Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Love is a feeling. That’s all.
From the sticky note correspondence of Gilbert Dalton and Ellie Sterns:
Eleanor—
What’s the Wi-Fi password?
—Gilbert
P.S. Thanks for the extra blankets.
Gil—
Glad you asked. I just changed it.
Password: YouNeedToPayForHalfOfThis
(Caps sensitive)
—Ellie
P.S. I left them outside for the feral cats that come around. But I guess it’s okay if you use them.
“So, what’s he like?” Ali asked. She was sprawled on the oversized sectional couch in Chris and Mae’s living room. A room that had been stripped to its bones as soon as Chris bought the place.
The previous owners had been into Hunter Chic, which I didn’t even know was a thing until I saw the house for the first time.
Let’s just say there were a whole lot of stuffed animals.
The dead, glassy-eyed kind. All of them found new homes except for Chuck, the nine-foot moose that lived in their oversized living room with the vaulted ceiling and huge stone fireplace.
Mae claimed some kind of sentimental feelings toward it; Chris said he had no idea how the moose got into the house and even less of an idea of how to get it out.
They decorated Chuck for the holidays. Twinkle lights at Christmas, an Uncle Sam hat for Fourth of July, that sort of thing. Right this minute, paper hearts hung off his antlers in honor of upcoming Valentine’s Day.
He was staring at me right now. His mournful dark eyes seemed to say, How did my life turn out this way? Chuck and I—we were kindred spirits, I think.
I fisted the throw pillow on my lap. “He’s a jerk.”
Mae paused in her total demolition of a plate of loaded nachos which she’d rested on the top of her pregnant stomach like it was a shelf. “Iris said he’s hot.”
“Iris says a lot of things,” I muttered. “He’s very…uptight.”
“Oh? Uptight how?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Doesn’t seem overly friendly, stern. He probably irons his underwear and socks. That kind of uptight.”
“Frankie said he seemed pretty decent,” Ali said. Frankie, the deputy who’d come to the house that night, was also Ali’s brother. Everyone was related to everyone in this town if you dug deep enough.
“Oh, you mean when he broke into my house?”
“Technically, his house too,” Ali said.
I glowered at her. “I don’t like him. And he didn’t seem to like me much either.”
“Oh, please.” Ali reached over, rather bravely I might add, to steal a nacho from Mae’s plate. “Everyone likes you.”
Mae slapped her hand. “Mine. Get your own, lady.”
“Wow.” Ali leaned back. Probably in fear. “Is this the pregnancy talking?”
Mae hunched over her plate like a pit bull on yard duty. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the crazed look in your eye right now. That kid is sucking all the nice out of you.”
“Then what’s your excuse?” She dug out a chip and shoved it in her mouth.
“Okay, now,” Ali said. “We have been friends, best friends , forever, but don’t think I won’t fill the library with balloons one night to annoy you.”
“That’s the best you got?”
“No,” Ali said, all wide-eyed innocence. “That would be the beginning.”
Mae sneered. “I dare you.”
Ali crossed her arms and glared at her best friend.
Mae was usually the voice of reason around here.
She was cool-headed, calm. As the town librarian, she’d had to deal with budget cuts and the last mayor, Peter Stone, who’d also been her ex, on top of her mother’s stroke, a deadbeat dad and, well, Iris. She could handle anything with poise.
But in the last couple of weeks, she’d gotten a little…
emotional. Not just the crying, but the feral-ness of a woman who was so done being pregnant.
I understood. I remembered that feeling of never being comfortable, always tired and hungry, and not sure if I needed a good cry or to kick someone’s ass.
“Did I tell you about my last date?” I said, hoping to change the topic before it came to blows.
Mae shook her head and went back to her nachos. “How was it?”
“Terrible.” I picked at the fringe on the throw pillow. “He left in the middle of it to fly across the country and profess his love to his ex-girlfriend.”
The nacho fell out of Mae’s hand as she stared at me. “That’s bad.”
“Cammie said he cried,” Ali said. Being the mayor, she got all the good gossip practically hand-delivered to her.
“That’s because my man picker is broken.” I fell sideways, my head landing on the arm of the couch. “Maybe I’m broken. Maybe that’s it.”
“Ah, don’t say that.” Ali tugged on my foot. “You’ve just had a run of bad luck.”
“That’s lasted three years? Yeah, that must be it.” I sat up slowly. “I’ve been thinking maybe I should take a break from dating. I’ve got Oliver and the café and now this whole house mess to sort out. I’m starting to think there aren’t any more good guys left.”
“They’re still out there,” Ali said. “Just last year you met that nice postman. What was his name?”
“Ah, Kyle.” I sighed. “Turns out his wife had a problem with us dating.”
“Oh, now I remember.” Ali slumped in her seat. “You can’t just give up.”
“Yes, I can. I can just not go on dates anymore. It’s that easy.” Saying it out loud was almost a relief. Dating was exhausting, grueling work. I could work three weeks straight at the café and not be as tired as I was after a horrible date. “Maybe I’m not meant to have someone.”
Mae placed a hand on my arm. “Why would you think that? You’re wonderful. Any guy would be lucky if you chose him.”
“I don’t know if that’s true.” Because the truth was that I was kind of a mess, even on a good day.
“I know it’s true.” Mae turned to Ali. “We need a plan.”
Ali tapped her mouth with a finger. “Yes, we do.”
“Something to get her on the right track.”
“I’ve got it.” Ali grinned and shouted, “Hey Chris, where does Mae keep all the romance novels she pretends she doesn’t read?”
“In the cabinets under the built-ins,” Chris shouted back from the next room where he and Oliver were playing video games. “All of them. Full of romance novels.”
“Excuse me.” Mae sniffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Chris appeared in the doorway with a huge cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. “Aw, Sprinkles, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
He waltzed over to her, leaned down and whispered something in her ear that had her cheeks almost matching the red of her hair. With a gasp, she shoved his shoulder; he chuckled low, dropped a kiss on her forehead and stole a chip from her plate.
“You should check out the pirate ones by Alicia Night. They’re Mae’s favorite.” Mae chucked a throw pillow at his head as he ambled away.
Ali skipped to the cabinets and came back with an armload of books. She dumped them on the couch next to Mae. “All the Alicia Night books.”
I picked one up and stared at the pirate on the front cover, his shirt unbuttoned and billowing in the breeze. In his arms, a woman with long dark hair and one long leg peeking out from her dress. To be honest, I’d never been much of a reader unless it was a true crime novel.
“O-kay.” I stared down at the pile. “So, ah, which one should I read first?”
“ The Pirate’s Booty ,” Mae and Ali said in unison.
“You’ve read it?” Mae asked, her eyes wide.
“Yeah.” Ali’s eyes darted to the left. “You know, in my spare time. Alicia Night is a pretty amazing writer. Really knows how to tell a story.”
Mae’s eyes narrowed. “Huh.”
“What does that mean?” Ali asked.
“Nothing. Just huh.” She shoved a chip in her mouth and smiled around it.
“So, The Pirate’s Booty then.” I plopped on the couch and stared at the book. “I’ll give it a try. Although I’ve never been one for romances. People don’t fall in love like that. Not in real life. Honestly, these things should be classified as fantasies.”
Mae and Ali shared a look , the kind that communicated things only best friends could understand.
“I mean, sure,” Mae said. “Love isn’t exactly like the romance novels tell us it’s going to be.”
“No kidding.” I set the book on the coffee table. “I, for one, have never been the recipient of a grand gesture.”
Ali perched next to me on the couch. “Real love, truly loving and being loved by someone, it’s better than anything in a romance novel. It’s hard to put it into words what that feels like.” She shook her head, a small, secret grin on her face. “It’s magical.”
I slumped back into the couch. “You’re going to have to forgive me if I am leery of the magic of it all.
You two seemed to have done that but I don’t think it’s in the cards for me.
No one has ever been close to putting a ring on this finger, no pining or secret kisses.
Definitely no meet-cutes. The last guy I met in the wild that seemed interested in me ended up trying to sell me cryptocurrency. ”
Ali winced.
“You should have all those things—the grand gesture, the proposal, the meet-cute,” Mae said quietly. “The right man will want to do those things for you. It might not look exactly how you expect it to but he’s out there.”
Ali nodded. “Maybe you haven’t been looking in the right places.”
Mae set her plate aside. “Exactly.”
“But how?” Ali murmured.
The two of them stared into the middle distance for what felt like an eternity. Then Mae snapped her fingers. “We should take over her love life.”
“Of course.” With a gasp, Ali jumped to her feet. “We could be matchmakers.”
“Um, no. I told you, I’m giving up on dating.”
They both ignored me.
“I love this idea,” Mae said.
“We know the kind of guy she needs,” Ali said, her eyes twinkling. “Kind and thoughtful and good with kids and loves her for just being her.”
Mae nodded. “Not just loves her. She needs a man who is crazy in love with her. Who makes her smile and laugh and knows how to take care of her.” Her eyes took on a dreamy haze and I knew she was thinking of my brother. To which I say, gross.
“Oh, yes.” Ali sighed happily and clasped a hand over her heart. “A man who doesn’t try to change her or fix her or anything like that.”
Annnd now Ali was thinking of her husband, Theo. It was kind of annoying to have two of my closest friends be so terribly, horribly, irrevocably in love.
“We should make a list of potential men.” Mae pulled out a small notebook and a pen from her purse.
“Good idea.” Ali paced the floor before she paused and snapped her fingers. “The new city planner in Brookshire is single. I met him last week at a countywide meeting and he wasn’t bad. Put him on the list.”
I groaned. Who wouldn’t want to go out with a guy described as wasn’t bad ?
“You know, I bet Chris knows some single guys from the team who would make?—”
I waved a hand. “Do I get a say in this?”
Like a weird, synchronized friendship bot, the two turned to me.
Mae blinked slowly and frowned. “I guess?”
“We should ask her questions, at least,” Ali said. “For research purposes.”
“Fine.” Mae picked up the pen and scribbled something at the top of a new page. “What are you looking for?”
“Someone with a good job, likes children. It would be great if he already had a well-funded retirement plan and owned his own home. Someone responsible and reliable and loyal.”
Ali’s forehead wrinkled. “You’re looking for a man, not a golden retriever, right?”
“Ha. Ha. Yes, a man. I’m not interested in anyone who drives a muscle car or a motorcycle. Definitely no one in a band. In fact, no musicians at all. Tattoos are not a plus. Drinkers, smokers, and wrestling fans need not apply.”
“Chris likes wrestling,” Mae said, rubbing the top of her stomach.
“What about hot?” Ali asked.
“Hot is nice but not necessary. Decent-looking is fine. No horns growing out of his head or whatever.”
“Huh. That’s a big no-go list.” Ali frowned. “I feel like we’re missing something.”
Mae nodded. “We are.”
With a sigh, I leaned back in my seat. “Look, y’all don’t get it. It seems to me you both have made solid decisions when it comes to your love lives. But me? I know it’s a joke, all these horrible dates I’ve gone on, but I can’t seem to help it. I attract the wrong kind of men.”
“That’s not true.” Mae placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Oh, but it is. If there were thirty good men in a room and one jerk, guess which one sees me and thinks, ‘That’s the one?’ The jerk, and I follow right along because he picked me.
For a little while, everything is good, and I feel like I’m special and loved.
But then little things start creeping in, the little things that show I’m not really anything to them except for ways that are good for them.
I’ll let them borrow money or give them a good time and it blows up in my face every time.
That’s why, when I moved here to Two Harts, I promised myself I wouldn’t put myself in that situation again.
I want a good one this time and if that means I have to wait for it, I will. ”
Boy, o-boy, Sunny and I were going to have an epic session later this week.
“I’m so tired of the jerks.” I stared at my hands clenched together in my lap. “I want a non-jerk. That’s all. That’s the only requirement.”
The silence grew but I was afraid to look up and see pity in their eyes. Because that was surely what I would find there.
Ali’s hand thumped on the table. “Ellie, I promise you we will find you the perfect non-jerk. He’ll be the non-jerk of your dreams.”
Warily, I lifted my head. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“This is a great idea,” Ali crowed. “Give us ten dates.”
“Ten?” I shuddered. “No way. One.”
“Eight.” That was Mae, her game face set.
“One.”
“Oh, come on,” Ali said. “Okay. Six.”
“One.”
“Three,” Mae said in her no-nonsense librarian voice. It was effective. “Final offer.”
They glared at me, daring me to argue. I knew when I was beat. “Fine. Three dates. And that’s it.”
“Excellent.” Ali rubbed her hands together in a way that strongly resembled an evil scientist.
“Why do I feel like I’ve just signed my life away or something?”
Ali smiled. With a lot of teeth. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You just made the best decision of your life.”