Chapter 18
Zoe stood in front of Miller’s Mercantile, feeling resolute but also nervous.
After rejecting Jenna’s offer of help the other night, she was feeling the need to make amends, which, it had to be said, was not her usual MO.
Smarty and sassy badasses didn’t usually say sorry, but Zoe was trying to be different.
Trying to let people into her life rather than keep them out of it.
It had started with her heart-to-heart with Dan last night, which had been painful but sweet and also oddly hopeful. And for a few seconds there, once again she’d thought he might kiss her… that was, until Sophie interrupted them for a second time.
“Again what?” Dan had asked his daughter mildly as he’d slipped his fingers from Zoe’s; she’d found she’d missed his touch.
“You caught me chatting with a friend in my own living room? Shock, horror.” He’d rolled his eyes good-naturedly while Sophie glowered, looking like she was trying to seem outraged but was secretly pleased.
Or maybe it was more complicated than that; Sophie had been playing matchmaker, but Zoe suspected the fourteen-year-old’s feelings were a little more tangled up, now that she’d almost caught them in the act of… something.
Nothing had felt simple, for any of them.
“I should get back,” Zoe had told Dan as she’d slipped from the sofa. “My parents… but I’ll see you tomorrow night?” She’d realized she was looking forward to the barbecue.
“Tomorrow night?” Sophie had repeated suspiciously. “Are you guys going on a date?”
Before Zoe could deny the charge, Dan leaped in. “Zoe and her parents are coming over for a barbecue,” he’d told his daughter. “Assuming the rain has stopped, that is.”
“The rain has stopped,” Sophie replied. “That’s why I walked home instead of asking you to pick me up.”
“Of course.” Dan had nodded while Zoe had gone upstairs to get the clothes she’d left drying in the bathroom.
They’d still been too wet to put on, and so she’d gone back downstairs, still dressed in Dan’s t-shirt and sweatpants, which Sophie had clearly noticed, judging by her narrowed eyes.
A few minutes later Zoe had left, promising to return the clothes after she’d washed them.
And she was definitely not going to admit to anyone that, after she’d changed into her own clothes back in her bedroom at home, she’d held Dan’s t-shirt up to her nose to see if she could catch a faint whiff of his woodsy scent.
All she’d been able to smell was laundry detergent and a hint of her own perfume.
But now here she was, trying to be different, not just with Dan, but with other people, too.
People who had known her a long time, or thought they’d known her, and might be surprised to discover how different she was.
Admitting that felt even scarier than revealing her vulnerabilities to Dan, who had only just met her.
She’d seen firsthand how hard it could be for the people of Starr’s Fall to accept someone had changed.
Zach had struggled for years against his cocky sports star reputation from high school.
How was Jenna, or anyone else for that matter, going to react to the news that Zoe Wilkinson wasn’t who she’d said she was?
Well, there was only one way to find out.
Squaring her shoulders, Zoe walked up the porch steps to Miller’s Mercantile.
She opened the door with a jingle of bells and then stepped inside.
Last Christmas, Jenna had, with the help of her now-fiancé Jack Wexler, renovated the store.
It had been looking tired before, but now Zoe admired the salad bar and coffee station, the basket for food pantry donations and the display of all the fixings for a summer barbecue—picnic basket and blanket included.
“Hey, Zoe,” Jenna greeted her from behind the old-fashioned mahogany counter at the back of the store. She sounded, Zoe thought, friendly but cautious. “How are you?”
“Okay. Every time I come in here, I forget how amazing it looks now,” Zoe told her with a smile. “How’s business?”
“Better than it was, certainly.” Jenna propped her elbows on the counter. “I liked the logo you and Dan Bryson came up with, by the way. I had to miss the business association meeting last week because Jack had a work thing, but I’m sure everyone said as much.”
“Yeah, I think it’s gone over well.” Zoe stood in front of the counter, suddenly feeling shy as well as exposed, and she hadn’t even said anything. “Look,” she told Jenna in a rush, “I wanted to apologize for the other day. I know I was kind of rude to you when you offered to help me get ready.”
Jenna shrugged. “I guess I was a little pushy.”
“It’s not that. I mean, yes, you can be a little pushy sometimes,” Zoe agreed teasingly, “but the truth is, I’m a pretty private person. More, maybe, than most people here realize.”
Jenna cocked her head, her eyebrows raised as she waited for Zoe to explain herself a little more.
“I don’t know if you’re aware, or if anyone is, but I still live with my parents.”
Jenna nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know,” she said after a moment. “I mean, I currently live with my mom. What’s the big deal about that?”
“They’re sick,” Zoe said. “Both of them, pretty seriously.”
Jenna frowned in thought. “I know your mom has MS…”
“Yeah, and she’s pretty much housebound now.
My dad is also sick, though. He has MDS, it’s kind of like a pre-leukemia.
” And, Zoe worried, maybe not so pre anymore.
“I take care of them,” she finished. “Which I think people kind of know but also don’t.
And I don’t talk about it, like, ever, but that’s why I don’t always go out and stuff like that.
And I just haven’t wanted people to know.
” When she said it out loud, it sounded so stupid.
Why wouldn’t you want people to know, especially in a small town like Starr’s Fall, where so many were willing and even eager to help if she just told them she needed them to?
“I’m sorry,” Jenna said quietly. “I didn’t realize it was that serious.
” She paused, her expression thoughtful while Zoe did her best not to squirm under that assessing gaze.
“I kind of get being private,” she said at last. “I am, too. But… it sounds like you’re dealing with a lot, Zoe.
I’m pretty sure there are quite a few people who would want to help.
Maggie, for one, and Laurie, and Zach and Lizzy and Annie, too… if you just gave them the word…”
“I know,” Zoe replied. “I just didn’t want any help. Or really, I didn’t want to be the kind of person who needed help.” She shrugged, her shoulders hunching. “And I didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for me.”
Jenna sighed. “Yeah, I definitely get that,” she said. “But something I’ve learned over the years is you don’t have any real friends until you actually tell them what’s going on in your life. Otherwise it’s just shallow and fake, no matter how good it looks from the outside.”
Ouch. Zoe gave a theatrical wince. “So, are you saying all my relationships have been shallow and fake?” she asked, only half-teasing.
Jenna lifted her eyebrows. “If the shoe fits…” she began, before tempering the rebuke with a smile.
“Seriously, though, I’m glad you told me.
And, truth be told, maybe I should have known.
Maybe a lot of us should put two and two together and realized what was going on.
And maybe some people do, but they respect you not wanting to talk about it.
I don’t know.” She let out a pent-up breath.
“As for me… I guess I just took you at face value, and I should know better than to do that with anyone.” She gave a grimace of apology.
“But maybe now I can help. And other people can, too, with whatever you need?” She looked at Zoe expectantly, clearly waiting for her to explain how.
“Thanks,” she said after a moment. “I’m grateful.
I’ll be honest, I don’t know what that looks like just now, but…
it’s a help, just having people know. I’m glad I told you.
” At least, she thought she was. It still felt weird and more than a little uncomfortable to have shared so much, but she was getting used to it. Hopefully.
“I’m glad you told me, too,” Jenna said. “Life isn’t easy when you try to do it on your own.”
No, it wasn’t, Zoe reflected as she headed back out of the store, having bought a few staples as well as a cappuccino to go. She needed to get back to The Latest Scoop to open by noon; it was another hot day, which was always good for business.
Sophie was waiting outside as Zoe came down the street.
“Sorry I’m a little late,” she remarked as she unlocked the door. “How was dance class yesterday?”
“Yeah, it was okay,” Sophie said in the tone of someone who was trying to play it cool. “Ms. Williams said Bella and I could help teach the really little kids. They’re, like, three years old. I mean, they barely know how to walk.”
Zoe chuckled at that. “I bet they’re pretty cute.”
“Well.” Sophie gave a grimacing sort of nod. “I guess.”
As they worked on opening the store, Zoe wondered if Sophie would ask anything more about coming in on her and Dan last night, not that there had been anything to come in on.
Dan had been holding her hand, yes—something that still gave her a thrill—but Zoe didn’t think Sophie had noticed.
And it had been in comfort rather than anything romantic… right?
Zoe had been mentally debating that point since Dan had first twined his fingers with hers. She still hadn’t come to a satisfactory conclusion, even though she could recall exactly how his long, lean fingers had felt sliding across hers.
In any case, Sophie didn’t mention last night, and after twenty minutes, as they worked in harmony, Zoe started to wonder why. Was it because there was nothing to mention, or was Sophie trying to play it cool, or had she changed her mind about wanting Zoe and her dad to get together?
Clearly she was overthinking this, and she needed to stop.
“Shall we throw a batch of ice cream in before we open the doors?” she suggested to Sophie. She glanced at the flavors already on offer. “How about something fruity? Strawberry cheesecake or raspberry ripple?”
“Okay.” Sophie didn’t sound as enthused about making ice cream as she normally did, and Zoe tried not to worry. Sophie was fourteen. Her moods went up and down by the hour, if not the minute. She really was overthinking all this.
The rest of the afternoon went by quickly, with a steady stream of customers. Sophie now operated the cash register with calm efficiency, and she could scoop ice cream almost as cleanly as Zoe could, after six years on the job. She needed to think about giving the girl a raise.
It was near closing time when they had two unexpected visitors—Dan, with his arm through Henrietta Starr’s. Zoe was pretty sure Henrietta had never been in The Latest Scoop before. She wasn’t even sure she’d ever spoken to the matriarch of Starr’s Fall, but she certainly recognized her.
“Miss Starr!” she exclaimed just as Sophie put her hands on her hips, blowing a strand of hair from her eyes.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I thought I’d show your great-grandmother what you were up to,” he replied easily, but giving Zoe a jolt.
Somehow she’d sort of forgotten that Dan was Henrietta Starr’s grandson.
“She’s coming to the barbecue, so we thought we’d stop by and buy a couple of pints for dessert.
” His gaze rested on Zoe, eyes crinkling in a way that made her stomach curl with a lovely kind of anticipation. “What do you recommend?”
“We just made some raspberry ripple,” Sophie chimed in. “And the chocolate peanut butter is really good.”
“Peanut butter in ice cream?” Henrietta sniffed. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Then you’ll have to try some,” Dan replied. He’d clearly got the measure of his ornery grandmother, Zoe thought, suppressing a smile.
“I suppose I could,” Henrietta replied, looking around uncertainly. For a moment, clutching Dan’s arm, she looked as vulnerable as Zoe had felt last night, an old woman clinging to the last of her dignity. Zoe’s sense of intimidation faded as she recognized an unexpected kindred spirit.
“We also have a lovely bourbon vanilla,” she told Henrietta warmly. “Or a salted caramel?”
Henrietta Starr glanced at her, her shrewd blue eyes narrowed as she took in Zoe’s pink hair, piercings, and of course the tattoos. Zoe tensed, awaiting some criticism of her appearance. Everyone in Starr’s Fall knew how Henrietta always spoke her mind, and she doubted her punky look passed muster.
“I like your hair,” Henrietta pronounced. “I always wanted to do something fanciful with mine, but I never worked up the nerve.” She nodded toward the ice cream counter. “And I’ll have the chocolate peanut butter. Life is too short to always stick with vanilla.”