11. Annabelle #2
Before I go, I make one more piece of art.
I lean over to the now-empty booth across from me, take down the homemade reservation sign that the ROMEOs made, and carefully peel the tape from the back.
I get out some nice cardstock and make them a new sign, complete with little cartoons of the four of them.
Roy with his dark ebony skin and puffy hair.
Fred’s skin a lighter brown, blue cap on his head.
Milt with ruddy cheeks and a plaid shirt.
Something’s missing. I draw Stan from memory, all kind eyes and soft jowls.
I tape the new sign on the wall behind their booth, leave a big tip for my server, and head back home.
The next night, after half an hour of bump-crash-yell, I escape to The Up and Away Café again.
This time, when someone joins me in my booth, I’m not that surprised, except the stranger sitting across from me looks like a funhouse mirror version of Grant.
This one’s a ginger, with a small scruff of red-gold beard and a brilliant smile.
“Can I sit here?” he asks.
“Um…sure?”
The diner’s only half full today, so he doesn’t have to sit with me. But he’s already shrugged off his coat. He leans his elbows on the table. “If you want me gone, just say the word and I’ll leave. But I’m interested in getting to know you. You’re Annabelle, right?”
“Uh huh.” I pull the card I’m working on toward myself. “And you are…”
“I’m Blake,” he says, chin up and chest lifted, as if he’s been waiting for this moment.
“Last name Neverly?” I ask. The family resemblance is strong.
“So you’ve heard of me?”
“Should I have?”
“Depends on what you’ve heard.” He runs the back of his hand over his jawline. There’s a spark of mischief in his green eyes, and he has effortless charm that probably works on every girl in Echo Creek. “Anyway,” he says. “I’m much more impressive in person.”
“Who says you’re impressive?” I keep my tone neutral. Curious. I’m just entertained enough by this guy to let him try a few more opening lines before I cut him off.
“Lots of people. Very beautiful people. I go above and beyond. Always.” He says it in such a matter-of-fact way that I’m sure he believes it. Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve found the town player.
“I like to judge for myself,” I say.
He leans back in the seat, undeterred. “I like a judge with standards. It makes winning your approval more exciting.”
“Competition is always welcome. Just don’t be offended if you don’t win.”
“I might.”
“You won’t.”
“Don’t tell me that my brother already—”
“Oh my gosh, Annabelle, I’m so sorry I’m late.” Lia rushes up to the table. “Have you been waiting long?”
“Um…” Did I forget a meeting?
Lia turns her considerable energy toward Blake. “You’re in my seat.”
“Yours, is it?” he asks, not moving.
“It will be, in about two seconds. Get out.”
“Nice to see you too, Lia.” Blake takes his time unfolding himself from the seat. He stands in front of her for a moment that stretches just a bit too long, then ambles away.
Lia takes his place and pulls a menu from the stack at the edge of the table.
“Did we…” I gesture between us.
“Have plans? No.”
“Is this about women’s solidarity? Like, you’re saving me from a predator?”
“Not that. Blake’s harmless. The problem is, he thinks he’s handsome.”
“Because he is?”
“It’s so annoying.” Our server approaches and Lia orders breakfast-for-dinner. She turns back to me. “Blake is the worst Neverly brother.”
“How many Neverly brothers are there?”
“Four. Plus June. Grant’s the oldest, then Felix, a year younger. Then comes June, Blake and Cole. Cole’s the Christmas one. You’ll never see him in town, especially in winter.”
“The Christmas one?”
“I forgot you don’t know about the birthdays. Grant was born on Valentine’s Day.”
“Yeah. It’s super cute.”
“Don’t let him hear you say that.”
“I know. He’s somehow allergic to romance.” I push my cardmaking supplies to one side. “Go on.”
“The second brother, Felix, was born on April Fool’s Day. Then there’s June, the luckiest one.”
“Don’t tell me. Summer solstice?” Her Instagram handle suddenly makes sense. “And Blake?”
“Halloween.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“And the baby on Christmas? You’ve got to be making this up.”
Lia grabs the water that the server drops off and takes a long drink. “Mr. and Mrs. Neverly swear they didn’t plan it, but I bet after the first two, they started to time their sex life, you know? Really commit to the bit.”
I tip my head toward Blake, who’s sitting at the counter now, making the woman next to him laugh. “I’m surprised he’s not all goth and spooky.”
“Oh no. Blake’s all about a good time.”
“Well, Halloween is the sexiest holiday, so that tracks.” I turn back to Lia. “Did you two ever hook up?”
“Eww, no.” Lia looks like she’d rather stab him with a fork. “And neither should you.”
“Noted.”
Lia’s food arrives and she douses her pancakes in syrup. “You’re not dating at all, are you?”
“I’m on the apps,” I say. “What about you?”
“No.”
“Not on the apps, or not dating?”
“At the moment, neither. Our dating pool is more like a puddle, only deep enough to hold one sad frog.”
“Have you tried kissing that frog?”
“I’m not into slime.” Lia’s eyes stray back to Blake, then she checks herself and cuts aggressively into a pancake. “You know what we need? A proper girls’ night. Let me call my friend Sophie.”
“Sophie? I think I met her. Long brown hair? Looks like she was born to pull you out of quicksand and look great doing it?”
“That’s Sophie. How did you meet?”
“In the line for church lady pasties.”
Lia doesn’t even blink at this very Northern Michigan sentence. She’s already got her phone out, texting Sophie, and asking me what my schedule looks like.
“What about June?” I ask. “She seems cool.”
“Already added.” Lia’s typing with her thumbs. “Let me coordinate everyone’s calendars. Leave it to me.”
Grant: The box has landed
Annabelle: Describe it
Grant: Rectangular, brown, cardboard, what do you expect?
Annabelle: Expensive
Grant: That too. Whatever’s in there is definitely judging my life choices
Annabelle: New ear protectors. And they are
Grant: Does that mean I get mine back?
Annabelle: I’ll bring them down
Grant: Please do. Then we can go back to our carefully curated ignoring schedule