Chapter 38
Stevie
The meeting is over. I lost the bet spectacularly.
Now, I have to face the crowd waiting outside the town office building. I see them through the glass, loitering in the rainy parking lot and awaiting the verdict like this is a landmark court case and not a silly town bet involving Bigfoot.
“Ready for this?” Adam asks. He has barely let go of my hand tonight, and I don’t mind. Public Boyfriend Adam makes my heart thump, especially in that T-shirt.
But I’m not ready. I should make Ike announce the outcome of the bet to this crowd.
He’s the one who made it town business. He should have to break the news.
The way he lingered in his office with Diana makes me suspect he left it to me on purpose, like admitting my failure in front of a horde of angry villagers will build my character.
I’m sure he’s right. Or he’s waiting for everyone to leave so he can make out with his wife in his office, the weirdo.
Either way I can do this. After all of this practice I’m getting better at admitting I was wrong. I lost. I failed. I—
Adam nudges my elbow with his.
“Mm-hmm,” I lie, pushing through the exit door into the misty parking lot. The crowd closes in. I’m glad the rain held off for their little press conference.
“Well?” Mary Beth Hanks asks. “What’s the decision?” It’s like she’s pushing an invisible microphone in my face.
Everyone falls silent, waiting.
Adam’s hand tightens around mine. I squeeze back. We’re a team, and I love that feeling.
“Well . . .” I sigh. “Adam is my boyfriend. I lost. You guys won—”
The crowd cheers. They don’t let me finish my concession speech. People are clapping each other on the back. High-fiving. Making phone calls and saying things like, “Book the tickets, honey.”
What is happening?
You’d think I announced the fall of an oppressive dictatorship. A lot of people in Cape Georgeana are excited to win ten dollars in a bet.
“These people are crazy,” Ruth says with laughter in her eyes. “I love this town.”
“It’s growing on me.” Adam shakes his head at the dispersing villagers. “We parked over here.” He motions to our right.
“I’m over there.” My car is on the opposite side of the lot. I don’t want to let him go, though.
Adam kicks a loose pebble.
“Well . . .”
Like she knows we’re stalling, Sammie starts whining on her mom’s hip.
“I’m going to load her up,” Ruth says. “No hurry, you two.” She winks at me as she takes Adam’s keys.
“What’re you doing tonight?” Adam asks after she walks away. His gaze darts from my eyes to my hair to my mouth and back.
My face warms. “I should record the last episode of my podcast . . .” But I’d put it off if he invited me to do literally anything.
“Okay.” He frowns. “My sister is only here until tomorrow—”
He’s cut off by Sammie screaming his name from the direction of his truck. “Unkie Adammmmm!” she wails.
Adam’s chest rises and falls. He purses his lips.
“You should go. Sounds like she needs you.” I bite my lip. “Can I see you tomorrow night?”
He nods, ducking to press an urgent kiss to my lips. When someone catcalls from a few parking spaces away, Adam pulls back, blushing furiously. “This town,” he grumbles.
I shrug.
He doesn’t walk away. His dark chocolate eyes peer down at mine like he has a hundred things to say.
“Okay.” He growls, then mutters to himself, “It’s getting harder and harder to walk away from you.”
“Then stop doing it.” I pop onto my tiptoes, giving him one last kiss before I spin on my heel. If I don’t leave now, I never will. I call over my shoulder, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Fifteen minutes later I throw my car into park in my driveway.
I stopped at the market for a few groceries and a fresh box of consolation Lucky Charms. Adam needs to spend time with his sister, and I need to record the final episode of my flash-in-the-pan podcast. We can see each other tomorrow night.
I’ll be okay. I’ve been repeating this to myself—all through the market and on my drive home.
Maybe I’ll sit on my porch steps and gather my thoughts. The sun is starting to peek through again, just in time for sunset. It’s a nice evening. I told myself I’d record the podcast when I got home, but if I’m not inside, I’m not home.
I’m dragging my feet literally and figuratively as I walk toward my front door. It’s one thing to admit I was wrong at a conference table of friends. Recording the words in my own voice and sending them to a mass audience is something else. I need to practice.
I recite my formal announcement as I make my way up the walk. “I was wrong about my Bigfoot sighting,” I mouth. “I fell in love with the guy I mistook for Bigfoot. I lost.”
Huh.
“I lost.” I say the new-to-me words again, out loud this time. I’m pleasantly surprised when they don't make me sad. It’s hard to feel like I’ve lost when I came away from this mess with a guy like Adam. Maybe this won’t be so bad.
“Stevie?” a male voice comes out of nowhere.
“Gah!” I fling my arms out in a hasty imitation of a karate chop. My grocery bags land on the wet concrete, and my keys fly into the bushes.
Adam is sitting in the shade of my front porch, his arms flung over his knees. He’s still wearing the T-shirt I gave him. Gosh, I love looking at him.
“Sorry I startled you.” He stands, fighting a smile. “I thought you saw me.”
I shake my head. I wonder how much of my podcast rehearsal he heard. “I thought you took Ruth and Sammie home?”
He shakes his head. “When I told her what you were doing, I realized I couldn’t let you do it alone.” He stands, scooping up my groceries. “She dropped me off a few minutes ago.” Handing me my bags, he pokes through the landscaping, presumably in search of my keys.
“Adam?”
“Hmm?” He straightens, dropping my keys in my free hand.
I take in all of him, from the wave of dark brown hair on his forehead to the Bigfoot T-shirt, down to his jeans with a fleck of mud on the hem. Always muddy. I can’t quite say the thing I want to say. “Want to come inside?”
“I do.”
He waits patiently while I unlock my front door and drop my grocery bags on the sideboard. Once my hands are free, he stalks toward me, tall and dark.
I snicker, waving my fingers over his mysterious, looming stature. “You have such a sexy-sasquatch thing going on.”
He growls. Snatching my hand, he tugs me against his chest, sliding his other hand up my back. “Please never say that again,” he murmurs with laughter in his voice. He smooths a hand over my ponytail, peering down into my eyes. “Stevie?”
It’s hard to breathe when he looks at me like that. “Yeah?”
“Can I—Can I help you with your recording?”
I narrow my eyes at Adam. That isn’t what he was going to say, but I’m also not going to turn down this opportunity. This will tie up my podcast with a nice bow. I grin. “I’d love that.”
A few minutes later, I have my computer and microphone set up on my dining room table.
“You’re high tech,” Adam says with a nod to my setup.
I scrunch my face. This is about as basic as a person can get for something like this, but it got the job done on a teacher’s salary. “I usually use this stuff for recording my choir students, but it works.” I shrug.
“That’s cool.” He looks around. “Where do you want me?”
“Right next to me.” From now on, please and thank you.
I pull out a few chairs, give him a few simple instructions, and we’re rolling.
I’m going to try to knock this out in one take, as candid and genuine as possible.
That was a theme in a lot of the positive notes left on my podcast—my listeners appreciate my authenticity. Well, I’m about to be as real as ever.
“What do I say?” Adam asks in a rush.
“Just follow my lead and act natural.”
I press record.
“Hi, Squatch Watchers.” I smile, even though no one can see it.
I can’t help myself now that I have Adam beside me for a recording, plus I truly enjoy doing this.
I’m not sure I’ll be able to give it up.
I hope I don’t lose all of my listeners after I confess.
“I snagged a very special guest for you today. He’s tall, dark, and he’s always been a bit of an enigma. He lives in the woods—”
Adam turns to face me, worry in his eyes. Where are you going with this, woman? his eyes ask.
You’ll see, my eyes say back.
Adam pulls his hand through his hair, fidgeting in his seat.
“He’s hairy, bipedal, and his feet are huge.”
Adam snorts.
My voice turns soft and gooey. I can’t help it. “He’s shy in the most charming way.”
Now he’s blushing against his white T-shirt, and I want to wrap this up expeditiously.
“Stevie.”
The warning in Adam’s voice makes me giggle. I want to push stop, but I’m determined to get this in one take. My authentic giggle has to stay, unfortunately.
“My special guest is none other than the man himself, Adam Sandoval, stewardship manager for the Biddeford Land Trust.” I’ll insert some canned applause here. He deserves it.
He leans into the microphone. “Hi.”
Oh, he’s so adorably awkward. I think I’ll keep him. “So, Adam. What size are your feet, anyway?”
He sighs. “Fourteen.”
“Wow.” I whistle. “That’s a big foot.”
Adam groans. Then the groan turns into a chuckle, then a full laugh.
“There he is.” I grin, sliding my arm through his. “I brought Adam on the show today because while he was out there working to maintain trails and preserve the woods we love, I started this podcast and put his picture on a T-shirt.”
“You also dated half of York County.” Adam teases with a shake of his head.
“And yet!” I defend myself. “And yet I still managed to fall in love with you.”
“I’m still falling in love with you—more and more every minute,” he murmurs, leaning closer. His eyes are zeroed in on my lips.
I hold him back, though my pulse is thrumming. “Not until we’re done recording, Adam.” I pretend to be appalled: “He’s trying to kiss me, you guys.” They’re going to eat this up. “I have more to say, though.”
Then I confess to everything—being wrong about my sighting, falling for Adam, and seeing him in secret. I apologize. I thank my listeners. I ask for their forgiveness. I wring myself out until I don’t have a shred of pride left. Strangely, I feel rejuvenated instead of torn down when I’m done.
Adam watches me, his gaze warm and content. He smiles, mouthing, “I love you.”
I mouth, “I love you, too.”
I can’t believe I finally cleared the air. It’s done. We’re liberated from the bet and from hiding. A long, free summer stretches ahead of us.
Straightening, I pull out my phone. “Okay, now that that’s done, on to the new evidence.”
Adam draws back, his eyes full of fresh worry and a touch of amusement. “You think you’ve found new evidence of Bigfoot?” he asks skeptically, but growing more at ease. It’s easy to forget that we’re talking to a few thousand people when we’re alone at my dining room table.
“I don’t think. I know.” I swipe to open the recording, holding the speaker close to the microphone before I hit play. I can splice this in later if the mic doesn’t pick it up well. I mostly need Adam’s reaction. “I picked this up during my most recent tour in the preserve—”
“When you got lost,” Adam butts in.
I swat his shoulder. “Shh. Pay attention.” I restart the recording.
He listens quietly, nodding.
I press stop. “Well?”
“I have some bad news, beautiful.” He slides his hand around my neck, burying his fingers in my hair. “That . . . was a red fox. What it’s doing is called a vixen scream.”
“No way.” I want to argue with him, but I can’t when he’s looking at me with those dark eyes.
“Way.” He winces apologetically.
“But—”
He turns to the microphone. “I’m going to kiss Stevie now,” he tells my listeners.
“You are?” I bite my lip.
He visibly swallows. “Mm-hmm.”
Then he does.