The quiet and isolation in my vehicle is the balm my soul has needed. I’m ready to see Emmy, eat dinner with her, and tuck her into bed. But sometimes, we just need a moment of quiet to remind us how loud things in our lives have really been. As I start the Jeep and head to Angie’s, the thought of her famous lasagna already giving me something to look forward to, an idea hits me. It’s an idea that could put my heart in more danger than it’s ever been. Yet, I’m not doing so well working this problem out on my own if my burning knuckles are any indication.
The idea works its way into my brain. Could this year mark a change I’ve needed for years? Perhaps instead of believing the negative words Jenna spoke over me in the past or focusing on what I currently can’t give Ivy, I can dare to believe there’s a better version of myself out there, and if I look hard enough, I can find him once more.
Chapter Twelve
Ivy
Why did I find a sign on my studio door this morning saying that rehearsals are postponed to this afternoon?” Moving my hands over my head, I sigh and pin Grey with what I hope is a pseudo-firm stare. “And why did a large, infuriatingly attractive man arrive at the farm today to tell me—even though we’ve only gone over the blueprints once—that he has already finished one of the sets and just has to paint it? How did he know I’d be out there?”
When I found Jace at the farm where we always build the sets—since there’s no room at the high school when students need the theater every day—I was so shocked that I could barely give him feedback on the set he built.He’s that attractive and that talented. It’s. Too. Much.
“I merely redirected your students to a later timeframe,” Grey says, her doe-like eyes shining behind her cat-eye glasses with only a hint of remorse alongside a fair amount of pride. “And I may have talked with Resin to keep you in bed this morning.”
It would be a shock if my dog were able to obey such abstract commands, but he was extra cuddly this morning, and I did have a harder time than usual getting out the door. “Grey, you didn’t,” I say quietly.
“Oh, I did,” she replies, grinning as she picks up a stack of new books from the front counter and heads to the romance section to file them away. The layout of Marlee’s Books hasn’t changed in years, but Grey and her father have added a sense of wonder to it that somehow makes it feel as if it’s always changing, even while maintaining the comfort of its familiar structure. “I figured you and your boy could use the time together and the sleep. Besides, Resin gives the best hugs. Don’t tell me you’re actually complaining about Jace doing exactly what you’ve been wanting him to do. Aren’t you happy he made the effort?”
I shrug but try to feign being salty, turning the conversation back to Jace rather than her management of my business schedule. “I showed him basic drawings the other day, but he came all alone this morning to show me a finished set, looking better than a Hallmark Christmas movie actor in flannel and with hair that must’ve been mussed that perfectly just to mess with me.”
Grey laughs. “Wow, you have quite a way with words this morning. I think Jace may finally make you see the appeal of the romance novels we stock more than any other genre in here. It’s the perfect setup: single dad, missed connection, boxer, craftsman, broody with a broken heart. I mean, even you must admit he’s got all the elements for a leading character.”
I sigh because she’s right. And even though I know we’ve both changed, and Jace may be too far gone to even want a committed relationship with anyone again, I still can’t imagine not being the one beside him. It’s wild. It’s unfounded. But he’s irresistible.
“Do I hear our Ivy girl?” Luke calls from the back room of the shop before he appears with his glasses perched on the end of his nose in a permanent fashion that makes me question how he could ever see out of them. Grey’s dad has salt-and-pepper hairthat is always slightly disheveled. In short, he looks like a lover of books. Every time I see him, I wonder if he got lost in a chapter or another world, and I want to ask how it feels to come back to the real one. Luke has been like a second father to me. Even though I love my family, his love has been a grounding factor in my life. I’m just as much his daughter as if he were my real family.
I meet him near the book counter, wrapping him in a hug and nodding toward the bag of pastries from Sparrow’s Beret that I brought with me. He nods in appreciation and opens it, ripping off a piece of croissant and waving it in the air.
“Now, what’s this I overheard about an ‘infuriatingly attractive man’?” The bite of flaky pastry gets shoved into his mouth like a chipmunk storing up goods for the winter. He makes an adorable dad figure. You can’t help but want to wrap him up in a blanket or, in my case, feed him pastries. Still, his question makes a blush paint my cheeks.
“It’s just a guy I might be interested in,” I mumble.
“Might be?” Luke stares at me through the reading glasses on the end of his nose.
“Could be . . . probably shouldn’t be, but I met him once before . . . and now he’s back.” I stutter through the words.
“Dad, you know Ivy doesn’t talk about her love life openly.” Grey attempts to diffuse my embarrassment, but is her statement true?
After Jace, I was so disappointed that I didn’t dare speak about what I wanted or felt when it came to romance. Instead, I’d lament as I told stories of my horrible and sometimes hilarious experiences on the dating apps since then.
“I know she doesn’t,” he says, finishing off the last of his first croissant. I brought him two since I’m not an amateur, and he pulls it from the bag. “But this one’s different. Her voice is brighter when she speaks of him.”
His observation surprises me. Luke has never pushed us to tell him things. He’s the best kind of fatherly confidant in that way.
“My voice is different?” I squeak.
“Mm-hmm,” he hums, chewing an oversized bite of a pain au chocolat.
I don’t know if the noise is in appreciation of the pastry, which is admittedly the best thing Lily makes besides her chocolate cake, or if he’s thinking about my love interest.
Luke doesn’t keep me wondering for long. “Well, that too. But Gladys also has the ‘Gen your business’ text thread blowing up this morning. She hasn’t seen you in a couple of days and wanted all hands on deck to make sure you’re okay after you and Jace kissed near the town Christmas tree last weekend.”
I gasp and stare at him as Grey releases a strangled laugh. Her dad’s eyes dance with amusement. Something I’ve been suspicious of for years has just been confirmed. I’ve always known Birch Borough ran an insider information line. A modern-day phone tree, if you will. It just never occurred to me that Gladys would’ve launched a text thread with the so-called ‘older ones’ of this town to watch out for my friends and me.
“‘Gen your business’?” I repeat, skeptical despite the grin hovering around my mouth. I’ve got to give it to her. As shocked as I am to find out that my love life was already talked about this morning, Gladys’ shenanigans have no boundaries.
“Yeah, like generations,” Luke confirms. “Instead of boomers or Gen X, we’re going with a generation known for knowing your business. She even sent a fuzzy picture of the back of your heads. Though I suppose it was more like you two were in motion. I think whoever took it was running.”
At this, Grey bends over with laughter, tears running from her eyes from laughing so intensely.
