7. Addison
7
Addison
T hat evening, Addison found her own uncharacteristically morose company rather tiresome. So, she changed into fleece-lined leggings, a bulky sweater, and a pair of boots that would keep her feet warm and dry. Then she walked the block and a half to The Cracked Spine, the local bookshop owned by her friend, Claire Maitland.
She and Claire chatted for a few minutes, but it was a busy night in the shop. A group of teenage girls pushed through the door, setting off the chimes that signaled more customers, bringing their lively chatter in with them. “Hi, Claire!” one of them called out, the others chorusing along. “You look amazing!” And she did, Addison acknowledged silently. Part of Claire’s charm was the cosplay outfits she wore to work, and this evening, she had dressed in the scarlet gown and simple white coif worn by Offred in Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale , her hair in a demure knot at the back of her neck. The red turned her pale skin to porcelain, her blue eyes to crystals.
Another girl added, “Hey, Addison.” It stirred something warm and fuzzy in her chest to be recognized by them, to know that she was known by so many people. That she belonged. Arnie's words from earlier replayed in her mind. Know where your deep roots are.
"Peruse to your heart’s content,” Claire told Addison before heading off to assist them. The girls were obviously regulars in the shop and knew exactly where to find the books they wanted, but they met Claire with big smiles and the effusive hugs that teenagers seemed to dole out without hesitation. It didn’t surprise Addison; Claire made friends with everyone. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Claire, Addison might still feel like an outsider in the small town she now called home.
It had been the bravest thing Addison had ever done, applying for and accepting the airline attendant job. She'd known when she'd submitted her application that her life would change dramatically if anything came of it.
Her parents, much to her surprise, had congratulated her profusely when she’d been offered the job, and had encouraged her to take it. Years later, she could still remember everything as if it had been yesterday.
“We know you aren’t really cut out to be road warriors like we are, Addie,” her mother declared.
“You’ve been such a trooper all these years,” her father agreed. “Gallivanting all over the globe with us. Attentive, helpful, always contributing wherever you can. That’s just how you are.”
“I was raised right,” Addison replied, embarrassed by their sincere praise and doing her best to swallow the tears that threatened to spill. “But are you sure you’ll be okay if I take the job immediately? I mean, I was supposed to go with you to Beijing next month.”
“We will be fine, Addie,” her mother said. “Beijing is our opportunity. Evansville, apparently, is yours.”
“We’ll be fine,” her father repeated. “Do you remember Pete Mavis? He’s been chomping at the bit to tag along on another trip with us.”
“Oh, he’ll jump at the chance to take your place,” her mother added.
“Not that he could ever fill your shoes.” Her father assured her. “No one could ever take your place. I’ll wager you’re going to be a tough act to follow, Addison Wedgewood.”
“Thank you, Dad. Mom. I—I guess I’ll tell them yes, then.”
“Good girl. Don’t second-guess yourself,” her mother instructed. “You’re strong. You’re beautiful. You’re brave. You’ve got what it takes. Now go make things happen.”
Her father chuckled and nudged her mom with his elbow. They sat side by side at the table, squeezing together so they could both see the phone screen during the video chat with Addison. “My wild road warrior,” he said to his wife, his smile one of complete adoration. Turning back to Addison on the phone, he winked. “My darling couch potato.”
“Thanks, Dad. Although I’m not sure if that’s a compliment.”
Their engaging conversation was a bit out of character for her parents, and Addison couldn't help but wonder if maybe she should have abandoned ship long ago. She’d been so afraid to tell them, to disappoint them, and instead, they’d been thrilled for her.
Apparently, Addison did have a little of her mother’s decisive alpha spirit in her, because within a week, she’d accepted the job, found the lovely apartment she now called home, and even bought the dependable little car she loved so much. She’d started her first day on the job only three weeks after accepting the offer.
And she’d never looked back.
“Did you find anything irresistible yet?” Claire made her way back to where Addison was perusing the post-Valentine’s clearance table.
“Absolutely.” Addison snatched up a box of chocolates and a bag of red and white saltwater taffy. Then she cocked her head at her friend. “Or did you mean books?” Then she pointed at the short stack of paperbacks she’d been setting aside to take home with her.
“You’ve got great taste,” Claire said, quickly scanning the titles in Addison’s pile. “And that chocolate is divine; only the best for The Cracked Spine.”
“Of course,” Addison said with a nod. “I would expect nothing less.”
Claire straightened a stack of love poetry books and smoothed the corners of the raspberry velvet tablecloth, then slowly lifted her gaze to meet Addison’s. “So…” she began, drawing the word out.
Addison set the box of chocolates down and turned her full attention on her friend. When Claire didn’t continue, she prompted, “So?”
“I think I met someone.”
Addison’s mouth fell open in surprise. “You what? You… think you met someone?”
“Nothing’s official or anything. It’s just a guy who’s been coming into the shop a lot recently, and you know how I am. No one is a stranger to me.”
“No one.” Addison fought back a delighted smile. She couldn’t remember ever seeing her friend so… so twitterpated , as Bambi would say.
“Well, after the third time he’d been into the shop in less than a week, I asked if he wanted to get coffee and go somewhere so we could talk about the books he was buying. He picked up one of your friend’s books, and you know how much I love talking about that series.”
“And?” Addison asked when Claire paused a little too long. Surely there was more to the story than that.
“And…” Claire gave a little shoulder shimmy. “He said that he’d love to, but that it was too late in the afternoon for more coffee. So, we ended up walking to the lake and sitting on one of the benches on the shore for more than an hour. It wasn’t busy here, and Tina had just gotten out of school and was happy to take over so I could slip away.”
“It’s still winter, girlie,” Addison said, her brows lifting. “It's frigid down by the lake.”
“It is, indeed,” Claire said, a sparkle in her eye. “But we sat close, and when I started shivering, he put his arm around me to warm me up.”
“And you let him?” This was a whole new side of her friend; one Addison hadn’t seen before.
“Not only did I let him,” Claire said, her cheeks coloring with pleasure. “I kinda snuggled up to his side, too.”
“Who is it?” Addison asked, leaning forward in anticipation. “What’s his name? Do I know him?”
Claire hedged a moment, then said, “Don’t hate me. Promise?”
Addison’s brows drew together. “Why would I hate you?”
“Because I can’t tell you who it is.” She grimaced sheepishly and reached out to take Addison’s hand. “I want to; I really do. But I don’t want to jinx it, you know. I get the feeling he’s coming to Autumn Lake to get away from something. Or someone. I didn’t press because I don’t want to know. Because I really like him.” She suddenly looked terribly vulnerable, something else that Addison hadn’t seen in Claire before.
Addison tried not to frown. “Wow. That—I mean, of course you don’t have to tell me his name. That’s your choice.”
“But?” Claire prodded, even though her expression told Addison she wasn’t excited to hear her reservations.
“It’s not really a but,” Addison countered, squeezing her hand. “I mean, I love the thought of you meeting someone; and what better place than here at your shop? It sounds like the perfect meet-cute.”
“But?” Claire repeated, pulling her hand free so she could rearrange a tray of heart-shaped page-corner bookmarks.
“I don't know. I guess it just sounds like there’s potential for trouble, you know, with the whole ‘getting away from something’ you mentioned. You’re talking about your heart, Claire, and I care about that heart. If this guy is attached…”
“I don’t think he’s attached,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t get that vibe from him.”
“But he’s got secrets?” Addison was trying to keep a positive perspective on things, but her concern was growing as Claire talked.
“I don’t know that they’re secrets,” Claire countered. “I just feel like he’s got a backstory that might be a big deal.”
“Where is he from?”
“I—I don’t know. But it must not be too far because he drives here.”
Addison asked, “Do you know where he works? What he does for a living?”
Claire hedged again. “I’m not sure, but I know it has to do with helping people,” she finally said. “I think that may be part of what he’s dealing with. Like maybe there’s a lot on his shoulders right now.”
“Did he ask you for your number? Or give you his?” Addison reached over and covered Claire’s hand with her own. “Or you can tell me it’s none of my business, of course.”
“It’s okay,” Claire said. “And no, he hasn't. But he has my number. It’s on the shop bag and on his receipts.”
Addison thought maybe she was being too much of a downer. Just because she couldn’t find a nice man of her own didn’t mean no one else should be able to. She smiled warmly. “I’m happy for you, Claire. I promise. You are kinda glowing, you know.”
“I feel like I’m glowing,” Claire agreed. “Like I’m floating about an inch off the ground.” She lowered her gaze a moment, and when she met Addison’s eyes again, she said, “I had to tell someone about him, or I would have gone crazy. But I don’t want to worry about the 'what ifs' right now.”
Addison thought she understood where her friend was coming from. That place of uncertain hope in something that seemed possible, but maybe not so probable. “He’ll call, Claire,” she said, reassuringly, even if she didn’t fully believe it.