Chapter 25 #3
“It’s not,” I assure him quickly, stepping forward until I’m in his arms. “I know this is all new, but … I’m not going anywhere, Parker.”
As the words come out of my mouth, I realize the truth behind them, a sense of relief washing over me like warm sheets from the dryer.
I’m not going anywhere.
I couldn’t see how much I don’t want to go home until I decided to stay right where I am. For the first time in weeks, everything finally feels right.
The beauty of a small town is word gets around.
Fast.
It didn’t matter that we changed the location of the last market with only a week’s notice; a few strategically placed posters and designated gossips spread the details faster than a fire in a paper factory.
By the time the vendors start arriving early Thursday afternoon, we’ll have managed to transform the yard at Salem Stables and bring my vision to life.
It’s exactly how I pictured it—and even better when I see the tents popping up around the perimeter, the vendors buzzing with excitement as they set up their wares.
I knew it looked good before, but just like with the bachelorette, seeing the people enjoying themselves is what makes me realize it’s working.
Surprisingly, I’m not itching to take my phone out and capture the moment.
I’ve held to my deal with Parker and haven’t checked my phone all day.
The nagging feeling persists at the back of my mind that the blog post could be up right now, and the Country Bumpkin’s hundreds of thousands of followers could be reading all about my epic failure and inability to run an event as I stand here, in the early hours of another one.
But I made a promise to Parker, and I intend to keep it, so I push the thought back to the back of my mind—or at least as far as my back pocket, where my phone is safely tucked away and ignored—and try to stay in the moment.
Everything might not be perfect, but so far, this event is going smoothly.
The signs I made are staked firmly in the ground at each activity station so they won’t blow away in the growing wind.
The pumpkin patch, costume runway, photo ops and marshmallow roasting are all set up, the front field designated for parking.
Parker’s busy saddling up Bailey for the horseback rides in the sand ring, so I light the fire in the pit on the lawn and arrange the roasting sticks and basket of marshmallows on the plaid blankets laid out around it on the log seating.
People will be arriving shortly, and this way, the delicious campfire smell will greet them as they do.
Booths are set up around the perimeter of the large gravel driveway, and as more people arrive, the space fills quickly.
At first, I think it only looks busier because the area isn’t as open as the baseball fields where they usually have the farmers market, but I quickly realize it’s more than that.
The side field is fuller than I expected with cars, and each vendor seems to have several families milling around their booths.
Better yet, people are buying things. They’re also snapping pictures at the photo ops like I’d hoped, and the cutout that Tabitha and Jim made for them is a hit.
There’s also a line of excited kids waiting for their turn on the horse.
I check on Parker, who gives me a wave as he leads a little girl with blonde pigtails around the ring, then head over to Tabitha’s stand.
“How’s it going over here?” I ask, pulling her attention away from Jim, who seems to be spending more time at Tabitha’s booth than his own.
“Do you see all these people?” She pulls me into a fierce hug. “You, my darling niece, are a genius!”
“This is fantastic, Sloan, really,” Jim says, flashing me a kind, grateful smile. “Far better than we would have been able to put together without your help. And looks like we got lucky with the rain holding out.”
I glance back up at the clouds I’ve been keeping an eye on all day.
With the phone ban in place, I haven’t been able to check the forecast, so I’m going with good old-fashioned meteorology.
I’ve been nervous all day, especially as the clouds turned darker, but there’s only an hour or so left before we wrap up and I think we’ll be okay until then.
“We haven’t had a turnout like this all year, not by a long shot,” Tabitha gushes, moving back towards Jim, who nods.
“Most of the vendors have already confirmed they’re coming back next year. And there’s some interest in having it here every week, now that they’ve seen what we can do.”
“Is that what you want?” I ask, surprised.
Tabitha shrugs. “I’m thinking about it. Jim said he’d help. And maybe you’d consider it too, Sloan?”
The idea sounds great—in principle. After our talk, Tabitha made it clear that I’m welcome to stay here until Christmas, like I planned, and beyond.
We didn’t make any concrete plans, and with things between Parker and me still so fresh, I was worried about jumping in too quickly and freaking him out.
He’d surprised me with his admission, though, and then again, when, instead of panicking when I made my promise to him, he looked relieved.
I’m not going anywhere.
What Tabitha’s suggesting now is more permanent than that, but it feels right, and something tells me Parker would be happy about it, too. Technically speaking, though, I’m not in a position to accept the offer. Not until I talk to Lyla.
“Would you mind watching the booth for us for a little while? Jim’s neglecting his, and I want to make sure he has a chance to sell some of his produce before we lose this crowd.”
I nod, waving them off. I’ve been buzzing around the market for over an hour, so it feels good to take a breather and be still for a bit.
But I’m not alone at the booth for long, which is set up with Tabitha’s art and my own, leftovers from the samples I made for the bachelorette and a few other signs I made in preparation for today.
Sharp laughter drifts closer and I turn to see a pair of women approaching me, their eyes on the table.
I don’t interrupt their easy conversation as they inspect Tabitha’s pieces on display.
They appear to be in their fifties; their hair is slightly graying at the temples, and they have laugh lines around their bright eyes.
“Diane, look at this,” the brunette says, holding up one of my signs.
Smiling politely, I try to catch a glimpse of which one has caught her eye.
Oh my god.
“Oh—uh…” Words fail me, and I can’t think of a valid reason to rip it out of her hands.
The second woman moves closer, leaning in to read it out loud. “I might be bad with directions, but at least … oh!” The two share a surprised look—and then burst out laughing, clutching each other’s arms as they double over.
I smile awkwardly, cheeks flaming. “I’m so sorry, that’s not supposed to be there. I don’t know how that got in there.”
I know exactly how it got there, though. This is Parker’s doing. Why won’t she put it down so I can hide it before anyone else sees it?
“How much?” asks the one still holding it up, wiping a tear away.
My mouth falls open. “You … you want to buy it? That one?”
Before I can question her again, she’s pressing a twenty into my hand and asking if it’s enough.
I’m almost too stunned to answer, but somehow manage a jerky nod.
Their laughter carries as they wander off and I stand there, staring at the money in my hand.
But it’s Parker’s face I see. His eager eyes as he told me I could do this, that someone would want to buy this.
Though I’m reluctant to admit it, as much as I tried not to let him in, he seems to know me better than I ever wanted him to. And I don’t hate the feeling.
In fact, I love him for it.
It hits me like a sucker punch to the heart, bubbling inside me to the point where I feel I’m about to overflow.
I’ve never fallen for someone so fast before, and though the physical chemistry between us is undeniable at this point, I know it’s so much more than that.
My feelings for him run deeper than I ever expected them to.
Suddenly, I’m not on the fence about staying anymore—I’m firmly on one side.
This side. The one where I stay put at Tabitha’s, the place where I’ve finally been able to stretch my legs and start running events, even if they’re not the kind I used to picture myself running with Lyla.
Staying here to keep trying to get something going on my own feels like the right place for me, even more so—but not only—because of Parker.
Which means that I need to call Lyla. I have to explain the situation to her and hope that she’ll understand that this is the right decision for me, even if it’s not the one she wants to hear.
And I can’t wait until she calls with an update about Adam.
He’s not guaranteed to get that job, so part of me knows that I could wait and see what happens.
If he doesn’t get it, I won’t have to have this conversation at all, and I wouldn’t be risking hurting my best friend’s feelings.
But Parker’s right—being honest with Lyla is more important than making her happy.
I have to trust her not to hold this against me, to be the friend that I know she is.
Across the yard, Parker’s helping a little boy down from the saddle, and a swell of hope that I haven’t felt in a long time rises inside my chest—like I’m finally doing something right.
I turn my back, pulling my phone out of my pocket, knowing full well that I’m breaking the rules of my deal with Parker. But even he would agree it’s for a good reason, and it can’t wait until Lyla calls me. Luckily, she answers quickly.
“Don’t you have your hands full with the market right now?” she says after a quick hello, but she doesn’t wait for an answer. “Whatever—I’m glad you called, because I have news. Adam got the job!”
I still, but the roller coaster in my stomach doubles in speed. Oh no. I should have called sooner. I do my best to sound cheerful.
“Wow … you must both be so relieved.”
“You have no idea.”
She sounds happy, but there’s a heaviness to her words that makes the joy feel forced, somehow. But I can’t dwell on that when I still have to be honest with her about my secret.
“I guess this means you’re moving, right? So … we should probably talk about what happens next—”
“I can’t do it!” Lyla shouts. “I’m sorry, Sloan, I can’t do this to our friendship.”
“Slow down—what are you talking about?”
Lyla breathes a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I should have been honest with you sooner.
When we couldn’t open, I kept waiting to get sad, but honestly?
All I’ve felt this whole time is relief.
The idea of moving to New York was scary at first. I’ve never been away from my family.
But I’ve found myself wishing for it anyway.
I need a break from being the one everyone depends on. ”
“Have I been stressing you out?”
“No, the opposite!” she says. “You’ve kept me sane these last few weeks.
But if we spent every day together, I worry that might change.
I take charge by default, and you let other people make decisions for you.
You don’t need that from me, and I worry that changing our dynamic would affect our relationship like it has with my siblings. ”
“Where is this coming from, Lyla?”
She lets out a heavy sigh. “Something is going on with Billie, but she won’t talk to me. When I tried to get her to open up, she said I don’t get to be her parent and her sister. I’m about to rebuild my entire life in a new city; I need to know my best friend is going to be there when I need her.”
My shoulders dip, the anger leaving as quickly as it came. “How long have you been feeling this way? Since Adam got laid off, or before?”
She’s quiet for a beat. “Before. I’m so sorry, Sloan. I wanted to tell you weeks ago, as soon as I realized I was relieved we didn’t get the shop. But you’ve had so much going on, and I didn’t want to pile on. I never meant to change the plan like this.”
“Change isn’t always a bad thing. It does sound like I’ve been stressed for nothing about deciding to stay, though.”
“Wait, you’re staying at Salem Stables? As in … permanently?”
“Tabitha wants me to help out with some things, and … Parker and I have started something.”
She pauses. “Are you staying for you, or for him?”
I almost give her a hard time trying to parent me right now, but I know she can’t help it.
It’s who she is. It also makes me see she probably has a point about us spending every day together.
I can roll my eyes lovingly at her now, but maybe I would start to tire of her making all the decisions.
Especially now that I’ve seen how much fun it is to plan events.
“For me,” I tell her, then, more firmly, “I’m doing this for me, Lyla, I swear.”
She sounds unconvinced. “There isn’t a teeny tiny part of you that’s hiding?”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw your Instagram post. And I saw right through it. You were trying to make Caleb jealous.”
I groan. His name smacks me like a sucker punch to the gut, and it takes my brain a few seconds to catch up. It feels like months, not weeks, since I posted that picture. “That was a stupid mistake. It didn’t mean anything.”
“Really? Because when he broke up with you, you couldn’t get to Salem Stables fast enough.
Now, it seems like you might be throwing yourself into another relationship with someone you actively hated a few weeks ago …
are you sure this isn’t a distraction? I’m worried you might be looking for reasons to stay. ”
“I’m not looking for anything,” I assure her. “I was always coming home, Lyla.”
“So, you making Caleb jealous means—”
“Nothing!” I throw some extra conviction into my voice. “He doesn’t mean anything to me anymore. Like I said, it was a stupid mistake. I wasn’t thinking clearly, but I am now.”
“If you say so. What does Parker have to say about you staying?”
I chew my bottom lip, nerves fluttering in my belly. “Parker doesn’t know yet. Obviously, I never expected anything to happen, and I was never planning to stay longer than a few months.”
“By all means, feel free to fill me in.”
Parker's voice startles me, and I turn to find him standing a few feet behind me, a hard scowl painted on his face.