33. Rose
rose
“I can’t believe you scored that vintage gold Pyrex dish.
What a find.” I am upbeat and cheerful. Totally casual and fun.
It’s been a long time since I had a chance to make a new friend and I’m not going to mess it up just because my life feels like a rope bridge over a ravine and slats are falling away beneath my feet.
I also spotted one of the same metal donkeys that I moved from my living room to the garage with a tag on it that said fifteen dollars. I don’t think my mom would be too thrilled to hear her art pieces haven’t appreciated in value.
“Sometimes we get lucky, right?” Cassie slides into the booth across from me at Delish. We opted for casual, and the diner’s the best at that. It doesn’t hurt that I could use a platter of salty fries right about now.
Amy walks over to take our orders. Her style is always top-notch. Wide-legged pants and a flowy, navy blouse with just enough ruffle at the edge to make it chic. Like a mom in a modern TV show. Which is probably not something I should ever actually tell her.
Nobody who’s not a mom wants to hear that they look like one.
“Cassie, have you met Amy Ellison yet?” I ask.
Cassie shakes her head. “I’ve been in a couple of times, but we haven’t met.”
“Amy, this is Cassie, the new wedding coordinator over at Moonlight Lodge. She just moved down from Portland about a month ago.”
Amy’s eyes light up like I knew they would. She and the McBride and Irwin women are pretty much the welcome wagon around here, ready to get newcomers plugged into local life. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Cassie. How do you like it over at the Lodge?”
“It’s a dream location, truly.” She pushes her wavy blond bob behind both ears. “This was just the change I needed.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Charlie Callahan told me how grateful they are to have you managing the weddings now. She said she was going a little crazy trying to do it on her own.”
“Not to brag, but I am a certified Bridezilla handler.”
Amy laughs and takes our orders. “If you need anything, just stop in and ask. I hope to see you around.”
She walks through the diner, checking on customers as she goes.
“Amy’s wife, Jodi, runs the kitchen,” I tell Cassie. “She’s always coming up with new items for the menu. She could have been a chef in some big city, but instead, she blesses Sunshine with her culinary creativity.”
Actually, Jodi used to be a mail carrier before she and Amy opened the diner. Being a cook seems like more of a second-stage chapter than a lifelong dream, but my point stands. The woman makes good food.
“Mm-hmm.” Cassie’s got her mouth tugged to one side as if I’m spreading lies.
“It’s true.” Which is also what a liar would say, but I don’t know what my motivation would be to lie about the diner’s excellent cook. “Everything she makes is delicious.”
Except for the fried pickles, which I forgive her for on principle.
“I believe you about the food.” She leans over the table. “We don’t know each other well, so you can tell me to shove it. But is everything okay with you?”
“What? Of course.” My forced laughter probably isn’t super reassuring.
Her skeptical expression only deepens. “You look like a bride who just walked in on her groom-to-be getting it on with a bridesmaid.”
My fake smile dissolves into a cringe. “You’ve seen that?”
“Four times. I’ve also had two brides left at the altar, one jilted groom, and one very memorable wedding where the brother of the groom stood up and declared his love for the bride. She did not reciprocate.” Cassie tsks. “I hate to imagine that family’s holidays.”
“I didn’t know coordinating weddings could be that depressing.”
“Truly. But back to you.” She reaches across the table to give my hand a quick, gentle squeeze. “I might be overstepping. Totally my thing. But I feel like we’re becoming friends. If you need to talk, I’m here for you.”
I can imagine how vehemently my mother would advise me not to emotionally dump on a potential new friend. That’s not very “agreeable and polite” of me. But Cassie’s asking. And I could really use a listening ear right now.
So I tell her everything. Her eyebrows lift to her hairline when I explain about my dating arrangement with Reed. Her gaze grows soft as I tell her how hard I’ve fallen for him. And her expression becomes shrewd when I relay how I’ve learned I might lose my job at the coffee shop.
Basically, I stuffed my emotions in a blender and hit purée without putting the lid on, and Cassie’s in the blast zone.
“What are you afraid of right now?” she asks as she finishes off her loaded salad.
I’ve babbled through our entire meal. I’m working on my second order of fries and my third tiny tub of ranch. If I’m going to eat my feelings, they’re going to be covered in dressing.
“I might be out of a job soon.” I’ve cycled through jobs that didn’t waste time in replacing me—I should have known better than to get so attached to this one.
But I’ve poured so much love, time, and energy into that coffee shop, I hate the thought of losing it.
“I will be stupidly heartbroken if he sells the coffee shop.”
“Is that really what you’re scared of?”
My shoulders slump as if my fears are resting on them.
“No. I care about Reed so much. But I’ve been dumped out of the blue a lot.
I literally never see it coming. I hope too much and do too much, and then it all ends in a snap.
And with Reed, I could lose so much more than I ever have before.
Like…everything. Selling the shop would be an easy way to cut me loose, too. What if I’m wrong about him?”
I’ve misjudged romantic situations with less on the line.
Now, it’s my whole heart that’s sitting on the tracks, waiting to see if the Breakup Express is coming for me.
Those fears have less to do with the offer he received today and more to do with my mom’s “encouragement,” but those worries are all tangled together now.
Cassie sits straighter, leveling me with a firm gaze. “If you’re wrong about him, and he breaks up with you, then you’ll pick yourself up and move on. You’re strong, and I can tell you’re an amazing person. You’ll get through it. And you will find someone else.”
Okay, not really what I was hoping to hear but…it’s surprisingly reassuring. I’ve done it before. It doesn’t feel the same this time around, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to handle it if all my worst fears come true.
“But I have some experience with being wrong about someone.” Cassie slides her empty plate to the edge of the table and takes a sip of her Dr. Pepper. “My ex-husband was pretty good at hiding his red flags, but the signs were there. Does Reed ignore what you want so he can have his own way?”
“No. He tells me all the time that what I want is important. He’s made it a point that I need to do more of what I want.” He’s achingly supportive that way.
“Does he talk over you when you try to open up, making everything about him?”
He gives me his whole attention when I talk. “He’s a really good listener.”
“Does he criticize you in small ways so if you point it out, he can say it was all in your head?”
“No.” The closest he’s been to criticizing me is telling me I could do anything I wanted to for work. I’m not entirely sure that counts. “He’s really positive and encouraging.”
Cassie narrows her eyes. “Does he tell you to grow up when you sing in the kitchen?”
I wrinkle my nose. “No, and if these are all first-hand experiences, I think I hate your ex-husband.”
“Me, too. But from what I hear, it doesn’t sound like Reed is trying to manipulate or deceive you. Fake dating notwithstanding. By the way, we’re going to need to exchange book lists because it sounds like your romcom reading is peak.”
I laugh at that. Accurate.
“I didn’t actually plan it.” I just went along with it and took it to the natural outcome: falling madly in love with my fake boyfriend.
“Obviously, I don’t know him at all,” she goes on. “But he sounds like a good man. One who really cares about you. And for what it’s worth, he couldn’t take his eyes off you that day at the library.”
My cheeks immediately heat as if I didn’t just unload way more personal details on her than this little tidbit. “What?”
She slow-nods. “Oh, yeah. I’m surprised he could finish the craft, his eyes were so glued to you.
He was sneaky about it, but he watched you the whole time.
It was pretty adorable.” She takes another sip of pop, her head tilted to the side.
“When I went into Perk Me Up that first day, he was doing the same thing.”
I’m definitely grinning a stupid amount. “He was probably just double-checking his drink prep.”
She gives me a “Sure, Jan” nod. “That’s probably all it was. Guys always make swoony-faces when they’re serious about work.”
I know the look she means. I’ve watched it a thousand times on that video of us they posted the first night at the coffee cart.
I’ve been afraid to follow that clue, but I’m going to put on my Sherlock hat and deduce they recorded it before we started “faking.” How long has he been watching me like that, and I had no idea?
After everything his brothers said at the cabin, I’m guessing it’s been a while.
“In spite of having to start over again at thirty-three, I still believe in love. I know there’s a good man out there for me.
One who’s loyal and stable and responsible.
Someone mature and ready for lifelong love and a family, just like I am.
” She takes my hand again, holding on this time.
“I believe there’s someone for you, too.
Maybe it’s Reed. Are you going to let your past influence your future and risk letting him go if it is? ”
“I did not expect to cry today.” I swipe beneath my eyes with my free hand. I’ve never fought for a relationship before, but I’ve never had so much to lose, either. “Do wedding coordinators serve as part-time therapists, too?”