Chapter 11
The tree-lined lane widens, and the scenery shifts. The sprawling farmhouses give way to cute homes, then to clusters of quiet neighborhoods. We round a corner and a cheerful red-and-blue sign comes into view: Welcome to Mystic Hollow.
Gabriel pulls into what must be Mystic Hollow’s downtown. An adorable quintessential main street of redbrick buildings, each crowned with colorful awnings shading whimsical little shops. They all face a quaint town square at the heart of it all.
Elle and I have seen plenty of places like this while on the campaign trail across the country, but this town is especially charming.
I watch as a couple girls about my age leave one of the shops carrying chic mint-green shopping bags. #Wishthatwasme.
Mystic Hollow’s picturesque downtown could easily be the backdrop of one of Elle’s feel-good rom-coms—the kind where someone trips into a meet-cute and a cupcake at the same time, and the resolution only happens after a huge misunderstanding and magical lighting. Real life? I never.
The town square and surrounding park glow with easy summer vibes. Green benches warmed by the sun line the square while towering oak trees cast slow-moving shadows.
At the center of the square, a large white gazebo with a red roof and surrounded by flowerbeds bursting with cheerful zinnias and marigolds is the perfect setting for live music and dancing.
On the other end, a sunlit fountain bubbles cheerfully.
I imagine how refreshing it would feel sitting nearby as the fountain sprays its cool mist in the summer air.
Elle coos at the cute boutique shops housed within worn brick buildings, each with attractive displays like pastel soaps, bespoke jewelry, and lovingly crafted home goods.
American flags and colorful rainbow Pride banners ripple from tall, old-fashioned streetlamps, each one announcing events like Farmers’ Market or Founder’s Day Celebration in happy fonts.
It’s the kind of vibrant downtown my parents would love—brimming with small businesses, neighborly warmth, and a strong sense of community.
Elle jumps in her seat as she points at a shop on the corner. “That’s it. I recognize the green-and-white awning!”
Gabe nods. “The one and only Pat’s Famous Ice Cream.”
“We have to stop!” Elle pleads.
“On it.” Gabe makes a turn into a small parking lot behind the shops and parks in a space. I’m relieved to see there are only a couple cars, but then it is midmorning on a weekday.
“Let’s make this quick,” I say. I open my purse and retrieve two baseball hats. Elle wrinkles her nose. I wave it at her. “Come on, you know we shouldn’t draw attention.” Especially after sneaking out of the inn. I hand her the lavender hat while I pop on one of Dad’s old ones.
“We did it,” Elle says as we step out of the car.
“I told you I’d pay you back,” I respond. She beams at me, and I can’t help laughing.
“We’re going to be in so much trouble,” she whispers.
“I know. But we’re already grounded, so?” I shrug. My voice may be confident but inside I’m a pool of nerves. I’ve never done anything like this before. First, the pineapple pizza scandal. Next, I sneak away from my security detail. But if Elle notices how I’m really feeling, she doesn’t say so.
Gabe walks from his side of the truck to meet us. He’s wearing sunglasses and has his camera bag slung around his shoulders.
“Remember, I get to approve the photos,” I say pointedly.
He smirks. “I don’t know. I think I’m in the clear. With those hats, no one will ever recognize you.” He fails to hide the fact that he’s laughing at us.
I squint at him and point at his sunglasses. “May I borrow those?”
He frowns but removes his Ray-Bans and places them in my outstretched hand.
I slide them on and look at my reflection in his truck’s window. I’m pleased with what I see. Abby Cary-Alzona incognito mode.
Elle leans over. Her lashes flutter in that I’m-the-baby-so-you-have-to-listen-to-me way that’s plagued our relationship since always. “How about you and Gabe go get the ice cream. I’ll sit on a bench over there.” She points to a bench by the fountain.
I frown at my sister. “But ice cream was your idea.”
Elle shrugs. “There’s only one pair of sunglasses. Besides”—she holds up her phone—“I get service here! Bring me back a bubble-gum waffle bowl with rainbow sprinkles, would you?”
I roll my eyes. “Disgusting, but fine.”
Gabe motions toward the sidewalk, holding up his camera. “Shall we?”
I cast one last glance at my sister, who’s clearly abandoned me. By this time, I should be used to being alone with Gabriel, but the fluttering in my belly says otherwise.