Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
FREYA
Iwatch as the little girl staring through the window gets ushered away by her parents, leaving two streaks of condensation where her nostrils were pressed against the glass.
My stomach sinks at the sight of their backs. I was hoping they’d be my third customers of the morning, but no luck. Instead they’re striding in the direction of the firehouse, the girl skipping between them as she chatters about something I can’t hear.
It’s never been this quiet on a Saturday.
I know it’s the Open House, but when Oscar said everyone would be there, I didn’t think he meant everyone.
More people amble past the window, all heading the same way.
I look down at the desk, my hand creeping over until my fingers brush the corner of the flyer.
I push back in my chair, going to open my desk drawer. Might as well use the quiet to work on more Denver prep. I need to place some additional orders for the extra stock I want to take with me.
“You should go.” The voice makes me jump so hard I hit my knee against the underside of the desk. Valerie stands in the doorway, her gray hair in a long braid that hangs over the shoulder of her yellow rain jacket. When did she get here?
I sigh. “I can’t.” She knows that. I don’t know why she’s pushing.
“Why not?”
I gesture around the space. “I’m kind of tied up, Val.”
“Yeah, really run off your feet.” The sarcasm dripping off her is so thick even I can pick up on it.
“I can’t just close.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d be losing business!”
She stares me down with a look that tells me she’s on to me. “Honey, nobody’s coming.” I go to say something, but she cuts me off. “Nobody’s going anywhere except the fundraiser. Even Becca’s closed up for the afternoon, same as most of the stores in town.”
I glance across the street to confirm what she’s saying, finding the lights off and a sign taped to the door.
“You’re not going to make any friends from in here.” She raises an eyebrow. I have to fight to keep my mouth from dropping open. “You should give people in town a chance.”
“I do!” Where does she get the nerve?
“When?” She props her shoulder on the doorframe, every part of her face oozing challenge.
I mean sure, maybe I’m not the most outgoing person, but I try.
Mostly.
Being around new people requires so much energy, so much thought to try to calibrate myself to act the way they want me to, to carefully construct the version that I think they’ll like. Most of the time I just can’t handle it.
Valerie must see something in my face because she steps further into the store, the door closing behind her.
“Freya, I know it’s hard, but you gotta get out there sometime.” She moves toward me until she’s rounding the desk. “Think of it like networking.”
“I don’t know…” My fingers tie themselves into knots in my lap. I know she’s right, but I really wish I didn’t have to admit it.
I think she knows this is the best she’s going to get, because she changes the subject. “What are you doing on Friday?”
Same thing I do every other day. Sit alone, maybe fit in a cry if I’m lucky. “Nothing much,” I mumble.
“Then, why don’t you finally come over for dinner?”
“Valerie…”
“No, no. I don’t want to hear it. You’ve been putting me off for weeks. I’m not taking no for an answer this time.”
“I don’t want to impose.”
“You wouldn’t be. I cook enough to feed an army anyway.”
I rack my brain, scrambling for an excuse.
“Sure, maybe,” I say reluctantly.
“Great!” She taps her knuckles against the desk. “I’ve got to get going. I’m helping Donna out with her candle stand.”
“Good luck.”
She hesitates, and I wonder if she’s going to insist all over again that I join her. “I promise your life in Cedar Creek could be everything you hoped for. If you just let it.”
Is this a terrible idea? I look up at the station sign from twenty feet down the street. The bay doors are rolled up and I can hear music and chatter escaping. It sounds like there are hundreds of people in there.
I don’t know if I can do this.
That gnawing, lonely feeling opens up another inch inside me. The pit that never seems to be filled. I could almost double over from the force of it. I want to be with them so badly, but I don’t know how.
I don’t know how to make them like me.
I flinch at the sound as I enter the station and it takes a minute to get my bearings.
Each wall is lined with a row of booths, displaying things from around town.
There’s honey from a local beekeeper, lino prints, artisan dog treats.
Anything you could think of, there’s someone in Cedar Creek making it.
I notice that every stand seems to have two or three people working.
The convention is gonna be just like this, if not busier.
Am I really going to be able to manage by myself?
Streamers hang from the ceiling and upbeat folk music comes from speakers mounted in each corner. But above all, there’s people. People everywhere. Some are familiar, customers from the store or people I’ve seen around, but most are strangers.
I thought that in coming back there would be more faces I recognized, and whilst I’ve run into plenty who I knew growing up, the town’s changed so much in the time I’ve been gone. I suppose it’s only natural for people to come and go, but it’s made for a hard adjustment.
My fingers flutter at my sides, looking for something to tap against. I pull in some deep breaths as I scan the room. When I catch eyes with Valerie I get a thumbs-up and a grin, but she turns away to help somebody who’s come up to look at the table she’s working.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse a head of familiar dark hair. It vanishes into the commotion around the apple cider stand before I can be sure and I sigh.
“Freya?”
My breath catches and I turn to see Becca dressed in a thick yellow sweater and jeans, her smile warm as she approaches.
“Hi,” I croak, then clear my throat.
“It’s great to see you. I didn’t think you were coming.”
My cheeks flush. Does everyone think I’m some antisocial hermit? They wouldn’t be totally off base, but I thought I was hiding it better.
“Yeah, well, Valerie came by and…” I shrug.
Becca offers a knowing smile. “Say no more, I’m plenty familiar with that.”
I chuckle. “She’s certainly a force.”
“It’s good for us. She keeps us all in line.”
I glance around. “Are you working?”
“Nah, just a social visit.”
“Me too.” I ball my hands up in my coat pockets, hoping to keep the anxious fidgeting at bay.
“I was on my way to get funnel cake if you’d like to join?”
“Sure.” I bob my head in agreement, relieved to have a direction to go in.
I feel a little like a baby bird as I follow in Becca’s wake, marveling at the way she cuts through the crowd, occasionally stopping to give someone a hug or ask them a question.
As I look around I can see the scene duplicated many times over around the room. Everybody’s so happy.
Valerie’s words ring in my ears.
People are nice here.
I rub a fist over my sternum, trying to soothe the ache that’s building.
We approach the food truck that’s parked out in the yard, and I glance around, half hoping Oscar might be here somewhere. I should make an effort after he was nice enough to invite me.
“You know what you want?” Becca asks.
“Just plain, I think?”
She places our order, brushing me aside when I go to pay. She manages to find a free space on one of the benches and we sit to eat. I have to suppress a moan when I bite into it, hot and perfectly crunchy. “That’s incredible.”
“Oh yeah, this place is the best,” she says, nodding back at the truck.
“I can’t believe I’ve never had this before.” I nod down at my plate, now half demolished.
“Not ever?” Becca looks a little horrified.
I shake my head.
“Not even at carnivals or anything when you were a kid?”
“Carnivals were never really my thing.” I pull out my phone and snap a quick picture to send to Luci. “My best friend has been trying to get me on this stuff for years. She’s gonna be so mad that she didn’t get to see it.”
Becca smiles. “She’s in Connecticut?”
“Uh huh.” I send off the picture and slip the device into my coat pocket. I grin as it starts vibrating against my hip, Luci’s trademark string of messages coming through in quick succession.
“How long did you live there?” Becca asks, “I heard someone say you grew up in Cedar Creek?”
“Yeah, until I was fourteen. Then my mom got a job out east, so I was there until a couple months ago.”
“And what brought you back?”
“Just wanted to try something new.” I give her the most watered-down possible version of the truth. “Elsie offered me the space when she decided to retire, so it seemed like the right time.”
“That’s not the story I heard,” she teases.
I roll my eyes. “What did you hear?”
“Nothing serious.” She stretches her hand across the table to give mine a pat. The contact almost makes me gasp and I want to flip my hand around and hang on to it for as long as possible. “Joyce was just in the diner being her usual self.”
“What did she say?” I press.
“She seemed to have the idea that you rolled into town and wrote Elsie a blank cheque to vacate the store.”
I have to laugh at that. “If I had ‘blank cheque’ money, I would be living in a much nicer apartment.”
“I figured.”
“What about you?” I ask. “How long have you lived here?”
“It’ll be six years in August. I’m from Denver originally.”
“Oh, cool. I’m actually headed to Denver the week after next.”
“What for?”
“I’m running a stand at a yarn fair.”
“That sounds fun.”
“Yeah.” I nod awkwardly. I’m not so good at small talk, but Becca’s so warm that it feels like it’s going well. I hope. “What made you want to come down here?”
“I’ve always wanted my own place. I went to culinary school in the city and worked in a few different restaurants, but that whole scene wasn’t really me, you know?”
“I get that.”
“The diner is perfect. I like that it’s more casual. I have my regulars, I can do things my own way.”
“It’s so great there.” I smile and her eyes glow with delight.
“Thank you,” she says sincerely. “How have you found opening your place?”
I’m about to reply when something catches my eye from behind Becca’s head.
It’s strange how easily I recognize the set of his shoulders, the particular way he holds himself as he helps a little boy into a pair of fireproof pants. The kid squeals with laughter as he finds out how heavy they are and I can feel my cheeks twitching, my smile creeping up to mirror Oscar’s.
Becca chuckles. “What’s that face for?”
My smile drops. “Nothing.”
She takes a peek, catching Oscar’s back as he heads inside. “Ahh,” she says, smirking. “So, what’s going on there?”
“Nothing,” I splutter.
“You sure?”
“We’re just friends. I mean, kind of. We hardly know each other.” Though he seems to know a lot about me. I don’t know how it’s possible that I don’t remember him, especially when he’s made such a strong impression now.
“If you say so.” She takes a slow bite of her funnel cake, her eyes never leaving mine.
“He’s nice. He brought me a flyer the other day.” I motion toward the large-scale ones tacked onto the sides of wheelbarrows and wooden A-frames.
She finishes her mouthful, her brow furrowed in thought. “Isn’t he too busy for that kinda thing?”
“How do you mean?”
She wipes her hand on a paper napkin and tosses it into the garbage bin next to the table. “He didn’t come into the diner.”
I frown, staring down at the dregs of my funnel cake.
My appetite’s gone all of a sudden. After everything with Aaron, the thought of a man being interested in me in any capacity raises my hackles. I’d like to think I wouldn’t fall prey to a situation like that again, but how can I be sure?
How can I ever trust my own judgment again?