Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
STELLA
Friday morning, I put out the tables and books in front of the store with hand written signs proclaiming they are free.
When Julia arrives after school with the paint, she lays out long strips of butcher paper on the floor.
She creates the cutest scene of a pumpkin patch with book pumpkins.
At the top of each, she writes the date of the store’s grand opening, the day after Thanksgiving.
We’ll let them dry overnight then hang them in the windows tomorrow morning.
Drew is busy all day and doesn’t come to help, which is for the best. My nervousness over meeting his friends makes me ramble about nothing all afternoon to Julia. At least she finds me entertaining and not annoying.
I convince her to stay for dinner, then invite her into my room when she’s done eating to help me figure out what to wear. I’ve lived in yoga pants all week. I miss my dresses. I pull a few of my favorites out of my closet and lay them on the bed.
“I want to wear my cowboy boots.” I hold them up. “Which dress do you think looks the best with them?”
She runs her hand along the different material but doesn’t pick one from the bed. Instead she pulls from the closet a pink wraparound dress with the tie on the side. I love the cut of the dress, but I rarely wear it because it’s so … pink. There’s no pattern to break up the bright color.
“You’re sure about this one?” I ask.
She nods. “It’s pretty.”
It will look good with the boots. I’ll wear my jean jacket to tone down the pinkness.
“Should I lock the door on the way out?” Julia asks. “Or leave it open for Drew?”
“If you wait until Drew gets here, we can drop you home on our way to Oak Tavern.”
She glances out the window. It’s dark so early now. I wouldn’t want to walk home, but she has yet to accept a ride every time I’ve offered. Tonight she surprises me.
“Okay,” she agrees.
When Drew knocks at my door, Julia answers. I feel like this is a date, and Julia’s playing the role of a parent.
“It’s not a date,” I whisper to myself in the bathroom mirror. “Get a grip, or you will act the fool tonight.”
When I come out, Drew stands in the middle of the living room.
His eyes widen as he looks from the top of my wavy-haired head to my boots. “You look beautiful.”
I have learned to accept compliments, but it’s hard to take them from Drew. I want them to mean more than they do.
“Thank you. We’re taking Julia home on the way.”
“No problem. You’ll have to squish in the front seat of my truck.”
I sit in the middle of the bench seat, my leg pressed up against Drew.
I hold myself ramrod straight, as if that will do any good.
He smells like a forest after rain. Who knows why that scent is intoxicating; all I know is that it is.
My thoughts are so tangled up about him it’s hard to keep my wits when he’s so close.
Drew flips his blinker to turn off the paved road onto a dirt one with deep ruts. It’s at least two miles outside of town. I had no idea Julia lived so far away. I should have insisted I drive her home every night and not let her tell me no.
“I can walk from here,” Julia says quickly.
Drew stops the truck. Julia climbs down, and I scoot over to take her spot.
“See you tomorrow,” I call after her. “Let me know if you want a ride. I can come pick you up.”
Except I’ve never seen her with a phone. Does she have a landline? Does she know the phone number to the bookstore? I should have told her I would pick her up and not put it on her to call me.
Drew doesn’t pull out until she’s gone beyond the glow of his headlights. When we’re on the main road, I look back at the dirt lane. It disappears in the dark.
“I don’t feel good about her living out there,” I say. “What if something happens?”
“None of us like it, but you can’t make someone accept help.”
“I guess not.”
“You’re doing her a lot of good. You can’t expect things to change all at once.”
I need to trust that Julia knows what’s right for her. All I can do is make sure she knows I’m here to help.
The radio plays softly and the engine rumbles. Outside is dark and cold. Inside is warm and cozy. Drew could drive right out of town, and I wouldn’t mind. I’d actually prefer it.
Too soon, he pulls into Oak Tavern’s full parking lot.
It’s a big building that reminds me of a medium sized barn, but painted dark brown instead of red.
It has a rustic, old-time feel to it. A large portico covers the front double doors.
Drew finds a stall to park in the furthest row from the building.
I don’t immediately move to exit the truck.
“It’ll be fun,” he says. “Remember, if you get stuck in conversation, just tug your ear.”
“They’ll all think I have an ear infection.”
“The perfect excuse to leave early. Wait there. I’ll open your door.”
It’s a tall truck, but I’m capable of jumping down from the running board, even in a skirt.
Drew doesn’t give me the chance. He places his hands on my waist and lifts me down.
When my feet touch the ground, his body is close to mine.
I want to lean into him and tuck my head under his chin.
It doesn’t seem to matter how close we are, I always want to get closer.
He steps back and tilts his head toward the entrance. “Ready?”
Not one single bit, but I step forward and walk with him into the building.
As soon as we’re inside, a group sitting at a large table to the left holler at Drew.
There are three men and four women. As we head in their direction, I notice that guy, Miles, sitting with a few people at a booth.
Unlike at Apple Jamboree with my family, I do not try to hide from him, but hope he won’t notice me passing. I walk as nonchalantly as possible.
Unfortunately, he does notice. His head follows me as I walk by. My cheeks heat from his attention.
When Drew and I reach the table, he introduces me around.
I really need those flashcards because I only remember two names by the time he’s done: Tom and Ginger, a married couple who work on a dude ranch just outside of the town limits.
I sit next to Ginger, Drew sits on my other side.
She strikes up a conversation about where I’m from and my plans for the store.
Then we talk about what she does at the dude ranch.
“You should come out sometime,” she says. “I can take you riding.”
“On a horse?” I have never ridden a horse before. I’ve always thought it sounded fun.
She laughs. “Of course on a horse. We don’t ride the cattle.”
When the waitress comes to our table for our drink order, I ask for Diet Coke. I’d rather have a root beer, but with everyone else ordering actual beers, it feels a little juvenile.
Ginger and I continue to talk, but then others join our conversation and my nerves kick in again. I grow quiet as jokes and laughter bounce around the table. They’re all nice. No one seems to care that I’m quiet. Eventually, my nerves calm. My muscles relax.
When the waitress comes back, I order a salad since it’s the only menu option without meat.
Last time I was out with friends and ordered a salad, Krystal mocked me and called me a rabbit.
She could have compared me to a hippopotamus or an elephant since those animals are also vegetarian, so a rabbit was mild on the scale of insults, but it’s stuck with me until now.
I expect someone to comment. But not a single person around this table cares what I eat.
It’s an illuminating moment for me, because of course they don’t care. They’re not bullies. They’re decent people. I have to stop expecting others to treat me like Krystal did. The last of my nerves dissipates. My ear is not touched once throughout the meal.
It’s an enjoyable dinner as Drew and his friends talk. I’m drawn into the conversation at times and don’t say anything stupid, nor do I ramble when asked a question.
Tom and Ginger get up to dance and a moment later, Ginger’s seat is filled by a man. His surprise appearance makes me jump, and when I recognize who it is, my body heats up.
“Hey Drew,” my book boyfriend says. “How are you?”
“Fine,” Drew says.
He turns his attention to me. “I’m Miles. You’re Stella?”
Of course he knows who I am. “Hello,” is the only word I manage. It’s a bit overwhelming talking to the character of my favorite book. He’s so handsome my hands start to sweat. This is the most nervous I’ve been all night.
“I was wondering if you’d like to dance?”
My jaw drops. Mickey—I mean, Miles—wants to dance with me?
Somehow I find my voice. “I’m a terrible dancer. I took a ballroom dance class in college, and I was always the last female picked. Those boys knew who to avoid.”
Too much information. Put a sock in it, Stella.
“That’s because they were boys,” Miles says with a sexy smirk. “You need to dance with a man.”
My laughter surprises me. That was the cheesiest line imaginable, but it works. I stand and accept his hand. With a backward glance, I grimace at Drew. He seems to be looking at my ear. My hand stays at my side. I don’t feel the need to be rescued.
I turn back to Miles. “You were warned. I’m on a sixth-grade dancing level. I can sway. That’s about it.”
“As it happens, that’s my favorite kind of dancing.”
Though still nervous, I laugh again. “Liar.”
“If you want to spice it up a bit, all you have to do is follow my lead.”
He takes my right hand in his left and places his other firmly on my hip. Mine lands on his shoulder. He pulls me closer, but not uncomfortably close. He moves us in a small and controlled sway that follows the melody instead of the faster beat of the music. It’s nice, even if I feel a bit awkward.
“I saw you in Blissful Clothing Co. weeks ago,” he says. “Since then you’ve avoided me. I’m curious why.”
Him calling me out makes my body flush hot. I’m so warm I may melt like the Wicked Witch of the West. Forget the bucket of water, it’ll be the gallon of sweat my body’s producing that will do me in.