Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
STELLA
Saturday morning my eyes open when sunshine warms my face. Only the gossamer blinds are closed, not the blackout shades. Waking to the sun instead of an alarm is an amazing way to start the day.
When I arrived last night, I was too tired to take a bath.
With the complimentary toothbrush and paste from the front desk, I brushed my teeth, threw my dress over the back of a chair, and collapsed into bed.
My head hurt from crying during the drive to Blissful, and my eyes were dry and itchy.
I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep at all, but miraculously, I slept better than I have in weeks.
Though the bed is comfortable, I give credit to the town of Blissful.
The short drive from the Interstate to the town is barely ten minutes, but in that short time, I left behind everything that happened in Tucson.
When I reached the bed and breakfast, a single light shone above the door to welcome me in.
I stretch in bed, grateful for the silence. I have a late check out so I plan to take that bath this morning and luxuriate in laziness while listening to an audiobook.
Once I’m submerged in the water, memories from last night try to intrude, but I don’t let them. I pick at split ends as I listen, and catch myself humming Backstreet Boys.
The water cools, and my hands are now prunes. I stand out of the tub, pull the plug, and grab the towel from the rack. Too hard apparently, because the bar falls off and clatters to the tile floor.
Oops. I’ll have to let the nice lady who checked me in last night know, because no matter how I try, I can’t get it to stay.
Once dressed, I sit on the edge of the bed and allow myself to think of the pink dress posse.
They were friends with Mallory first. Of course they’d pick her in an alliance, but I hate having them think the worst of me.
No matter if they decide to believe me, I need them to know my side of the story, without pointing blame.
I pull up our defunct group chat and send a text.
STELLA: I am not in love with Caleb. I never have been. I don’t know what you heard or who you heard it from, but I’m thrilled Mallory and Caleb are getting married and would never do anything to sabotage their happiness.
I bring up Mallory’s chat and read the last few messages. This is my goodbye. It’s not what I want, but I can’t handle anymore lies or the way she avoids me now. It’s better for my mental health if I put up a strong boundary and not allow myself to wait around for her to remember my existence.
STELLA: Last night was beautiful. It was wonderful to see you. I wish you the best of everything.
I’m surprised when she responds immediately. Also nervous to read what she says.
MALLORY: It was a nice surprise to see you!
And yet it shouldn’t have been a surprise if Krystal hadn’t “lost” my RSVP. It doesn’t matter what I tell Mallory, she always believes the best of her new BFF.
MALLORY: I looked for you later and you were already gone! We need to go out and catch up. Dinner sometime?
Maybe this isn’t the end?
STELLA: Is there a night you’re free?
She hearts my response, but doesn’t give me an answer. After last night, I don’t believe she will. Definitely the end.
Nothing from Mackenzie, Sandra, or Virginia. I bury my phone at the bottom of my purse so I’m not constantly reminded of their silence.
I grab my few belongings and head to the stairs. They drop me into a gorgeous foyer, with a desk to the right. On either side is a cased opening. To the left is the dining room, to the right is a sitting room with plush couches and a huge TV on the wall. It feels like a home.
I ring the bell, and the woman I met last night comes through swinging doors behind the desk from what looks like the kitchen. When I checked in, she didn’t mention my tear streaked face, for which I was grateful. This morning she studies me, as if to see if I’ve recovered.
She takes the key from my outstretched hand.
“How was your stay?” She’s probably around my age, maybe a little older, with lovely red hair. When I was an early teen, I wanted red hair so I could look like Anne of Green Gables. Which is a very Anne-like way to think in retrospect.
“Wonderful. Thank you for letting me check in late last night.”
“Any time.” She sounds as if she means it. “Breakfast is over, but I can get you a muffin and a juice to go.”
“No, thank you. I’ll grab lunch on Second Street.”
I turn to go, then remember about the towel rod. “I broke the towel rod in the bathroom. I’m sorry. I tried to fix it, but I’m not very good with stuff like that.”
She laughs, and brushes away my concern with a wave of her hand. “No problem. Our handyman is on his way to fix the kitchen faucet. I’ll have him take a look at the towel rod while he’s here.”
“Thanks. Have a good one.”
“You, too.”
The front door is open, but the glass storm door is closed. I reach out to push through it, when I see Drew coming up the walk. He’s looking down at his phone, so he doesn’t see me.
I didn’t think about what I would do if I ran into Drew today. In the city I never run into anyone I know because there are so many people I don’t know. I was a blubbering mess last night. I can’t face him this morning.
I back up a few steps into the dining room.
Looking around, there’s no place to hide.
I turn to head to the living space so I can crouch down behind a couch, but the storm door opens and Drew’s boot falls heavily on the hardwood floor.
I plaster myself against the wall and hope he doesn’t look over his shoulder.
The front desk woman looks at me with a quirked eyebrow and a confused smile.
I put my finger to my lips, asking for her silence.
Drew comes into view. And what a view. He’s wearing a gray, long-sleeved shirt, work pants that are double-layer in the front, big work boots, and a baseball hat.
On his hips hangs a tool belt. I never knew a low-slung tool belt could look sexy.
Then I quickly reprimand myself for thinking of Drew as sexy.
Have I learned nothing from how my last crush ruined my life?
“Hey, Claudia,” Drew says.
“Hey yourself. One of our guests broke the bathroom towel holder in room five. Can I add that to your list?”
“I think I’ve fixed that towel holder three times now.”
“Then you never really fixed it.”
He chuckles. “True enough. I’ll have to replace the whole thing.”
“Do what you have to do.”
He pulls out his phone and messes around for a minute.
Claudia glances at me over Drew’s shoulder. I widen my eyes and shake my head. When she doesn’t look away, I wave my hand in what I hope gives her the message to stop staring. If he catches her looking at something behind him, he’ll investigate what she’s so interested in.
He looks up, and she tears her attention away.
“We have a towel rod in stock at the hardware store,” he says. “I’ll go get it.”
He does a half turn before Claudia reaches out and grabs his arm. I was so close to being caught. Claudia is my hero.
“Um, why don’t you fix the leaky faucet, then go pick up the towel rod. Or even better, I can send my son to grab it.”
He shrugs. “That works. I’ll get started in the kitchen. It shouldn’t take me long.”
He walks around the desk on his way to the kitchen, but stops when Claudia speaks.
“Wait, Drew.”
If he turns a little more, he'll see me. I suck in and don’t breathe.
“Do you know a woman with long, brown hair, brown eyes, maybe five feet, nine inches with heels. Looks amazing in green. Trim waist, great calves, and a glare that would melt the paint off the side of a barn?”
Claudia is no hero. She’s a back stabber. What is she playing at!? A smile dances on the edge of her lips like my life is a game to her. I send the paint melting glare in her direction, but she isn’t looking at me.
He tilts his head and laughs. “That’s oddly specific. Could be a few people. Why?”
“Your ex-wife? She had brown hair, didn’t she?”
“Technically? But she colored it blonde.”
“When was the last time you saw her? Two years ago? The color could have grown out, right?”
Drew’s shoulders drop. “Claudia, why are you asking these questions?”
“We had a guest that looked familiar to me. Just trying to figure out why.”
“Well, it wasn’t her. Quinn is never coming back to this town.”
Claudia snaps her fingers. “Quinn. That’s right. I couldn’t remember her name.”
Wait, does she think I’m his ex-wife? Mean.
“What’s going on?” Drew sounds confused, but also hurt, as if his ex-wife is a wound that has yet to heal. It makes me hate his ex-wife on his behalf.
Claudia pats his arm. “Nothing. Sorry to bring up a bad memory. Forget I said anything.”
Drew shakes his head as he walks to the kitchen.
When I’m sure he’s gone, I remove my heels and walk lightly into the foyer. “Not funny,” I tell Claudia in a whisper.
She laughs, obviously not agreeing. She also doesn’t keep her voice down. “Are you going to explain what that was all about?”
I walk backward to the entrance, keeping my eyes on the kitchen door. “I don’t want him to know I’m in town. Please don’t tell him?”
“I promise I won’t tell him.”
I don’t like the stress she puts on him, but she promised, and that’s all I care about right now. I’m more concerned with my escape.
Once outside the chill hits immediately.
Blissful is at a higher elevation than Tucson, and that means September is nippy, and not just less hot than August. I noticed the temperature difference when I pulled in last night, but I thought it would be warmer in the morning with the sun out. That was a mistaken assumption.
I leave my car where it’s parked in the lot and walk toward Second Street, the main road through town. I breathe in the clean air and lift my face to the sun. To the north, the mountains rise up behind the town. Rincon Peak is the highest point. It’s beautiful.
The first store on the corner is Blissful Clothing Co. It’s as if Blissful knows exactly what I need and provides.