Chapter 20
It was exactly ten a.m. when Scottie eased her car to a stop at the curb and double-checked the address.
The purple house across the street didn’t seem to fit Willow, but a glance at the text Willow had sent her confirmed she was at the right place. With its bold color and the two dormer windows sticking out from a steep roof, it looked like something out of a fairy tale.
Scottie got out, locked the car, and made her way toward the white front door.
This is just practice, she told herself.
Not the real deal. There was no need for her heart to beat in this ridiculously fast rhythm.
She ignored her damp hands, rang the doorbell, and put on a smile that she hoped appeared casual.
The woman who opened the door wasn’t Willow, but she beamed at Scottie as if they were old acquaintances.
Long, brown hair streaked with purple tumbled onto her shoulders in tousled waves.
Purple-framed glasses perched on her broad nose, and bold eyeliner made her green eyes pop.
She wasn’t tall, but she radiated energy and confidence as she leaned in the doorway and gave Scottie a thorough once-over.
“You must be Scottie,” she said with a warm grin.
“That’s me.”
“I’m Fiona, Willow’s sister. Come on in.” Fiona stepped aside with a flourish.
Scottie had known that Willow lived with her sister, but Fiona wasn’t what she had expected.
She wasn’t even sure now what she had pictured—probably someone introverted and cautious, who tried to fit in, like Willow.
Definitely not someone wearing wide-legged lounge pants in a bold floral pattern and a slouchy, off-the-shoulder T-shirt with paint spatters.
She followed Fiona through a short hall and into the living room, where mismatched armchairs warred for space with a scarred wooden coffee table and a huge couch piled with colorful pillows.
An abstract piece of art in scarlet red took up most of one wall, while a more realistic painting of a gnarled tree hung over the fireplace.
Tendrils of two Pothos plants cascaded from small pots on either end of the mantle.
Nothing really seemed to match, yet it formed a cozy, lived-in harmony.
A glimpse through an arched doorway revealed a dining area and a kitchen beyond that. Each room had an accent wall painted as boldly as the house’s exterior: burgundy in the living room, teal in the dining room, and sunflower yellow in the kitchen.
A chunky white cat slept curled up into a ball on one end of the sofa. A tortoiseshell strode into the room and hopped up onto the coffee table to inspect the intruder invading her territory.
“Spice!” Fiona scooped up the cat before it could scatter the pieces of what looked like a dissembled typewriter on the coffee table.
Scottie leaned closer to check it out.
The top of its pale green metal casing had been taken off, revealing a tangle of grimy type bars.
“The newest addition to Willow’s collection,” Fiona said. “She’s not yet done with this one.”
“That’s cool. Is she restoring them?”
Before Fiona could answer, the stairs creaked, then footsteps approached.
Scottie turned and—for a second—forgot how to breathe.
Willow appeared in the doorway. At work, she always tied her hair into a ponytail or tucked it behind her ears, but now it cascaded freely over her shoulders.
She wore a formfitting, emerald-green sweater that made the green in her hazel eyes stand out brighter than Scottie had ever seen.
Its V-neck dipped just low enough to reveal the elegant line of her collarbones and the delicate hollow of her throat.
Knee-high, chocolate-brown boots and dark-blue jeans did dangerous things for her legs—and to Scottie’s pulse.
It was a simple, casual outfit, yet it hit Scottie harder than a flashy gown would have.
Not the real deal, she reminded herself and tried to play it cool, very aware that Willow’s sister was watching her. “Good morning.”
“Hi,” Willow said, her gaze on Scottie’s hair. “You’re right on time.”
“Of course I am. It’s been a while, but even I know that showing up late on a first date is a big no-no.” Scottie ran her hand through the soft layers that were still long enough to push back. She tried not to wonder whether Willow liked the new haircut.
Willow lifted her index finger. “Practice date.” She emphasized the first word.
“Right,” Scottie said. “Are you ready to head out?”
Willow nodded and led the way. As she walked toward the door, she grabbed her jacket from a hook next to it.
“Have fun,” Fiona shouted after them. “And remember that practice does make perfect.”
“Ignore her,” Willow muttered.
“So she knows it’s just practice and we’re not going out for real?” Scottie asked as she followed her out of the house.
“Yes. She knows I don’t date, so I had to tell her the whole story, including our embarrassing planking failure.” Willow tried to steer Scottie toward the left. “Let’s take my car.”
Scottie squinted over at her. Her own car was parked at the curb only a few steps away. Why wouldn’t they take it? “What?” she asked in a teasing tone. “Is my Subaru too much of a lesbian stereotype for you?”
A chuckle escaped Willow. “No. I just…um…”
“I’d love to take a closer look at your car sometime, but for today, I think we should stick with mine,” Scottie said. “I’m not sure how your retro ride would handle where we are going.”
Willow followed her to the Subaru. “Where are we going?”
Scottie opened the passenger-side door and held it for her. “Get in and find out.”
~ ~ ~
As Willow settled into the passenger seat of Scottie’s Subaru, her gaze landed on the dashboard—and the clear plastic bag sitting there. It was full of zip ties. “Uh, should I be worried?”
Scottie looked over from where she had clicked her seat belt into place and grinned. “Only if you’re afraid of trolls.”
“Trolls?” Willow had no idea what she was talking about.
“You’ll see,” was all Scottie said as she started the car.
When Scottie pulled out onto the road and was distracted by traffic, Willow took a moment to study her.
Scottie had gotten a haircut. For a moment, Willow missed the rebellious, slightly too long strands that had always made her fingers itch with the need to reach out and brush them back.
But she had to admit the new style looked good too.
Scottie’s hair was now cropped short in the back.
The soft waves still framed her face in an easygoing style but no longer fell into her eyes.
She wore black jeans and a corduroy button-down in a warm shade of sienna, worn untucked and open over a plain black T-shirt. The look suited her—neat but relaxed.
Scottie glanced over. “What?”
“Nothing. Just… You cut your hair.”
Scottie brushed a hand through it. “Yeah. I got tired of having it in my eyes all the time.”
“It looks good.”
“Thanks. You look great too.”
“Thank you.” Warmth filled Willow’s chest. Was Scottie just practicing her dating skills, or did she mean it? Probably the former, she told herself. Not that it mattered.
Scottie competently merged onto the on-ramp that led to the upper deck of the Fremont Bridge.
The white steel arch of the bridge stretched in front of them. Beneath them, the river glinted in the morning sun, and an amazing view of downtown Portland opened up.
To the right, the Willamette ran north, while, to the left, Willow could make out the mid- and high-rise buildings of the Pearl District and the West Hills beyond that.
Minutes later, downtown was behind them, and they made their way north on Highway 30, following the river.
Slowly, the landscape began to change. The city faded away and was replaced by wooded hills to their left and scattered industrial buildings and the river to their right.
“So,” Willow said after a while, “where are you taking me?”
“Not telling,” Scottie replied. “It’s a surprise.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good answer. What if the person you’ll date for real doesn’t like surprises?”
Scottie flashed her a grin. “Thanks for the touching concern for my future date. I’m sure it has nothing to do with your own curiosity.”
Willow gave a regal nod. “Of course not. I’m just taking my duties as your practice partner and dating adviser seriously.”
Scottie gave her an amused look. “Oh, now you’re my dating adviser? How did you get promoted? I thought you hadn’t been on a date in ages either.”
Willow smiled and shrugged. “You know what they say: Those who can’t do teach. And as your teacher, I’m making you aware of the fact that not all women like surprises.”
“Duly noted,” Scottie said. “I’m still not telling you where we’re going.”
“Fine. I’ll make sure to warn your future date to expect the unexpected.”
For a while, they drove in silence. Finally, even the warehouses and rail yards thinned as they continued deeper into the woods.
Willow peered through the windshield. “I haven’t been this far north since moving here.”
“So your sister kept your adventures confined to goat yoga, the vacuum cleaner museum, pear-and-blue-cheese ice cream, and other explorations within city limits?” Scottie asked.
Willow stared at her. It had been seven weeks since she had mentioned that, and Scottie still remembered the ice cream flavor she had tried?
If she was always that attentive, she wouldn’t need a lot of dating practice.
“It’s not Fiona’s fault. If it were up to her, she’d drag me to the North Pole and back. She’s the adventurous type.”
“But you aren’t?” Scottie asked.
“I like exploring a little, but right now, I’m learning so many new things at Kudos during the week that by the time the weekend comes around, my brain is ready to hide at home and decompress with an audiobook and—”
“An old typewriter?” Scottie asked.
A flush crept into Willow’s cheeks. “You saw that?”
Scottie nodded. “Was I not supposed to?”
“No, it’s fine. It’s just…a little geeky.”