Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
PEARL
A few days later, Pearl kneaded a pile of sticky dough like it was her personal bitch as Reed jaunted in with armfuls of groceries.
They still hadn’t talked about The Massage.
The one when she’d been near an orgasm from humping his fucking leg.
Her nipples hardened as she remembered how hot it’d been.
Probably should have worn a bra this morning. Whoops.
They’d just gone about their work, pretending as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
“Morning,” he called, tossing the bags onto the kitchen island. He was vibrating with excitement. “New recipe?”
“I’m still trying to figure out this dupe recipe. I promised AB I’d make her a classic Wonder Bread sandwich for her first day of school, and the yeast is being a little bitch.”
“I went to the health food store over in Elliottsville,” he said, pulling out bags and containers. “I saw you were low on xanthan gum, tapioca flour, applesauce, and guar gum, so I picked some up.”
He pushed the big containers toward her and started unpacking his groceries.
Her dough-covered hands stopped mid-punch.
“ Why ?”
It had come out like the fuck? but only to disguise how much it touched her.
“I noticed you were out.” He shrugged, putting milk and gluten-free bread in the fridge.
Shit, did she have enough money to cover it? That store was great but expensive. “Let me get my wallet.”
“Pearl, it’s no big deal. You don’t need to pay me back. Plus, look what I picked up.”
He held up a sign. It said “No gluten or nuts inside. Thanks for understanding.”
“It’s for the store,” he said with a bright smile. “I wanted to make sure AB and parents with kids who have nut allergies feel comfortable touching the books. We’ll put it in the window just in case. Oh, I also got you this tablecloth, if you decide to do the Firefly Festival. Black, of course.” He pulled it out of the bag and shook it out, holding it up.
She stared at him, still processing the firehose of information.
He got a sign to protect AB?
And thought about my table at the festival?
And…noticed shit like being out of weird ingredients?
He tucked his reusable bags into the closet. “They also had pop-up tables on fifty-percent clearance, so I got one in case you needed it for the festival. It’s out in my car. I know, I know,” he said, putting his hands up in the air as she scowled at him. “I went a little overboard. I’m just excited for you that you might consider doing it. The world needs a Blackbird Bakery, and you’ve helped me a ton.”
“The world doesn’t need me,” she said, going back to her batter. Her eyebrows furrowed.
Her skin was crawling with embarrassment and gratitude and, oh god, happiness maybe? She didn’t like the feeling.
She scowled harder to cover it up. “I mean, Fox and Forrest has gluten-free stuff sometimes.”
“Ah, I’ve never eaten there.”
Right, she’d forgotten about his thing. I figured he would have at least eaten there one time though, kind of a shame.
He pulled out a bowl and box of cereal. “But that doesn’t mean that your stuff isn’t needed. Didn’t you say that the woman cried when you dropped off the whoopie pies?”
He crunched on the first bite of gluten-free granola cereal.
“Yeah.” Pearl shrugged as she tipped dough into a loaf pan. “It was probably just the smoke in the bingo hall, though.”
The pan wiggled away from her, and he leaned over to hold it in place. “Come on, I believe in you. It’s gonna be great.” He smiled as he chewed the super crunchy, loud cereal.
I can’t understand how someone could believe in me so much.
“Does the sound of your own eating bother you?” she asked, an idea brewing in her head.
He laughed. “Sorry. Is it loud? No, it doesn’t bother me.”
“Huh,” she said, her eyes narrowed.
He started walking out of the room. “I’ll get out of your way. Ooh! Wait, let me bring in your table.” He dashed in the opposite direction toward his car.
She glanced at the groceries he’d gotten her as she put the dough in the oven.
He’d noticed.
He supported her and he noticed and he did things like make signs to keep her niece safe.
She peeked out the window, watching him wrestle the table out of his car as his muscles flexed.
A distinct gooey feeling hit her heart as she considered the impossible possibility that she just might have feelings for Reed Berry.
Pearl and Allison unloaded the last of the Cortez/Horowitz wedding flowers into the justice of the peace courthouse room.
“I thought courthouse weddings were supposed to be low-key,” Pearl said, stretching her neck.
“As long as they want to buy our flowers, I don’t complain.” Allison sucked her thumb where a thorn had poked her.
It wasn’t that Pearl hated flowers, it was that they were so fragile. You killed them once and there was no going back.
Not a great match for fuck-ups.
They were walking out of the courthouse when Pearl saw a sign saying “Firefly Festival Vendor Applications.”
She stopped in her tracks.
“You forget something?” Allison said, dusting leaves from her dress.
“Um…” Pearl weighed her next move. What was the harm in grabbing a piece of paper? “You go ahead. I’ll meet you at the van.”
“Ugh, no. It still smells like grape hyacinths in there. My least favorite flower,” Allison said, shuddering. She matched Pearl’s strides. “Where are we going?”
Pearl growled. Why am I surrounded by nice, cheerful, nosy people?
“I just need to, um, grab this piece of paper for Reed.” She grabbed a copy of the stapled form.
“Hi, there!” A man with a bow tie and a short-sleeve shirt popped up behind the counter. “Interested in being a vendor for the Firefly Festival?”
“Uh…” Pearl stalled. “Why do you care?”
Smart, nice.
Good job.
“We prefer that you fill it out right here, so we get them all in time.”
Pearl gulped. Her last three baking jobs had been a big success. Reed was right that the woman had indeed cried when she’d delivered the whoopie pies.
She’d gotten more orders from word of mouth.
She licked her lips, feeling like she was on the precipice of admitting some dark, terrible secret: she might actually want to do something with her life.
“Let me just, um, fill this out really quick.” Pearl hunkered over the piece of paper, her heart thundering in her throat.
The form asked for optional insurance and a bunch of shit she didn’t have yet. “I, um, I don’t have all of this yet,” she said, pointing to the form. “Can I come back and?—”
“Oh, that’s okay,” the man said with a bright smile. He looked like if Mr. Rogers had a younger, sweeter brother. “We’re just trying to get a head count. You can fill out the rest of it at the information meeting in a couple weeks.”
Pearl shoved the piece of paper at him and stormed off.
“Ooookay. Guess we’re walking back to the van. No need to talk about that super weird thing you just did.” Allison jogged behind her.
“Being weird was kind of my thing—” But she rounded the corner and ran into Beulah. Fuck.
She clenched her teeth.
“Beulah,” Pearl said flatly.
“Hellspawn,” Beulah responded. “Move. Belly buttons aren’t allowed to be exposed in the courthouse, especially when there’s a tramp stamp on the other side.”
Pearl fucking loved her crop tops, and Beulah could go to hell. “You know what?”
Nope, nope.
This woman still held the fate of the bookstore in her liver-spotted hands.
Beulah’s eyes sparkled like she was waiting for a fight, just one reason to fuck everything up for them.
“Have a nice day,” Pearl said through gritted teeth as she walked around Beulah and out into the thick air of summer.
Allison caught up with her. “Uh, did a full personality transplant happen sometime in the last five minutes?”
“Just trying to keep it together so she doesn’t ruin Reed’s chances.”
“Hmm, that’s nice,” Allison said as they got into Bloom’s delivery van.
Yeah, I guess I’m nice now .
Hemingway_CanSuckIt
Finally finished book 2 of your Anne (of Avonlea)
And a question lingers in my mind
If Gilbert was in love with her, why didn’t he just say something?
ImpossiblyBookish
do YOU go around telling everyone you’re in love with that you love them?
Hemingway_cansuckit
Such an Anne answer.
Feisty AND defensive.
ImpossiblyBookish
if that’s an insult, it didn’t work
Hemingway_cansuckit
It was not
He was just so obviously gone for her.
How could she miss it?
ImpossiblyBookish
i think she knew deep down.
but some of us are afraid, okay?
some of us don’t make friends easily and would be terrified to lose the one good thing we can count on.
anne didn’t fit in. she didn’t have a good life until she finally landed in this picture-perfect little town where she still felt like an odd duck.
and gilbert was this smart, successful guy who was her friend and believed in her.
encouraged her to go after her crazy dreams.
so she was scared to hope for more than what was offered.
in case she lost what she had.
and, to be fair, she was a teenager and they’re kind of dumb sometimes.
Hemingway_CanSuckIt
For what it’s worth, I promise you’ll never lose my friendship if you admit your undying love for me
ImpossiblyBookish
such a gilbert response
cute AND irritating.
brb gotta go find a slate to crack over your head.
Hemingway_cansuckit
Promise me I’ll never lose you?
ImpossiblyBookish
as if i’d let that happen