Chapter 14
Fourteen
Poppy
“Okay,” Clementine says, clapping her hands together and using her teacher voice to get us to shut up. “Quiet down so we can get started.”
I slant my eyes toward Clover, whose lips twitch.
And I know she’s thinking the same thing I am.
It’s just like being back in Ms. Murphy’s class.
Clem comes from a long line of teachers and I swear that voice of hers is genetic.
And it snaps us all to attention.
All except Paige who just sneers and keeps tapping away on her phone (I swear Sneer is her default mood—well, that and Judgmental), and Daisy, who keeps chatting away with Gertie Wilkins.
Some things never change.
Daisy’s a talker. Always has been. Always will be.
Paige is a mean girl. Always has been. Always will be.
“Wait for it,” I murmur.
Clover’s mouth quirks.
“Ms. Perez,” Clem says right on cue. “Would you like to step outside to finish your conversation so we can all get started?”
Daisy flips Clem the bird, and Blossom, who’s on my other side, chokes on her laughter.
Yup. Some things never change.
I exchange a grin with Clover and then focus on Clem when she continues talking.
“The first item on our agenda is the Home Ice Classic,” she says, ignoring Daisy’s outstretched hand (and conversation—though to Daisy’s credit, it’s winding down and she and Gertie take their seats a couple of moments later).
“The rink is going to donate the ice time,” Blossom chimes in.
“That’s great.” Clem ticks off an item on her list. “But I think we need to discuss ways to amp up the day’s events.
Fundraising for the year overall is down—which isn’t a surprise, considering the economy.
Things are tight for everyone, so I don’t want to make the cost out of reach for those who want to attend.
But maybe we can think of some ways to draw in tourists rather than locals. ”
“You think they’ll care about funding the Pioneer Museum?” someone asks.
“Considering all five towns in the area come to the museum for field trips, I would hope so,” Clem says. “I know it’s important to me and my family and everyone in this room, and I know that many parents in town rely on it for the after-school programs and summer camps—”
I certainly do.
“—it provides. But I also know that it’s easy to look at it as a hokey, low-budget museum.”
“Well, that’s rude,” Gertie huffs.
“Not if it’s the truth,” Paige mutters.
Gertie glares at her.
Clem sighs and leans back in her seat. “Rude or not, it is the truth of it. So,” she says with a determined inclination of her head, “how are we going to make those people eat their words and make this the best Home Ice Classic ever?”
We all fall silent, thinking.
Or I’m thinking, anyway.
Because, apparently, everyone else is staring at me.
Staring.
“Um,” I say softly. “What’s up?”
Clem’s smile goes so wide my stomach immediately sinks.
I know that look.
And it spells trouble.
“What?” I whisper.
“Guys,” Clover begins, always the soft soul trying to protect me. “Maybe we should—”
“Well, I think it’s a great idea!”
I whip my head toward Daisy, see her and Gertie both grinning.
“What?” I ask, more firmly this time.
“If we want to pull in outside folks, it definitely is an excellent idea,” Blossom says.
“What is an excellent idea?” I ask exasperatedly.
“Asking Storm to play in the Home Ice Classic,” Clem says, and even as my mouth drops open, a thousand protests bubbling up in the back of my throat, she keeps talking.
“And when you ask him, make sure to tell him to invite his friends too. Maybe we can get some Hawks fans to make the drive to watch the Storm Harrison play on his hometown rink.”
“Like that’ll happen,” Paige sneers.
“Um—”
“Storm Harrison and his buddies,” Gertie says.
“I—”
“Oh, yes!” Blossom says. “And I bet we can ask Finn if some of the Eagles players might be willing to come out. We could bill it as a rivalry series or something and maybe even get some Bay Area folks to snap up some tickets.”
“I’m not sure—”
“That’s brilliant!” Clem says, writing furiously on her notepad. “Okay, you’re on Finn and the Eagles. Poppy is on Storm and the Hawks. Clover, do you think you could donate some flower arrangements like you did last year?”
“Of course,” she says softly. “I also saw a video about flower crowns recently. That might be a fun add for the kids to buy. Or well—” She shrugs. “For their parents to buy for them, anyway.”
“That’s the way to think about it, missy!” Gertie declares.
“I love the idea of flower crowns,” I say softly. “And I know that Holly will be all over them too.”
“Good,” she replies with a wink and a small smile. “Because I was hoping she would be my model.”
I grin despite the fact that my stomach is in knots. “She’ll love that.”
“Great. That’s all settled,” Clem says before I can bring us back to the most important topic at hand—the complete and total improbability that Storm will ever agree to raise money for a town he left and never wanted to come back to. “Paige and her father have committed to the catering—”
Paige nods, but does it looking like she swallowed a lemon.
And her presence in the room finally makes sense—her dad, who owns the riverfront restaurant, Harbor & Flame, is making her participate.
Something else that never changes.
“—and Daisy and Gertie, could you work on some of the other downtown shops to secure donations? If we pair them with Clover’s arrangements, we can have some awesome silent auction items.”
“On it,” Gertie says.
Daisy nods. “Of course,” she says. “And Happy Tails will be happy to donate some pet sitting and dog walking vouchers too.”
“Great,” Clem says. “Now, unless there’s anything else—”
“Actually,” I begin.
Clem talks over me. “—we’ll adjourn until next month.” She closes her notebook and stands and so do the rest of my so-called friends, thus giving me no out on the whole asking-Storm-to-do-something-he-most-certainly-won’t-want-to-do thing.
Ugh.
I stifle a groan and get to my feet.
Clearly, I’m not going to get to voice my objections here.
I’ll just make them very clear the next time Clem comes into Sully’s.
The next time she wants her favorite, The Fine Print? Instead of whisky in it, she’s only getting water.
For the foreseeable future.
Feeling better, I let them adjourn the meeting and start gathering my things.
“So,” I hear. “Are you going to ask him?”
Turning, I see Clover standing beside me, her eyes gentle.
“Because if you really don’t want to,” she says. “I’ll talk to Clem and get her to back off.”
I sigh and shove a hand through my hair.
She would talk to Clem.
And she would get her to back off.
Clover may be quiet and sweet, but the woman has a backbone of steel the likes of which I’ve never seen in another person.
No one does stubborn like Clem.
“It’s okay,” I tell her, squeezing her arm. “I’ll ask him.” I sigh. “He’ll say no.” A shrug. “And then we can all move on.”
My friend looks like she doesn’t quite believe that, but to her credit, she doesn’t push.
“How are you doing otherwise?” she asks as we walk outside.
“Fine, Holly’s at camp. The bar is busy.” And Storm is…
Storm.
“And the posts aren’t bothering you?”
I frown. “Posts?”
She stills.
Then winces.
“Shoot,” she murmurs. “You hadn’t seen.”
“Seen what?” I ask, my heart thudding against my chest. “Clove,” I press. “Seen what?”
Another wince, but to her credit, she pulls out her phone, taps at the screen, then holds it up for me to see.
There’s a screenshot of an article from the Cedar Hollow Gazette:
LOCAL HOCKEY STAR RETURNS—AND DISCOVERS HE’S A FATHER
“Omg,” I whisper.
Unfortunately, the comments are worse.
user1: wait he’s actually back back???
user2: i thought he swore he’d never come back to cedar hollow
user3: yeah and poppy’s still here soooo…good luck with that
user4: NOT him showing up like nothing happened
user5: nothing happened??? be serious
user 6: this town is about to be unbearable for the next few weeks and i for one am READY
user7: someone check on poppy immediately
user8: u guys don’t even know the half of it
“Oh, my God,” I groan, passing her cell back.
“You hadn’t seen it,” she says.
“Unfortunately not.” I tilt my head up to the sky. “Remind me again, why do I live here?”
“Because you love it?” Clover asks hopefully.
“Undetermined at this point,” I mutter. “Seriously, undetermined.”
She touches my shoulder. “Want me to try and get them to take it down?”
“Will that stop the gossip?” I ask even though we both know the answer.
She sighs.
I sigh.
“Want to depose your daughter and be my flower crown model?” She tilts her head toward her shop, which is located in the house she inherited from her grandmother, and…right next door to Storm’s place.
Heaven save me from Cedar Hollow.
But she’s still talking.
“I have prosecco,” she cajoles.
The tightness between my shoulder blades softens.
Not even Storm Harrison could keep me away from gorgeous smelling flowers and crisp, bubbling prosecco.
I loop my arm through Clover’s.
“You’re on.”