Chapter 29
FRIDAY
WENDY’S KITCHEN SMELLED heavenly, like cinnamon and clarity.
Was that even a scent? It was probably Chelsey’s wishful thinking.
She sat at the little round table by the window, hands wrapped around a mug that read Chaos Coordinator in gold script, which fit Wendy perfectly.
Outside, wind danced through the cottonwood trees.
Inside, her stomach did somersaults in slow motion.
“How’s your wrist doing?” Chelsey asked Wendy as she refilled her mug in the kitchen.
“Fine. I’ll get the brace off next week.” She sat across from Chelsey, one eyebrow lifted lightly, as if to say, I know you didn’t just come over to ask about my hand.
Chelsey sighed. “Am I crazy?”
“Almost certainly,” Wendy said cheerfully, breaking a slice of banana bread in half and handing it to Chelsey. “But be more specific.”
“I’m thinking about telling Dan no.” She paused because saying the next words out loud would start something moving in a direction she wasn’t sure about yet.
“I’m also thinking about selling my house,” Chelsey said in a rush.
And maybe traveling with Taylor. Like, go with him.
To Asia. She covered her eyes with her hands.
She actually said all those words in a condensed version she’d been trying not to think about out loud. Now it was out in the universe.
Wendy blinked once slowly. “Interesting.”
“He offered me CEO of The Event Planners. CEO. Do you know what that means?”
“Yes,” Wendy said dryly. “I can read business cards.”
“It means pressure. Responsibility. People expecting me to know things. Budgets. Strategy. Probably golf.”
“Golf is not mandatory for leadership.”
“It feels implied.”
Wendy slid a mug toward her. “Drink.”
Chelsey obeyed out of habit and took a sip. Sweet, calming and annoyingly effective.
Wendy leaned back in her chair. “I told you not to make any decisions this week for a reason. You’re running on adrenaline, panic, and whatever personality disorder comes with success.”
“I do not have a disorder.”
“You alphabetized my spice rack during tax season.”
“It needed help.”
Wendy smiled into her tea. “Chelsey, listen to me. You have wanted to be taken seriously since you were fifteen and stapling ribbons to centerpieces. You built yourself into someone people trust.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to say yes.”
“No. It means you owe yourself enough respect to decide with a clear head.”
Chelsey’s thoughts quieted. Wendy was right. Chelsey didn’t need to make any decisions today or tomorrow or next week.
Chelsey stared into her mug. “What if I fail?”
Wendy’s voice softened. “Then you fail at something worthy. But I don’t think that’s what scares you.”
Chelsey looked up.
“I think you’re afraid you might never leave if you take this on.”
Chelsey laughed once, shaky and unwilling. “You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Say the thing I was carefully avoiding.”
“It’s a gift.”
Chelsey reached across the table for another slice of banana bread and took a bite, buttery crumbs scattering onto the table.
“Hon, the whole town of Juniper Valley has been holding its breath for you to realize you have wings and should fly.”
“But I’ve lived on the same street my whole life. I grew up here. I went to prom here. I helped paint the mural on the back of the library! I run the auction, plus other huge events. I even have my Bake Me Happy punch card memorized.”
“I know Annie gives you free pastries all the time, girl. You can’t fool me” she said as she sipped her tea.
That was true. She’d started feeding Chelsey while she grieved for Taylor, as if he died. In a way, he had. “But how do I just leave that?”
“You don’t.” Wendy patted Chelsey’s hand. “You take it with you. It becomes part of your carry-on.”
“And what if it’s a one-way ticket? What if I leave and find out I’m just a small-town girl trying to be someone I’m not?”
Wendy leaned in. “Or, what if you find out you’re someone braver than you ever thought and you love the bustle of the world outside of this town?”
Chelsey swallowed as her chest tightened with anxiety and fear. “I want to see the world. I do,” she said. “This town is the only family I have now. And I’m finally realizing it’s not the place—it’s the people. And I think Taylor is that person.”
Wendy reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “And Taylor? Do you know what he wants?”
“I don’t,” Chelsey admitted. “That’s the part that scares me. What if I give up everything and he’s still halfway out the door?”
Wendy shook her head. “You’re not giving up anything.
You’re choosing. There’s a difference. And as for Taylor—sweetheart, that boy has been circling you like a planet caught in your gravity since he was fifteen.
If he’s still unsure, it’s not because he doesn’t love you.
It’s because he doesn’t know if you want the same kind of orbit. ”
Chelsey let out a half-laugh, half-sob. “You always make space metaphors when it gets emotional.”
“It’s the only language that does love justice,” Wendy said with a wink. “Now. You don’t need to make any decisions tonight.”
“I’ll talk with Dan tomorrow.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breathe. She hadn’t slept well the last few nights as she came to a decision that would change the direction of her whole life, she just didn’t know which way to go.
“That sounds good.”
“And tomorrow Taylor’s taking me to Mink Creek.”
Wendy smiled. “Then pack tissues. And maybe a little courage.”
Chelsey sipped her tea, her heart pounding with something close to hope.
Maybe it wasn’t about holding on or letting go.
Maybe it was about pulling together.