25. Harper
CHAPTER 25
Harper
Marigold had a lovely kitchen. She didn’t have a stand-mixer, but that wasn’t a problem. She had plenty of ingredients, and mixing by hand was part of the therapeutic nature of stress-baking.
After leaving Garrett’s house, I’d intended to go home and do exactly what I was doing at Marigold’s—bake entirely too many sugary treats. Which was fine. It wouldn’t have been the first time.
But Marigold had texted to see how things were going and wound up inviting me over. Audrey had arrived just after me, but instead of curling up on the couch and spilling all my feelings over cups of tea—which had probably been Marigold’s intent—I’d asked if I could mess up her kitchen.
I’d promised to clean up.
I wasn’t great at sitting still under the best of circumstances. Even less so when I was stressed. And right then, I was a big ball of chaotic stress energy. My hair was twisted into a messy bun and I wore a pink apron with a ruffle hem that I’d found in the pantry. It was so pristine, I had a feeling Marigold had never worn it, let alone splattered it with eggs and flour .
The air was filled with the scent of the double chocolate brownies I’d already put in the oven, and I was busy scooping peanut butter cookies onto a baking sheet.
“Are you sure there’s nothing we can do to help?” Marigold asked.
She and Audrey sat on counter-height stools, watching me work. I had no idea what I’d done to deserve them. They barely knew me and there they were, giving up their evenings with their husbands to hang out with me.
The least I could do was feed them dessert.
“No, I’ve got it. If I stop moving, I’ll… you know, stop moving. Can’t have that.”
“I’m not even hungry, and those brownies smell so good I could probably eat the entire pan,” Audrey said. “And then have some of those cookies for dessert.”
“You really do have a gift,” Marigold said.
“Thank you.” I dropped another scoop of dough onto the baking sheet, my mind already contemplating what I might make next.
Or whether I should stop using up all Marigold’s ingredients and get out of her kitchen.
I hadn’t said a lot since I’d arrived, and they hadn’t asked. I got the sense they were waiting for me to share, and if I didn’t, they weren’t going to push.
It made me want to trust them, even more than I already did.
That was a little scary. I was already feeling a vulnerability hangover coming on, the fear that I’d shared too much—and trusted too much—making me want to retreat into my own little bubble. As I worked, I kept having to remind myself they weren’t my mom or sister. I wasn’t going to get an I told you so , or a now you’re stuck in a dead-end life with that small-town guy from them.
I checked the oven timer again. I’d only set the one, so I needed to be careful. I’d turned my phone off. Not so much to avoid Garrett as to try to avoid my bad luck cutting in. The last thing I’d needed was a phone call from my mom or sister, and with my luck, that’s exactly what would have happened.
Better not to chance it. I’d talk to Garrett in the morning.
I finished placing the balls of dough and started pressing them with a fork to make the classic peanut butter cookie impression on the tops. Marigold and Audrey chatted while I worked. Something about the normalcy of their conversation and the repetitive motion of pressing a fork into cookie dough helped calm me down. I felt a little less frantic.
“Obviously I told Garrett,” I said out of the blue. “He wasn’t angry or anything. Just shocked. And of course he would be. I am too.”
“I can’t imagine him getting mad,” Marigold said.
“No, he wasn’t.” I went to the oven and peeked at the brownies. They needed more time. “But the timing could have been better. He’d just finished telling me all about his work troubles. I kept thinking I should wait. It’s not like I’m going to be less pregnant tomorrow, and maybe not dumping this on him when he was already stressed would be better.”
“I wouldn’t say you’re dumping anything on him,” Audrey said.
“Still. I was going to wait, except he could tell something was wrong. He kept asking what was going on and I just blurted it out. It was like he could see right through me.”
“What did he say?” Marigold asked, her voice gentle.
“I don’t remember, exactly. Mostly he was shocked. I didn’t stay long after that. I figured he needed space to process everything. I’d already had half a day to start coming to terms with it. I thought I should give him some time. Although now I’m wondering if that was the right thing.”
“I bet it was,” Marigold said. “Sometimes space to process is what we all need.”
“And you can come back together tomorrow with clearer heads,” Audrey said .
“That’s true. I already feel a bit calmer than I did earlier, although baking always helps.” I glanced at the mess. “Sorry I used so much stuff. I’ll replace it.”
Marigold waved a hand. “Don’t even worry about it.”
“I’m sorry if this is awkward,” I said with a soft laugh. “You two hardly know me, and here I am dirtying up your kitchen and using all your flour while I pour out my problems to you.”
“Sometimes friendships can be instant,” Audrey said. “And you just need somebody.”
“Absolutely,” Marigold said.
My eyes stung with tears. “You’re both too good to be true. I feel like my bad luck is going to come crashing in at any moment and, I don’t know, start a kitchen fire or something.”
“Bad luck?” Audrey asked.
I took a deep breath. “I realize this might sound a little out there, but I broke a mirror six years ago and I’ve had crazy bad luck ever since. The weirdest things happen to me and I’m sure it’s because of the mirror curse. I don’t know why it’s surprising that my birth control failed. Of course it did. That’s my luck.”
“Maybe it won’t turn out to be bad luck in the long run,” Audrey said.
“I really want to believe that. But everything feels like chaos.” The oven timer dinged, so I checked the brownies. They looked perfect. I took them out and set them on a cooling rack.
“That’s totally valid,” Marigold said. “Be gentle with yourself right now. You just found out something totally life changing and you’re not sure what it means for your relationship.”
“I think it’s all going to work out,” Audrey said. “Garrett will come around.”
“Are you always this optimistic?” I asked .
She smiled. “Pretty much.”
“I admire that. I just keep thinking about the night he stood me up. My aunt Doris set us up on a blind date and he missed it. And I thought, this is good. The bad luck curse is always lurking, so I should just wait to start dating until it’s over. Then I won’t have to worry about what the curse will do to sabotage me. And what did I do? The exact opposite of waiting. I jumped in head first. And look where that got me.”
Audrey picked up her phone and her brows drew in. “Um…”
“Is something wrong?” Marigold asked.
“Josiah just texted. He says, ‘Incoming.’”
“What does that mean?”
“That’s Josiah speak for ‘Garrett is coming here.’”
A twinge of nervousness pinged through me. “Why would he come here?”
“I bet he’s with Zachary,” Marigold said. “He must know you’re here and wants to see you.”
I bit my bottom lip. Was I ready to see him? I felt like a mess. My hair was in disarray, I probably had flour on my face. I needed to put the cookies in the oven, but I had a feeling if I did, I’d wind up burning them. So I left them on the counter and turned off the oven. I didn’t want to tempt my bad luck into striking again, especially in someone else’s house.
A moment later, we heard the sound of a car outside. My heart sped up and my stomach felt jumpy. I had the urge to shove a bunch of peanut butter cookie dough into my mouth, but I stopped myself.
Marigold got up and went to the door, then paused. “Is that singing?”
Audrey and I shared a glance. After a second, I heard it too. Men’s voices, almost chanting, as if they were singing an old-fashioned drinking song.
The door flew open and Zachary came in. Garrett had his arm draped over Zachary’s shoulders and he leaned against him, as if he were having trouble standing on his own.
“Squirrel, oh squirrel, high up in the tree,” they sang together, “bury them nuts, but save some for me. Have a whiskey, have a bourbon, a scotch or a beer. But don’t kick the squirrel, make sure the way’s clear.”
They both laughed hysterically, as if that was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. Garrett especially.
I met Audrey’s eyes, confusion plain on my face.
“Old Tilikum drinking song.” She shrugged. “I guess drunk lumberjacks don’t make sense.”
“Oh boy.” Marigold ushered them in and shut the door behind them. “Scale of one to ten, honey. How drunk are you?”
“Zero,” Zachary said, enunciating the word. “I can’t say as much for this guy, though.”
“I’m not drunk.” Garrett stumbled. “Much.”
“This is definitely my fault.” Zachary patted Garrett’s chest. “Sorry, gorgeous.”
“It’s okay,” Marigold said. “Should we get him to the guest room?”
“I think couch is our best bet.” Zachary’s gaze moved to me. “Sorry, Harper. Didn’t want him going home to Owen like this.”
“Is Owen alone?”
“Nah, Luke’s over there. He’ll spend the night.”
“Where we are?” Garrett asked, blinking hard.
“My house, bro,” Zachary said. “Your girl’s here, by the way. I know you’re drunk, but maybe don’t say anything stupid.”
Garrett narrowed his eyes at me. “Harper?”
It was hard not to laugh. The straight-backed sheriff’s deputy was nowhere to be seen. This Garrett had a lazy smile and looked like he might fall over.
He was so endearing, I could hardly stand it .
“Yeah, I’m here. Why don’t you go lie down. You don’t look like you’re going to be able to stay on your feet much longer.”
“Too much drank,” he mumbled. “No. Drank too much.”
“I can see that.”
“His fault.” He attempted to elbow Zachary in the ribs, but it didn’t look like there was much force behind it.
I took off the apron and set it on the counter while Zachary led a stumbling Garrett into the living room. He collapsed onto the couch and Zachary picked up his legs, turning him so he was lying down.
“There you go, my dude,” Zachary said. “Feeling pukey or anything?”
“No. I’ve got this.”
“Yeah.” Zachary winked at me. “You definitely do.”
Audrey gave me a quick hug goodbye and I went into the living room. I lowered myself onto the edge of the couch and ran my fingers through his hair. Zachary and Marigold quietly went into another room, leaving us alone.
“Hi, beautiful,” he said, his eyes half-closed.
“Hey, there.”
“Didn’t mean to drink so much.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
“Tried to call you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I didn’t know if touching him was the best idea right then, but I couldn’t help myself. I caressed his stubbly jaw. “I turned my phone off.”
His eyes drifted closed, then opened again. “Worried about you.”
“I’m okay. Are you?”
He gave me a very lopsided grin. “Yeah. Good bourbon.”
I laughed. “I can see that.”
“Harper.” He opened his eyes wider, as if he were trying to focus on my face. “I think I’m in love with you. ”
Those words hurt. Not because I didn’t want to hear them. My heart wanted to soar with happiness.
But I had no idea if he meant it. Or if he’d regret all of this in the morning. If he even remembered.
I put my finger to his lips. “Shh. Not right now.”
“No.” He grabbed my wrist in a gentle grip. “That’s what’s so hard. I shouldn’t love you yet. Aren’t people supposed to take it slow? Doesn’t it take time to know for sure?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
His gaze locked with mine and his eyes were suddenly clear. “I think I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you.”
A single tear broke free and trailed down my cheek. “You’re not going to remember this tomorrow.”
“I will. I mean it, Harper. I love you.”
I leaned down and pressed my lips to his. I wanted to believe him. I really, really did.
But I didn’t know if I could.