“Well,” Mrs. Jones said gently. “If he calls, tell him his mother’s fit to be tied. And if he doesn’t, we’ll just send him a box of cold stuffing and see how he likes that.”
That almost made Lila smile. Almost.
When Mrs. Jones moved on, chatting with another shopper, Lila stood there a moment, staring at the shelves of pie filling and flour. It felt like the final nail. Even his mother hadn’t been expecting him to leave.
By the time she reached the checkout, her eyes burned.
“Lila!”
She looked up to seeGrandma and Doccoming down the aisle, pushing a cart overflowing with cleaning supplies.
“Grandma? Doc? What on earth is all that for?”
“Surprise!” Grandma beamed. “We did it! We bought the big pink Victorian on West C Street! The one with the porch swing and the tower. It’s ours!”
“You did?” Lila blinked, trying to shift gears. “That’s wonderful.”
Doc puffed out his chest. “Closed on it yesterday. Took a bit of wrangling, but we managed.”
“And,” Grandma added. “We’ve recruited the Jones boys to help us move in. Strong backs, all three. They’ll earn their pie.”
Lila’s smile faltered for half a second, but she caught it. “That’s… that’s great, Grandma.”
Doc nodded enthusiastically. “We’re having a little housewarming once we get settled. Just something small. You know, music, cider, friends.”
“Yes, child,” Grandma said warmly. “You must come. Thursday evening. You don’t have to bring a thing.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Lila said.
Grandma’s sharp eyes softened. “Good girl.”
The couple moved down another aisle, chattering about curtains and wallpaper patterns, leaving Lila standing beside her cart.
She looked down at the items she’d picked up. Coffee filters, sugar, a half-price bag of cinnamon sticks, and felt the weight of it all pressing down again.
Everyone else seemed to be moving forward. Making plans, building new beginnings. And here she was, still standing still. Would she ever be able to move forward?
How long did it take to get over a broken heart?
Chapter Nineteen
The big pink Victorian on West C Street glowed like something out of a postcard. Strings of warm lights draped the porch rails, and laughter spilled through the open front door as Lila went up the porch steps. Someone must have set a pot of cider to simmer in the kitchen. The scent of apple and cinnamon wrapped around her like a hug.
Inside, the rooms bustled with people. Some of the Cookes were there. Tilly and Jack stood near the parlor fireplace, chatting with Grayson and Talia. Regulars from Pleasant Beans sipped cider or hot chocolate and munched on cookies. Lila smiled. Grandma, Doc, and the others had outdone themselves. Lace tablecloths covered every table. Vases of flowers, and enough cookies to feed the elementary school down the block sat atop each one.
Lila tried to smile as she took up the job of handing out mugs of cider, but her heart wasn’t in it. Every laugh, every cheerful voice around her, only reminded her how empty she was inside.
She’d told herself she’d come for Grandma, Doc, and the rest of the gang she’d grown to love. Not because she was secretly hoping a certain someone might appear. And yet, every time the door creaked open, she caught herself glancing that way.
“Lila!” Grandma called from across the room. “Come sit for a bit, child. You look like you’ve been running a marathon.”
Lila gave a small laugh. “Just trying to be useful.”
“Well, stop trying and have some cider,” Grandma huffed. “That’s an order.”
Lila surrendered, put her tray on the sideboard and sank into an old floral armchair near the window. From there, she could see the front walk lit with little solar lanterns.
Tilly plopped down in the chair beside hers. “You holding up okay, cuz?”
