Chapter 23
Fable
The gazebo in the middle of downtown Fern River has seen and heard a lot of things.
Secrets to Santa are whispered under its eaves during the holiday festival, Logan’s famous fuck’s sake, Cathy took place in the grass right beside it, the winner of the annual pie baking contest is crowned on its steps, and Tessa’s first kiss—with a boy in her theater class—took place on the bench inside.
But for the last three days, the gazebo has been forced to bear witness to hours of my mental roller coaster over that rental space.
Every lunch break, I scurry out the door of Hawkins Hardware and plant myself on this bench with a book.
I try my best to read Gramps’s worn copy of My Side of the Mountain, but the building across the street steals all my attention.
The ornate double doors. The windows partially covered in paper from the inside. The cracked sidewalk. The small, red For Rent sign.
As much as I want to walk over there, I haven’t let myself. I don’t feel brave enough for that. So, instead, I sit. I think. And I try my best to ignore that the bookshop idea is burrowing under my skin, headed straight for my heart.
“Want some company?” The familiar voice startles me as Theo appears in my line of vision, dark green scrubs stretched over those broad shoulders. He’s clutching a bag from the taco truck on the corner. “Or am I interrupting your staring contest with that building?”
The gazebo now witnesses at least five seconds of me gazing longingly at those damn lips—the ones that kissed me three days ago. Really kissed. Like the kind of kiss that lit up my entire body and had me finally giving up on the vibrator ban I instated after the hospital incident.
It might actually be unhealthy how much time I’ve spent thinking about those lips.
“I’m not having a staring contest,” I lie as he sits on the bench beside me.
“This is the third time I’ve seen you doing this on your lunch break.”
Shit. “So you’ve been spying on me from the clinic windows, then?”
Instead of answering, he hands me a drink. “Thought you could at least be hydrated and fed while you stare,” he says, offering me two foil-wrapped tacos.
Suddenly ravenous at the sight, I peel back the foil and take a huge bite. The spice sparks on my tongue, and I sigh with pleasure. When my eyes cut over to Theo, his focus is pinned to me.
“Thank you,” I mutter around my bite.
A warm grin curves his lips. “You’re welcome,” he replies, leaning over to press a kiss to my temple.
These temple kisses are going to have to stop. The kisses on the lips are hot and horny and all-consuming. But the soft kisses? The ones he whispers against me, gently and intimately. Those are the ones that feel out of my control. They feel so unfake that my heart can’t sort them out.
Theo has told me real relationships aren’t on the table, but when he kisses me like that, I wonder if he’s forgetting too.
It’s easy to get swept up in the moment, but I’m trying my best to hold on to the boundary between us.
Honestly, I don’t have the capacity for a relationship right now either.
I’m barely keeping my life together, and I know for sure that romantic distractions wouldn’t help me focus one bit.
Physical distractions, though? Well, I might be able to make time for that.
My body won’t stop wanting him. I’m drawn to him in a way that seems threaded into the fabric of who I am.
It’s a twisted, knotted feeling in my gut, pulling me closer to him all the time, and I’m starting to wonder if I might actually be more productive if I gave into that part.
Maybe it’s because I’ve known him for so long? Maybe it’s just that I know I’m safe with him? I trust Theo, and I know that whatever limits and boundaries I ask for, he would follow them explicitly.
I’m not quite sure I know how to have a just physical relationship. Hell, I don’t even know what to call that. I’ve had one-night stands, and I’ve had relationships, but this would fall somewhere in between. Some sort of no-strings, friends-with-benefits situationship?
“Ran into Ethan at Coffee Cottage this morning,” he says, wadding up the foil from his first taco.
“He told me the drive-in is doing a fundraiser this weekend. They’re trying to get a better sound system before the summer movie series, so they’re hosting an all-night marathon.
The concession stand will be open, the Branch is setting up a bar, Mrs. LaGrande is bringing cupcakes.
The whole nine yards.” His brows bounce in a we should go motion.
“What movies?”
“It’ll be fun,” he says, ignoring my question.
“What movies, Theo?”
He winces. “Scream one through four?”
My lips press into a thin line. “Remember when I hid under the coffee table during The Sixth Sense? I can’t handle scary movies.”
“Right, but is Scream really scary? Or is it hilarious and . . . campy?”
“Scary!”
“But you love murder,” he insists, and I’ll give him half credit for that.
“I like murder mystery. True crime. The puzzle part, not the gory part.”
He nods like we’re talking about the same thing. “And I’ll be there to protect you.” He gives me a cocky grin, and dammit, he’s so fucking cute it hurts to look at him sometimes. I want to kiss that smirk right off his face.
That desperately horny part of my brain takes over and decides that cuddling up next to Theo all night sounds lovely. “Fine,” I concede. I can close my eyes during the scary parts.
His thigh presses against mine as he unwraps his next taco. “Perfect, now, we need to strategize for soccer practice this afternoon. How can we get Priya to come out of her shell a little?” He’s giddy with excitement. “I just know if we got her to kick that ball, she’d send it two fields over.”
“This is a wild idea,” Theo starts, collecting our trash into the paper bag. “But we could walk over there and look at it.” His head tips toward the vacant storefront I’ve been peeking at through our entire lunch.
I slurp down the last sip of my drink, glancing to those beautiful double doors again.
While things are much safer if I stay away from that building, my curiosity is pretty much consuming my brain at this point, and I worry the only way to squash the idea is to go over there.
Maybe from a closer distance, it’ll seem ridiculous and irresponsible. Then I can let it go.
“Want to walk over there with me?” The words come barreling out of me, sounding less like a question and more like a threat.
A delighted grin hooks the edge of his mouth. “Thought you’d never ask.”
We walk side by side across the street, my pace so quick that even Theo’s long legs are stretching to keep up.
When I step onto the sidewalk in front of the building, though, I pause.
Clear my throat. Nerves are suddenly dancing under my skin, but I push through and walk forward to peer in the window.
Through the spot where the paper has peeled away from the glass, I can see what looks like a construction zone.
It’s as if someone got halfway through a makeover before leaving everything behind.
Paint buckets along one wall, scaffolding with drop cloths hanging over it, some long pieces of lumber in one corner, and about half the floor has been ripped up to reveal the concrete underneath.
It needs a lot of work before it could ever house a business again.
But the thing is—the problem is—I can immediately see it.
As I stare through the dirty glass, I can see what Gramps would’ve dreamt up.
Rows of shelves, a seating area in the front by the window, seasonal decorations throughout, a place for community meetups and children’s story times.
Any moment Meg Ryan is going to pop into view inside, The Shop Around the Corner from You’ve Got Mail coming to life right before my eyes.
It’s perfect, actually. Frustratingly, thrillingly perfect.
“Dammit,” I whisper, pressure building in my throat.
“What’s wrong?” Theo moves closer.
“This was supposed to make me not want to think about it anymore. The plan was to come over here and prove this is a dumb idea.” I step back and shake my head. “But even though it’s a mess in there . . . I can see the possibilities.”
He reaches for my hand and gently folds his fingers around mine. “What’s so bad about that?”
I give a sarcastic laugh. “Are you kidding? It’s terrifying!”
“What is?”
“Hoping?” I shrug. “My track record is not great—when things get hard, I quit. I can’t trust my instincts with something like this.”
A sympathetic smile curves his mouth. “What if you weren’t quitting, you were making space to find your true calling?” There’s a roller-coaster dip in my stomach. “It’s not a bad thing to keep searching for what makes you happy. You’re allowed to change your mind.”
My brain is going a hundred miles an hour, trying to rearrange what he’s saying and make it make sense. I wave toward the building. “How do I know if this is the thing?” It’s so tangled up in my grief for Gramps that it’s hard to tell.
“Only you can answer that,” he says, tilting his head. “But the good news is you don’t have to decide right this second. This place has been empty for what, two years? You have time to think about it.”
I turn to look at the faded For Rent sign and the phone number scrawled in black ink. I can practically hear Gramps’s excited voice in my ears saying, This is it, Fable. This is the one.
Goose bumps rise over the back of my neck. Something clenches in my stomach. An awareness. A rightness that feels impossible to ignore.
What would Millie do? She would think on it, let the idea soak in a little at a time. Weigh the options and assess.
“Okay. I’m going to think about it,” I tell myself out loud.
“Hell yeah!” Theo shouts down the street, pumping a fist in the air. “She’s going to think about it!”
I hide my face behind my hands. “Stop yelling or I’m also going to think about hurting you.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders and steers me toward the hardware store.
When I pull up to the A-frame that evening, I sit in the silent Bronco for longer than necessary, my mind a whirlpool of thoughts.
All afternoon, I’ve been hyperfixated on the thought of the bookstore.
I found myself behind the counter at work googling things like: How to open a bookstore.
Do I need a business degree to run a bookstore?
Small business loans. I made a mood board on Pinterest—full of cozy, adorable bookshop vibes.
I jotted down random thoughts in the Notes app on my phone: Also sell puzzles?
Dad would be great at story time. Stickers.
Sage-green walls? Plants in the front window.
Knocks—bookstore cat? Mom can help decorate.
There’s a gentle, swelling excitement in my heart every time I think about it. Not that I know all the answers, but my chest feels like it’s brimming with . . . something.
Heartburn? Is this the fire-breathing dragon sensation Mia was referring to?
I don’t know how to tell.
My gaze traces the peaked A-frame roof, the porch, where two empty chairs sit in the corner, to the flower beds around the—
I blink. Gasp. Throw open the door before I’ve even remembered to unbuckle my seat belt.
I hiss a shit and fuck, wrestling to untangle myself, then tumble out of the car and run to the flower bed.
My jeans sink right into the wet earth as I drop to the ground, gaping down at the tiny sprouts breaking through the soil. Tears tingle behind my eyes.
The tulips. Right here, finally, bright green and healthy.
“I thought you were gone,” I whisper, gliding my finger gently over the side of one. It’s sturdy and strong already.
Last year, I spent weeks walking over here from my parents’ house. I’d approach with hope ballooning my chest, but every time, it would pop and deflate when I found nothing. I had to stop checking because the disappointment was too heavy.
I don’t know what it is, but something has changed. The weather? The compost? The universe? Whatever it is, I’ve never been so happy for a glimmer of hope.
“You’re going to be beautiful,” I tell them, emotion bleeding through the words. A tear falls and lands on my thigh. I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand and sniffle.
A wet laugh trickles out of me when I realize I’m crying over tulip sprouts, but something about these sprouts feels like a message. And I don’t know what that message is yet, but I’m paying attention. It means something. I can feel it in the earth beneath me, right up into my bones.
“I’m listening, Gramps,” I whisper, rubbing my hands up my arms to fight the sudden chill in the air.