners market.”
“You could come live here. We all provide for each other in blessed peace and harmony.”
Live in the nudist commune with my mother and Larry? Hard pass.
I resorted to the story I told myself when doubt inevitably creeped in.
“These immersion acting jobs are really good for me. I’m honing my improv skills, and it looks fantastic on a résumé, which I can’t say of all the temp jobs I’ve been doing.
Come fall, I’ll go back to my rounds on the off-Broadway audition circuit again. This is only temporary. An adventure.”
From the small bench on the sidewalk I had taken over, I scanned the long strip of downtown Outtatowner.
The tourist season was picking up, and several storefronts had Now Hiring Seasonal Help or something like it posted on the front windows.
Even the Sugar Bowl had a sign looking for a weekend barista.
The happy faces of tourists meandered past me.
I supposed it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to hunker down in a cozy little town until the next job popped up. Granted, I would have to keep up the facade of Bowlegs’s mysterious funeral attendee, but with so few people in attendance, that probably wouldn’t be all that hard.
“Okay, Aubergine. I should get my day started and, you know, figure out the rest of my life. Love you.”
“Many blessings,” she replied, and I hung up with a sigh and a chuckle.
I closed my eyes, tipped my face to the sky, and let the warm sun soak into me. “Okay, Goddess,” I whispered. “If I am supposed to stay here, then give me a sign.”
I held on to my thought, willing some of my mother’s faith in Goddess to spread to me. I took a few deep breaths, cracked one eye open, then the other. The town continued to bustle around me.
Absolutely nothing had changed.
I sighed and stood. With determined steps toward my car, I flipped the local newspaper into the trash. Something would come up; it always did. For now I could head up the coast to find a new beachy town before making my way back to the hustle of the city.
My white Converse high-tops walked a determined line up the sidewalk and around the crowds of shoppers and families heading toward the beach.
I tried to ignore the tug, something deep inside me telling me driving away so soon might be a mistake.
“Yoo-hoo!”
I turned my head, scanning the crowd to follow the voice.
“Hello, dear!”
My heart swelled at the sight of the kind, elderly woman’s warm smile, and I felt myself grinning at Tootie waving wildly at me from across the street.
I lifted my hand and waved back, then checked the roadway before crossing.
“What were you doing on that side of the street?” Tootie smiled but held me in place with her stare.
I looked around. In reality I was wandering around aimlessly. “Um, I...”
Tootie leaned closer and pulled me in by the elbow. “That’s the Kings’ side.” She waved a hand between us. “No matter. I suppose Bug and I did come to some sort of agreement over you.”
Still unsure what to say, my brows furrowed, and I offered her a confused sort of smile.
Tootie winked. “You’re a Sullivan. I just know it.”
Warmth spread through me, and I fought the urge to let her nephew’s ruggedly handsome face pop into my mind.
“Are you leaving so soon?” Tootie looped her arm in mine, and we walked down the sidewalk.
“I think so. I’m lining up my next job and a place to stay.” I leaned down to whisper. “And we can’t let our little secret get out.”
Tootie’s laughter was infectious. “Nonsense! Let them wonder. This town needs a little fun. A job and a place to stay?” Tootie patted my hand and squeezed. The motherly gesture was unfamiliar and sweet. I hugged her closer. “You let me take care of that.”
Oh yeah. This is definitely my sign.