Chapter Ten #2
I was halfway through my first cup of coffee Monday morning when the doorbell rang, and I groaned into my mug. Oh, God, this again? It was too early for all this. But my breath came shallower in my chest, because of who might be on the other side of that door.
At least I was ready this time. I’d gotten dressed first thing today—no more sock slides with a T-shirt on my head for this girl. I never knew who was going to show up at our house these days, and if he might want to kiss me again.
“Door!” Mitch called gleefully from his place on the couch. He was firmly into the “milking the hell out of it” stage of his injury. He’d threatened to get a little bell to ring, but one look from my mom had shut him up fast about that.
“Whyyyyy?” I drew out the word into at least four syllables as I put my mug on the kitchen counter and headed through into the living room. “The chess match was fine.” I looked to Mitch for confirmation; while he’d been stuck at home all weekend, Emily had sent him plenty of video footage.
Mitch shrugged and sipped from his own coffee.
“You know Simon,” he said, with the long-suffering air of someone who’s known Simon for a little too long.
“Somebody probably stepped slightly too far to the left, and now everyone has to spend the day running through the whole thing. He texted last night that the cast would be over today for another few run-throughs.”
“Wonderful,” I grumbled, while inside my heart hammered against my rib cage.
My sleep last night had been restless, as my brain replayed that kiss on repeat.
Had I really almost fainted in front of Alex?
I wasn’t ready yet to face him today. Nor was I ready for the whole chess match cast; if they were on my front steps I was going back to bed.
There was no cast of thousands on the front porch.
No Alex. Instead Stacey stood there, her blond hair pushed back from her forehead with her sunglasses.
She wore another pink sundress and white sandals, neither of which I could see very well because she had the Queen’s costume bundled in her arms like a misbehaving duvet.
“Here.” She shoved the pile of fabric into my arms without preamble. “I quit.”
I tried to shove it back. “You can’t quit. You’re the Queen.”
“I’m really not.” Stacey crossed her arms, refusing to take it, and now I was left with a huge dress in my arms and my coffee all the way back in the kitchen.
We could continue to fight about it, but the door was wide open and I’d been raised to close the door when the air conditioner was on. I jerked my head backwards. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” She gave a pleased sigh as she stepped into the house. “Hey, Mitch! How’s the ankle?”
Mitch growled from his place on the sofa. Stacey made sympathetic noises as she perched on the arm of the sofa next to him, patting his arm. “If it makes you feel any better, we all miss you. It’s not the same without you there.”
“Yeah?” That perked him up a little, and he looked to me for confirmation.
I nodded, dumping the costume into the chair closest to the door. “Lots of people were asking about you.”
“Exactly,” Stacey said. “You and your kilt, you’re the biggest draw we’ve got. I keep telling Simon that we need to put you on a poster.”
Mitch snorted, but he smiled, his ego appropriately stroked. “Maybe ten years ago. But now?” He shook his head. “I dunno. The kids get younger every year, don’t they?” For some reason he addressed the question to me instead of Stacey, who was more his age.
I knew what he meant, though. I’d watched this year’s iteration of the Gilded Lilies warm up before opening gate. They looked like toddlers. Had I ever been that young? It seemed like forever.
But Stacey made more sympathetic noises, patting him on the arm again before standing up and taking his coffee mug from the end table. “Refill?”
“Please.” He reached for the remote, his other hand scratching Murray behind the ears. Dog and man sighed in unison while Stacey followed me into the kitchen.
“Well.” Stacey kept her voice low as she glanced over her shoulder. “He’s fun.”
My lips twitched in a smile. “He’s restless.
On a normal morning he’s done like three workouts by now.
” I passed Stacey a clean mug then reached for the coffeepot, refilling Mitch’s mug and bringing it to him.
By the time I got back she was taking a first sip from a doctored-up mug, the sugar bowl at her left elbow.
I warmed up my own cup and for a few moments we both mainlined caffeine.
Then I chanced it. “You’re really out? Not going to do the Queen again? It’s only two more weekends.” Stacey was the most agreeable person I’d ever met. Surely if I applied enough pressure I could talk her into changing her mind.
“Absolutely not.” Stacey shook her head firmly, and my heart sank. “It’s just…the costume looks like crap on me. You and I both know that we could barely strap me into the thing.”
I wanted to protest, but she was right. I thought she looked great in the dress, but she was clearly out of her comfort zone in it. If we could get a new costume for her in the next five days, that would be one thing, but as it was, it was unfair to make her keep doing it.
“Okay.” I sighed and finished my coffee.
“I’ll run the costume to the cleaners and let Emily know.
You’re right; you have your own job to do.
It’s not fair to make you do this one too.
” That made me think of Alex, and his multiple performances this past weekend.
He wasn’t far from making the Willow Creek Renaissance Faire a one-man show.
“Speaking of, I should be getting back.” Stacey plucked her sunglasses off the top of her head, shaking out her blond waves before winding it all into a bun again, securing it with a scrunchie from around her wrist. “Daniel wanted to go over the inventory for the merch table, and it goes so much faster when we work together.”
After Stacey left I rinsed out our mugs and put them in the dishwasher, my mind back on its current hyperfixation: Alex. Which made me think about that kiss. Which made me think about the chess match, and that Simon could be here any minute. Alex could be here any minute.
Oh, look, my panic was back.
I thought fast, bundling the Queen’s costume together with my pink lady-in-waiting dress. “Going to the cleaners!” I tossed the words over my shoulder on my way out the door. I couldn’t avoid Alex forever. I didn’t want to avoid Alex forever, but I wasn’t ready. Not quite yet.
I couldn’t flee to the bookstore; it was closed on Mondays. Jackson’s didn’t open till eleven, so after I dropped off the dresses I ended up at a coffee shop downtown. My residual panic bubbled over while I waited for my latte and I reached for my phone, texting Nina and Toby.
Alex kissed me after pub sing.
They both took Mondays off from their normal-people day jobs, but Mondays after Faire weekends were also for rotting in bed, so it felt like tossing the words into the void, but typing bubbles appeared almost immediately.
!!!!! Nina wasn’t especially eloquent here, but she got the point across.
And how are we feeling about this? Toby had always been the most levelheaded of the three of us. He was asking the important question.
Didn’t I tell you to be careful?? Okay, Nina was asking a pretty important question too.
I am, I typed back. Don’t worry. I decided not to mention the whole part where I’d almost fainted.
I think you should go for it. I blinked when Toby’s text came through. That was the last thing I expected from Toby. He was the sensible one.
????? It was my turn for a string of punctuation.
Typing bubbles popped up, vanished, then popped up again for a long time. He has a point. I rescind my urging of caution. You’ve had a hard couple of months, and you deserve a little fun. Go have some fun with Alex.
Toby gave that message a thumbs-up, then added, Make him fall for you, then dump his ass. Boom! Revenge.
Nina reacted with a laughing emoji, but her next message was the voice of reason. Just DON’T GET ATTACHED.
I reread the string of messages as I picked up my butterscotch iced latte and gave a thoughtful sip, taking Nina’s all-caps warning to heart. I could kiss Alex—I could do more than kiss Alex—without losing my heart again. I knew what I was doing now.
And if he was the one to lose his heart this time? Well, that wouldn’t be my fault, would it?
Alex wasn’t my future. I was certain of that. But there were only two more weekends in the season, and there was nothing wrong with making him a part of my present. A really, really fun part.
Gotta go, I typed. Fight rehearsal at my house today, and I’ve got a heart to play with.
Emoji-filled notifications—laughing faces and fire and eggplants—started stacking up as I put my phone away and headed to my car. I could do this. I could enjoy a meaningless fling while keeping my heart safe at the same time.
How hard could it be?