Chapter 26
Lina had just dropped Parker back at the bookstore when Alice texted him with directions to her place. She lived in an ADU
behind her mom’s house. They worked together, they lived on the same lot. If Nola Willoughby didn’t approve of Parker Alice
probably never would, either.
“How was your ride-along?” Nola greeted him.
“Enlightening,” he said. “We need more Linas in the world.” And more Alices, too.
“There are more than you realize,” said Nola. “The unhappy few you’ve encountered don’t represent all of us. Maybe the same
applies over on your side of the fence.”
She was behind the checkout counter looking up something on her computer. He stopped and leaned an elbow on it. “As in I don’t
speak for all men?”
“You speak for all angry ones,” Nola said.
“I speak to them.”
“So we’ve heard. You know, Parker, we all have choices in life. We can either stir the pot or take it off the stove.”
He had to smile at that. “Can’t do both?”
“What do you think?”
“I think maybe I need to get out of the kitchen,” he said.
“Maybe you do,” she agreed. “I suspect a lot of what’s been going on has gotten away from you a little.”
“Maybe.”
“Have you ever heard of Goethe’s ‘The Sorcerer’s Apprentice’?”
He shook his head.
“It’s a poem about a little boy who was supposed to fetch water for his master. He animated a broom to do his work for him,
which seemed like a good idea at the time. But the broom got out of control and soon the boy had created a flood. In short,
something that seemed like a good idea got out of hand.”
Hit me over the head with a metaphor, why don’t you. “So what happened?” Parker asked.
“The wizard came home and used his powers to clean up the mess.”
“So maybe I need a wizard?” he joked.
“Maybe you are the wizard,” she said.
Before he could stop them, the words galloped right out of his mouth. “I like your daughter.” A lot.
Her hands stilled over the keyboard. She didn’t look at him. “The big, bad wolf liked Grandma, too.”
“And the beast liked Beauty,” he countered. “How would you feel about me taking her out when this is all over?”
“You should be asking Alice how she’d feel.”
“I’m going to, tonight. I’m going over for dinner.”
Nola bit down on her lower lip and nodded. Took a deep breath. “Parker, you’re a heartbreak looking for a place to land.”
“Maybe I’m just a heart looking for a place to heal,” he suggested.
“I don’t care what the books say. My daughter’s not a love hospital. You have to heal yourself.”
“I’m working on it,” he said as much for himself as her. “I guess you’re not going to give me your seal of approval.”
“I guess you’re right. Not until I see a real transformation.”
He nodded. “Fair enough. Like I said, I’m working on it.”
“Meanwhile, don’t work my daughter over.”
He had no intention of doing that. He didn’t want to hurt Alice the way he’d been hurt. He knew what that felt like. He just
wanted to hang out, build a friendship.
Okay, maybe, down the road, he wanted more. He was human, after all. And maybe Alice wanted more. Maybe she wanted some romance
IRL. Maybe she was tired of book boyfriends and wanted to see what a real man felt like. He knew he wanted to see what she
felt like.
But maybe her mom was right, and he was a heartbreak waiting to happen. Their adventure was about to come to an end. He should
leave it at that.
Then he walked into Alice’s place, smelled the meat loaf, took in the ugly old brown couch with a colorful hand-knitted blanket
thrown over the back and the vintage coffee table, the bookcase brimming with books, and the painting of flowers on one wall,
and a warm feeling planted itself in his chest. The table looked vintage and so did the tablecloth over it. It was set for
two and a little vase of dried flowers sat in the center. He felt like he’d walked onto a movie set.
Or into the pages of one of his mom’s books.
Alice had dressed up her table but kept herself casual. She was in jeans and a top and wore a blue apron sporting a shelf
of books. The caption beneath read I Have No Shelf Control.
She looked happy to see him. It was such a different expression from their first encounters. The warmth spread through his
chest. This was what something good felt like.
He handed over the flowers he’d picked up at the grocery store on his way over. It wasn’t a very original hostess gift, but she was delighted.
“Thank you, that was sweet of you,” she said.
“I can be sweet.”
A black-and-white cat strolled into the room to greet him.
“That’s Mr. Darcy,” Alice said as the cat rubbed against Parker’s leg.
“Mr. Darcy, huh?” he said, and bent to pet the cat.
“From Pride and Prejudice.”
“I saw the movie.” Luna had insisted he watch it with her. “I never could understand why what’s-her-name wanted anything to
do with the guy when he walked around with a stick up his butt all the time.”
“People change, don’t they?” Alice replied.
“Yeah, I guess they do,” he said. Maybe there was hope for the Mr. Darcys of the world.
“And yes, he wasn’t very nice in the beginning.”
“Not much of a romance hero,” Parker said.
“Not at first. But in the end, he proved his love, not by what he said, but by what he did.”
“Actions speak louder than words, huh?” Of course, they did. Which meant Parker was in trouble.
“They do. Although both are nice, aren’t they? Okay, everything’s ready,” she said. “What would you like to drink? I have
milk, but I also bought some beer.”
He spotted a chocolate cake on the little kitchen’s counter. “Milk. It goes great with chocolate cake,” he said. “And that
cake looks awesome.”
“I like to cook.” She motioned to the table. “Go ahead, sit down.”
“The blanket on the couch, did you make that?” he asked as he settled at the table.
“No, one of my grandmas did. It has a lot of sentimental value.” She pulled a loaf pan out of the oven and began to slice up the meat loaf.
“That smells good,” he said. Actually, it smelled amazing and made him feel like he was a kid again, getting ready to dig
into his mother’s meat loaf after coming home from baseball practice.
“It is,” she said, the smile still in her voice. “And I baked potatoes and made a salad. Do you like salad?”
It felt like a leading question. What if he said no? Luna had always taken his food dislikes as a personal affront.
This was different. Alice wasn’t Luna. Alice was . . . special.
“Potato salad, I like that,” he said.
“I guess a lot of guys aren’t into salad,” she said. “Scarlet’s husband won’t eat it.”
Scarlet’s husband, Parker’s big fan. He didn’t want to talk about Mark. Or Scarlet.
“I’m willing to try some,” he said.
She came to the table, carrying a platter of meat loaf slices with two baked potatoes sitting on the end. “Go ahead and start
dishing up.”
Next came sour cream, butter and bacons bits. And rolls. And then the salad. A bunch of lettuce with bits of tomato and avocado.
And raisins? Okay, that was weird. But she’d also brought a bowl of croutons.
“Everyone loves croutons, right?” she said.
“Right,” he agreed.
Once they started eating the first thing he sampled was the meat loaf. “This is awesome,” he said, and she grinned.
“How did your day at the studio go?” he asked. As if they were a couple, each sharing how their day had gone. “I didn’t get
a chance to listen.”
“It was good. Your uncle explained the different football team positions to me and listeners all called in to convince me that I need to become a Seahawks fan.”
“Think you ever will?”
She shook her head. “No. But I think I could get into baseball. I really enjoyed that movie last night. What are we going
to watch tonight?”
“Moneyball. I love that movie.”
She nodded. “We can stream it. Tell me about your day at the store.”
“I was gone half the day.”
“Wimping out?” she teased.
“Nope. I did a ride-along with Lina. She felt some of my theories needed to be debunked.”
Alice smiled as she forked up a bite of salad. “Should we talk about that tomorrow? I bet it was interesting.”
“Uh, no. I’m trying to put the whole thing out of my mind. She runs a circus.”
“Eduardo has no complaints about their life. In fact, he’s been known to buy books for her.”
“Jalapeno ones?” A couple of days at the bookstore and he was becoming a book expert.
“Yep.”
“Do you read jalapeno books?”
She blushed almost enough to match the tomatoes in her salad and gave a little one-shouldered shrug. “Sometimes.”
“Yeah, those book boyfriends really come through,” he teased. Then sobered. “But what about in real life, Alice? Who comes
through for you?” He already knew the answer. A woman who thought she was nothing special had no one special. In Alice’s case
that felt wrong.
“I’m fine,” she said, and picked up their empty plates. “Are you ready for cake?”
There was a dodge.
He let it go. “Sure.”
The cake was better than anything he ever found in the grocery store bakery section. “This is stellar,” he said.
“It’s my mom’s recipe.”
“You’re a good cook.”
“It’s a hobby of mine.”
“What else do you do for fun, Alice?”
“Fun?” she repeated as if it were a foreign word.
“Yeah, fun.”
“I have the bookstore and the book clubs. And I read.”
“Reading is good. But what do you do?”
She pressed her lips together while she thought and he found himself wanting to kiss those lips.
“I go out for coffee. With my sister. We watch movies. I like to play Nintendo sometimes,” she added. She sounded like a kid,
fishing for the right answer for her teacher.
“You got a Nintendo?”
She shook her head. “Scarlet and Mark have one.”
This was her big excitement. No going clubbing, no sports, no getting out in nature and hiking.
“How about outdoors? Do you like to hike?”
Her head dropped. “I haven’t hiked since I was in Camp Fire. I don’t know why,” she added. “I liked being out in nature. I
like going to the beach, bringing a blanket and a snack and . . .”
“A book,” he finished with her.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she said, frowning.