8. Gabby
Heath shakes my hand, and it feels . . . wrong. I woke up this morning determined to make things, not right, but better. I didn’t want to go to his birthday party this weekend with things still so awkward between us.
I watch as Heath turns and walks back into the building. I thought coming to an agreement would be easy—the best thing for everyone—but it feels like my heart just took on another bruise.
Standing, I walk back to the Coffee Loft where I’d left my car. Peeking through the window, I see Ashlan is busy with a line of customers, so I decide to go to Anne’s. Even if she’s busy today, I can sit in an empty salon chair and make small talk.
I pull behind Master Cuts and park next to Anne’s pink VW Bug. She put eyelashes on it recently, claiming that the looks she got driving around town were totally worth the forty dollars she spent. She’s unique and not afraid to be herself. It’s one of the things I love about her. I’ve grown closer to her since she came back to Piney Brook and took over the salon. She was one of the more popular girls in high school who had big dreams of leaving Piney Brook, whereas I couldn’t imagine leaving.
I walk around to the front of the salon and open the door. A jingling bell announces my arrival, and Anne turns to the front door with a comb in her hand. “Be right with . . . Oh! Gabby, hey girl. I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”
I smile at Mrs. Govney, who’s currently sitting in Anne’s chair. “Mind if I sit and watch a while?”
Mrs. Govney, a former high school History teacher, just turns back in her seat. “Suit yourself, dear.”
She always has been a grouchy one.
“Have a seat,” Anne says, using the comb to point to the empty salon chair beside her. “Mrs. Govney is my last client for the morning. Then I was going to head to Daisy’s for lunch. Want to join me?”
I sit in the chair, careful to hold one foot in place so I don’t spin in a circle and fall flat on my bottom. “Sure, that’d be great.”
I glance at Mrs. Govney and try not to laugh. In high school, the kids called her Elvira behind her back because she always had big hair and lots of makeup, including her signature red lipstick. Not much has changed.
“When I was your age,” Mrs. G starts. “I was married and working a real job. When are you going to make your grandma proud and stop waiting tables at that diner?”
My face flushes, and my throat tightens. “I like what I do,” I say, holding back tears. Gram had always said to follow my heart. That there was nothing wrong with doing what you enjoy. I’d never really considered doing anything else. I make enough at Beats and Eats to pay the bills, and Gram’s house was paid off when she left it to me. Taxes aren’t terrible. “I suppose if I change my mind, I’ll find something else to do.”
Mrs. Govney huffs.
“You’re all set to sit under the dryer now,” Anne says, closing the last curler. “I’ll help you get situated. Would you like some water?” She winks at me and smiles.
“Yes, please,” Mrs. G. says. “That dryer makes me parched.”
Anne nods. “Right this way.”
A few minutes later, Mrs. Govney is under the dryer with her glass of water, and Anne is cleaning up her station.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I say, grabbing a broom and sweeping the little bits of hair from her station.
“You’re fine. Mrs. Govney’s just . . . well, Mrs. Govney. Old stickler won’t even let me call her by her first name, and I’ve been doing her hair for months.”
My eyes go wide. “I didn’t even know she had a first name,” I whisper.
Anne laughs. “She does. It’s Gertrude.”
I slap my hand over my mouth in an effort not to laugh. “Gertrude Govney?” I ask quietly. No wonder she’s grumpy.
“I know, right! Apparently, it’s a family name.” Anne grins. “I tried calling her Gertie one time. She called my aunt and threatened to never come to Master Cuts again.”
“Oh my.”
Twenty minutes later, Mrs. G’s hair is to her liking, and we are headed to the diner for some lunch. I sit in the passenger seat of Anne’s ridiculous car. She’s got fluffy pink seat covers with big red lips all over them, a dancing flower attached to the dash, and the eyelashes that flutter in the wind. It’s a spectacle, and she seems right at home.
“I’m starving,” she says, pulling the car into the parking lot.
“Me too,” I say, realizing how true that is.
Once we are seated at a table, and have given Patty our order, Anne clasps her hands together on the table in front of her. “So, what’s up?”
“Nothing, just had the morning off and decided to stop in and see how you were doing.”
She takes a sip of the coke that Patty dropped off. “Okay. We covered that yesterday. Not much has changed on my end,” she says, waiting me out.
“So, are you going to give out candy at Halloween?” I ask, hoping to move the conversation to a more comfortable topic than the one I’m determined to avoid.
She shakes her head. “Not many trick or treaters come to my apartment. I usually skip it and eat pizza and watch scary movies instead. Why are you asking me about Halloween? That’s more than a month away.”
“It was one of Gram’s favorite holidays. She loved passing out candy and seeing all the kids dressed up.” I sigh. “I guess I’m just missing her. I could really use her advice these days.”
Patty stops at the table, a tray with our food balanced perfectly on her arm. “A club sandwich, fries, and a side of ranch,” she says, handing me my order. “And a BLT with a side of onion rings.” She puts Anne’s plate in front of her. “Don’t look now,” she whispers, “but there’s a trio of brothers that just walked in.” She fans herself with her free hand. “I don’t think they’re from around here. I haven’t seen them before,” she says with a wink. “I’d for sure remember them.”
Anne chews her bite of food and looks over her shoulder to where Patty had motioned with her head. She spins back around, fanning her flushed face. “Oh my,” she says, taking a sip of her pop.
“Told ya,” Patty says, bumping her hip against the table before walking over to the trio of men and taking out her order pad.
“They do look like brothers, triplets maybe,” I say while dipping a fry in ranch dressing. They’re handsome in that city boy kind of way, but I don’t feel a spark.
“I wonder what they’re doing in town.” Anne says, glancing back over her shoulder.
I shrug. “Who knows.”
We finish off our lunch, taking turns guessing where the guys are from and what they’re doing in Piney Brook. Anne looks at her watch. “Sorry, I’ve got to get back.”
“No problem, it’s almost time to get ready for my shift, anyway.”
We pay the bill, and I tell Patty I’ll be back in a bit to relieve her. I glance one more time over my shoulder at the men, hoping for a spark of interest. Something to make me believe I have moved on from Heath.
Heath’s mom rented the multipurpose room at the church for his party. I glance at the time on my phone before stepping out of the car and smoothing down my dress. Thank goodness we don’t get cold weather until the end of October. I can still wear the cute dress with the butterfly sleeves I got last summer. Today I decided to wear a pair of gold sandals, not the most comfortable shoes I own, but they look great with this sundress. Not that I’m trying to impress anyone. That would be silly. This just happens to be the most comfortable outfit I could find.
I nod my head firmly to reinforce that thought before opening the back door and grabbing the gift bag I brought. Nothing special. The aftershave Heath used to like, a book I thought he might enjoy, and a gift card to the Coffee Loft. Totally friendly gift.
Shutting the door, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and head for the entryway. The guests are all supposed to be arriving now, and Rosie will bring Heath in about thirty minutes.
I step inside the room and look around. Orange and green streamers dangle from the ceiling along the walls. A “Happy Birthday” sign is pinned up above six-foot tables that have been pushed together to hold cake and finger foods. There’s a smaller round table with a bucket of ice, cups, sweet tea and lemonade off to the side. I glance around and spot the gift table. I head there first and drop off the gift bag before beelining it to the sweet tea.
I grab a cup, and write my name on it with a sharpie before adding ice and filling her up with the sweetest sweet tea this side of the Mississippi. Ms. Daisy made up gallons of the stuff, just for today. I turn to step back from the table and spot them. Olivia and Zade. They are standing with a tall man, definitely military. Zade is pulling on his mom’s arm and pointing to the lemonade.
I move quickly away from the table. I may be starting to believe Zade’s not his, and he was just helping out a friend, but I can’t help the sting of jealousy that passes through my heart. He’d given us up to protect her. I can’t blame him. Not really. After his dad abandoned them, Heath developed a bit of a helper complex. He was always the one to step in for his mom, and others in the community. It’s one of the things I love about him. No—loved. Past tense.
“Hey! Fancy seeing you here,” Evan says, guiding Karlee over to stand by me. “I figured you would be working.”
I smile and step into Karlee’s hug. She’s a hugger, that one. “Nope. I have the weekend off.”
“Great! You should totally come with us to Daniel and Reese’s after this. They are having a bonfire tonight,” Karlee says. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week.” She leans into Evan and he drops a kiss on the top of her head.
“I couldn’t impose.” I know Daniel and Reese. It’s a small town. Not many people I don’t know, but I wouldn’t say we are friends. Not really. I tend to keep to myself. My small group of people is all I need.
“You wouldn’t be,” Evan says. “It’s a casual thing. The kids will roast s’mores. The more adults for that the merrier. You wouldn’t believe how messy kids can get with those things.”
I laugh. “I remember them being pretty messy. I’ll think about it, okay?” Not really, I’ve thought about it. I’ll be going home, taking a bath, and getting lost in the latest cozy mystery I picked up at the grocery store this week.
“Sure,” Evan says, pulling out his phone. “They just got here. Come on, let’s get closer to the doors.”
I follow behind Karlee and Evan. The group is whispering a countdown, someone trying to coordinate the “Surprise” yell.
The doors open, Heath walks in, and everyone shouts. Zade launches himself into Heath’s arms. Heath catches him and swings him around. The pure joy on his face as he brings Zade back down the floor and hugs Olivia makes the back of my eyes sting. Deciding I can’t do this after all, I slip quietly behind the crowd and out the side door to the parking lot.
It’s clear he loves them. So much that he would pretend to be her baby’s father. So much that he would let things end with us. He could have come home on leave and told me before now. He could have said he wanted to be more than friends when I suggested it yesterday.
I’m not enough. I was never enough. Not for my mom, and not for Heath.