Chapter 10 #2
“Well, you’d better give her a five-star review on the app,” Skylar says, mock-threateningly.
Oliver rests a hand on my lower back and says, “Already taken care of.”
I look over at him. “Really?”
“Five stars in every category.”
I smile up at him, and for the first time, I relax under his gaze. The blue eyes aren’t intimidating me now. Now that I let myself look without darting away, I’m basking in the attention. Oliver stares like a man who adores me.
I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that, but I’ll take it.
I rub my hands together and turn my attention to my best friend, eager to be put to work and to not talk about myself. “What do you need us to do?”
Skylar has printouts of how she wants everything staged, with books and knick-knacks interspersed throughout the displays, along with cards containing book recommendations.
The three of us complete the set-up just in time for the mayor to officially open the festival with the ringing of the bell at the downtown square.
I explain the ritual to Oliver: “Every morning of the festival, she rings this old bell that used to belong to the one-room schoolhouse that stood there on Main Street, before there was a Main Street. About a hundred and fifty years ago, the school got swept away in a flood, and all that was still in one piece was the bell. They repaired it, and now it lives in front of the town hall, and every time there’s a festival, the mayor rings the bell and gives a corny speech. ”
To my surprise, Oliver doesn’t appear to look completely bored by my story about the town. “That’s really cool,” he says. “Thanks for sharing that with me.”
The three of us work together for most of the morning, falling into a steady rhythm.
Skylar does most of the talking about the bookstore coming soon to Songbird Ridge, as she should.
I handle most of the transactions and answer the questions that I can.
Oliver restocks books, bags up purchases, stays on top of the intricate displays, and serves as our go-to for snacks and drinks.
We experience a steady stream of customers and browsers throughout the morning, and at one point, a tall drink of water with Oliver's eyes and hair walks up.
“Oliver.” The man gives a curt nod.
“Finn. You made it.”
I stand there wondering if anyone will explain how these two know each other.
“Iris, this is my brother Finn.”
Brother. That explains the resemblance. He’s a little bulkier, though, and has an entirely different type of energy that I can’t put my finger on. He shakes my hand and looks me in the eye. That, combined with the way he speaks, suggests he might be recently ex-military.
But when I introduce Finn to Skylar, something changes on the inside. It’s like his whole body went from the rigidity of a two-by-four to goo. I can see it in his eyes. What the heck just happened?
He braces both his hands around hers for a long, long second while he locks his blue eyes with Skylar’s, hers a deep mocha.
“Lovely to meet you, ma’am.”
I glance at Oliver, who mouths “lovely?” I’m guessing that’s not a word the Harris men typically throw around.
Skylar bats her lashes and says, “Aren’t you precious? Pleasure to meet you, sailor.”
“How’d you know I served in the Navy?” Finn asks with a chuckle.
She smirks and still hasn’t made a move to pull her hand away. “You have that something-something of a Navy man. Let me guess…captain?”
“Right on the money,” he says.
They are still holding hands, and customers with questions are starting to hover and stare.
But this show is so good, I’d like some popcorn.
I lean in to whisper in Oliver’s ear, and he bows his head down to hear me better. “She can pick out a man’s particular uniform like some people can trace accents. It’s a gift.”
“Remarkable.”
With her strawberry-blonde hair, pouty lips, and soft curves, this is a typical reaction from men.
Her sexiness is subtle until you get up close and personal.
Then, it’s curtains. My best friend is a freaking bombshell.
Hell, I might have had a tiny crush on her myself when we were in college together.
Oliver and I let the two of them continue flirting while we keep an eye on the books and handle transactions.
“You have a bookstore here in town? I bet it has your personality all over it,” Finn says.
“Someday,” Skylar replies. “I put in an application to rent a storefront on Second Street, but it’s gotten pretty competitive lately. Plus, it’s going to need renovations. I probably don’t stand a chance, but fingers crossed.”
“I hope you get it,” Finn says. “Truly, I do. I know it’d be a great place.”
“You’re precious.”
“You keep saying that, and you’re going to make me blush,” Finn laughs. “Enough about me. Tell me more about you.”
“I’m going to sell records, too. And maybe comic books. And candles and tarot cards and other stuff that nobody else carries in this town. A person needs to diversify in this economy,” she says.
“I agree. As a commercial contractor, I can’t tell you how depressing it is when I get paid a ton of money to help people make their dreams come true, only to see the whole thing go belly up a year later because they don’t have a plan.”
“I hate that for them,” she says.
This whole conversation has me reeling. Skylar is a consummate flirt, and I’m about to say something to Oliver, who’s standing off to the side, staring off into the middle distance.
Safely out of earshot of my friend, I say to him, “I think your brother is almost as big a flirt as you.”
Oliver doesn’t answer at first, and startles when he finally realizes I’m talking to him.
“Oh. Yeah. Um, listen, I have to go talk to somebody about…something.”
I blink at him. “Okay.” His whole demeanor seems to have shifted, but I don’t know why.
“Sorry to abandon you, but it’s…I’ll tell you later.”
This man is not my boyfriend. He has no obligation to tell me if he’s wandering off.
I smile, even though the thought of him walking away, looking as unsettled as he does, has me worried.
He has the serious, faraway look of someone who has no intention of calling me again.
He’s going to disappear, and of course, why would he call me?
He only contacts me through the app. We haven’t even exchanged phone numbers, so I’m not even a real booty call to him.
“Of course. You don’t need my permission,” I say with a brave smile. “Have fun.”
He quickly squeezes my shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight.”
No kiss, not even on the forehead. But why would he do that? We’re not an item. We’ve only kissed inside my house. Haven’t we? Maybe he wants to keep us a secret.
Or maybe he’s had enough of the gossip in this town. He’s distancing himself because of how absolutely suffocating everyone can be.
During a lunchtime lull in the crowd, I check my phone and casually notice that Oliver has been gone for an hour. I’m passing the time with a stupid game on my phone while Skylar and Finn continue flirting and chatting about who knows what.
I’m low-key jealous of the banter, the giggling, the unabashed googly eyes they make at each other.
Out of nowhere, Skylar tugs at the sleeve of my cardigan. “Mayday!”
My heart stops.
Mayday was our code back in college for when my aunt or MiMi showed up at the dorm when there was a guy in the room. And there was always a guy in the room.
And why, oh why, did my aunt always have to show up, like today, wearing the collar and cross?
I’m no longer a college student and no longer give a crap what my aunt sees or doesn’t see. But the fact that she’s seen me out in the wild and is approaching me after all this time is really chapping my hide.
“Hello, Iris.”
It’s a warm spring day, so today she’s wearing her short-sleeved gray clerical shirt with the starched collar and that super-annoying removable plastic white tab in the front, because she can never let people forget who she is.
After she retired from full-time work, she took a job as a hospital chaplain in Black Mountain.
But around these parts, she’ll always be Pastor Patty.
She served Songbird Ridge throughout my entire childhood.
And by extension, so did I and all my siblings.
“Hi, Auntie,” I say, nodding my chin formally.
Whenever this woman comes around Songbird Ridge, she’s hugging on every living creature who knows her name. Right now, she’s clutching the strap of her purse.
“I hear you’ve been busy up at the house.”
I sense Skylar and Finn talking quieter now, giving me space. But also, Skylar is listening.
My aunt’s choice of words is telling. It’s the house, never my house. Sometimes when she’s feeling sentimental, she’ll call it “MiMi’s house,” referring to my late grandmother who bequeathed it to me.
She never believed it was ever truly meant to be my house.
“That’s right, you probably heard, I renovated the whole backyard, redid the carriage house. I even have my own separate dressmaking studio out back that used to be the side porch. Would you like to come by and see the changes?”
Auntie clucks her tongue. “That’s not what I meant by busy. Who is the man with the tattoos everyone in town is frothing about?”
I play dumb. “It’s an artist’s colony. You’re going to have to be more specific if you want gossip on someone with tattoos, Auntie.”
She takes a step forward. “I was hoping to enjoy the Dogwood Festival for just once—just once—in my life, without having to hear gossip about what Baby’s middle child is getting up to.”
“I’m technically Baby’s fourth out of five,” I reply, wincing internally at my late mother’s nickname.
“I practically raised you, child.”
“MiMi raised us.”
Her stony face tells me she’s itching for a fight, and not here to mend fences.
“Not going to dignify that with a response. I know you never appreciated what I sacrificed for your sake, and you never will.”
I reply stoically, “You trying to take another stab at contesting the will? Feeling like wasting people’s time while lining the pockets of some big-city lawyers, do you?”
“Bleeding you dry would just be spiteful at this point,” she says.
“Auntie, I think that’s the first thing we’ve agreed on in over a decade,” I reply.
“Then perhaps you and I can come to some common ground on the naked dance parties in the backyard in front of God and the devil.”
I am beyond confused by this entire conversation. Then I remember Maddie’s text from early this morning.
“Nobody was naked. It was the guest from the carriage house. Auntie, I’m renting it out for the festival.”
She takes a step forward. “Everyone is saying they saw a naked man in MiMi’s backyard, frolicking through her prized rosebushes. And now, everyone I meet is saying they saw that same man with his hands all over you all morning long right here in this…whatever this is.”
Skylar jumps at the opportunity to market herself. Handing Auntie a card, she says, “Raven’s Books, Music and Gifts. Coming soon to Songbird Ridge. Follow me on TikTok; I’m a delight.”
Auntie wrinkles her nose as she barely glances at the business card, then stuffs it into her purse.
“Be sure to let me know when you open, dear.”
“I sure will, Pastor Patty. I’d love for you to come by and do a cleansing.”
“You mean a blessing.”
Skylar twirls her hair. “One of those, too, just to be safe. Thanks for stopping by!” My friend walks away to tend to something else, and that’s when my aunt decides to really clobber me.
Aunt Patty says, “You may be a grown woman, but your choice of gentleman caller is still suspect. That young man was just seen flirting with Evelyn at the Four and Twenty Bakery.”
“Who told you that?” I’ve been trying to remain blank, but my fortitude is wearing thin.
“Lulu saw him! I believe her words were, ‘He definitely has stuck his thumb in too many pies in this town.’”
I’m too grossed out to speak. And in shock. I barely know this man, so what people are saying could be true. On the other hand, I don’t want to believe it. Oliver seemed so…into me.
“Well, I best be off. I’ll do what I can to quash these rumors, but honestly, if you could see fit to tend to your reputation, you wouldn’t be in such a predicament.”
After she wanders off, Skylar sidles up next to me.
“How come I always come up with a dozen zingers after Aunt Patty walks away?”
Skylar pats my back. “Trauma response, sweetie. She’s a meddlesome worrywart and it’s not worth you wasting your breath on family who doesn’t understand you.”
“You’re right,” I say weakly, barely believing it.
“Are you feeling ill? You look sorta green around the gills.”
I nod. “I think I’m going to go home.”
Skylar studies me for a long moment, then looks over at Finn.
“My friend here is about to take to her bed, do you think you could look after my booth while I walk her home?”
“I’m on it, darlin’.”
Finn’s voice is eerily similar to Oliver’s, and noticing that gives me the heebie-jeebies.
On the way home, Skylar does her best to keep my spirits up by talking about all the special edition books she plans to order and excitedly tells me that Finn has offered to look over her renovation plans.
“…that’s if—and it’s a big if—I can manage to snag that lease. It’s the perfect location, and I’d hate to lose it to an out-of-towner, you know…?”
I’m so thankful for Skylar, who never stops talking until I’m safely tucked in my bed.
“Don’t pay her any mind, do you hear me? You can wallow for today, but tomorrow I want you to take the day off and pamper yourself. Nobody wants a depressed and traumatized dressmaker for their wedding. It’s bad luck! Love you!”
My words are muffled from under the duvet as I mutter, “Love you too,” and roll over to face the wall.
I don’t know what I was thinking, getting my hopes up that this thing between Oliver and me is anything more than a fling.
At the end of the week, Oliver will leave town, and that will be that.
Everyone will have seen us together and go back to assuming correctly that I’m a second-generation black sheep, carrying on the way I’ve always carried on, driving my saint of an aunt crazy, and bringing shame upon the name of MiMi.