Chapter Twenty-Six #2
Immediately, he’d texted back, just saying, Okay.
His one-word reply had been a relief. And slightly heartbreaking at the same time.
Which seemed all kinds of silly. I tried to tell myself that I barely knew him, but my heart seemed to disagree.
Now I was steering the cart down the craft supply aisle, looking for a medium-sized loop, cord, beads, and embroidery thread for the handmade gift I had in mind for Katy’s present.
The store was quiet at this time on a Saturday night, but it felt massive and overwhelming as I scanned shelves. Snug’s could easily fit in here three times over, and suddenly having a variety of options felt like too many.
I enjoyed small-town life, I realized. Its coziness.
Its community. I liked that the cashier at Snug’s now knew my name, liked feeling as though I belonged to a bigger whole.
That I was important to the bigger whole.
And I’d only been in town for a week and a half—I couldn’t imagine how it felt living there.
I enjoyed trying to imagine it, though.
My phone dinged as I reached for a macramé ring, which would work perfectly for the gift I had in mind.
I set it onto the seat of the shopping cart and checked the text message.
It was from my younger brother Jordan. A silly meme.
Both twins communicated primarily by memes and GIFs. It was their love language.
The graphic he sent was an image of a skeleton sitting on a bench. ME, WAITING FOR YOU TO COME HOME was printed in block letters.
I clicked the laugh reaction.
Almost immediately, another text came in. This one from Hunter.
It was an image of Dory from Finding Nemo. Printed on it was ARE YOU HOME YET?
I sent back a GIF of someone shaking their head so vigorously they fell over.
As I pushed my cart along, looking for cording, I imagined the twins huddled up together—probably at a pub, since they’d had an afternoon game—searching online for memes. I smiled because I could see it easily.
However, I also had the feeling they’d been coerced to reach out in the first place. For as much as they thought alike, they didn’t often text at the same time, with the same general message.
My hunch was confirmed a moment later when my oldest brother, Eric, sent a text, asking when he’d see me again.
A minute later, my dad texted as well.
Yep, this was a coordinated attack, and I had no doubt my mother was behind the ambush.
I sent a quick note to the group chat, saying I was fine and would be home soon.
Immediately, Mom texted back, asking me to define soon.
By August 18th, I texted along with a smiley face. Then I erased the smiley face. Then added it back and hit send. It seemed I was just a smiley face kind of person.
A series of reactions came flooding in. Most of them sad faces or thumbs-down.
Yet I couldn’t help noticing that Amy hadn’t chimed in. I tried to remember if she had something going on tonight or if her absence was rebellion. I wasn’t sure.
I was trying to choose a color of faux suede cording when my phone buzzed once again.
Amy: Sorry about that. Mom is determined to get you home ASAP
Me: Not happening
Amy: Famous last words
Unsure if the conversation was over, I kept the phone in my hand as I added the suede to my cart and looked around for beads.
I was searching for the prettiest, most colorful beads possible.
I wanted to make this homemade gift extra special because I’d abandoned my idea for a second gift—the crazy, zany one—after talking to Tenn’s connection.
When my cell rang, I winced and checked the caller ID, fully expecting it to be my mother. I about dropped the phone when I saw the call was from Callum.
My phone kept on ringing while I debated whether to answer. Finally, I took a deep breath and said, “Hello?” But I was too late—the call had already gone to voicemail.
Should I call him right back?
Or wait for the voicemail?
Or dig a big hole, fling myself in, and bury myself alive?
The latter was appealing, but I decided to just call him back and get it over with.
I pushed the button to return the call and immediately heard ringing coming from behind me. I spun around. Callum stood at the far end of the aisle, leaning against a rack that held bolts of fabric.
He gave me a cheeky wave as he answered the call: “Hello?”
“How long have you been standing there?” I asked.
“Only a minute or so.”
“Nice basket.”
He held it in his other hand and playfully swung it back and forth as he walked toward me. “Thanks. Turns out they’re quite handy.”
He smiled and my pulse pounded.
“How’s your head?” he asked in a tone that questioned whether it had ever hurt at all.
Right at this moment, I felt a little dizzy. I blamed that on the foolish way my heart was reacting. “Not too bad. I took some ibuprofen earlier.”
“Good to hear.” He was almost to my cart when he added, “Well, I should get a move on. I have some more shopping to do. I’m going to a birthday party tomorrow.”
Jumping jacks. My heart was doing jumping jacks. “Oh? I might see you there.”
“Good. You can be the one to tell Renny about our date.”
Ouch.
“Sorry,” I said, making crackling noises into the phone. “You’re breaking up. Talk to you later, bye.”
He hid a slight smile behind a sigh, then slid the phone into his back pocket. “You shouldn’t have agreed to go on the date if you didn’t want to go.”
I flinched and tucked my phone back into my purse. I didn’t know how to have this conversation. “It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
I had to look away. His blue gaze nearly did me in.
“Then what, Juliet?” he asked again, his voice gentle, quiet.
I struggled to find the words. To explain without having to put my heart on display.
“You know what?” he said. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He spun around and walked off.
I couldn’t let him leave like this. I just couldn’t.
I started following and blurted, “I wasn’t playing along.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I froze and wished I could reel them back in. It was too much. Too soon.
He turned. “What?”
I latched onto the cart, gripping the cool plastic handle for dear life.
I took a deep breath. “When you asked me out, I wasn’t pretending when I said yes.
I wasn’t playing along. I wanted to go out with you.
I was too embarrassed to correct you when you thanked me for going along with Renny’s idea. ”
He took a step toward me. Then another.
“And it was kind of mortifying. You have to see that, don’t you? I thought I could do it. Just go on the date and pretend, because it was for a good cause, right? For Renny. But I just really don’t want to pretend. I don’t. I can’t. Life’s too short to fake your way through it.”
Callum took another step toward me and set his basket down on the floor. He stood about a foot away now, and I could smell the cedar and oil, and my heart was thump-thump-thumping like mad.
I rushed on, in full ramble mode. “It wouldn’t be fair. Not to me, not to you, because I’d overheard what you said about how you didn’t do passing through and—”
I lost all train of thought when he reached out, cupped my face, and kissed me. I let go of the cart and leaned into him, so close I could feel his heart pounding against my chest.
Just when I thought I might die from happiness, he pulled back and rested his forehead against mine.
“What about passing through?” I whispered.
His gaze met mine, held steady. “I’ll take the risk if you will.”
In my head I could hear Renny saying the risk was worth it.
My heart was practically soaring when I smiled and said, “How late does the Lickety Split stay open?”