“Excellent choice,” Ruth says, holding up the maple cookies. “We’ll make a Vermonter of you yet.”
“Oh. I’m afraid not. I’ll be heading back to New York in a couple of days. Actually, I probably won’t make it into town again,” I say, suddenly realizing this is probably goodbye.
Ruth gives me a sad smile that tells me she’s thinking the same thing. “So soon?”
“Yeah. You know, it’s the temporary part of the whole ‘temporary swap’ thing.” I shrug.
Carol tuts. “Well, we’ll miss you, George. Any chance you come back and visit us? I’d love to bring you into the library for a signing or an author talk sometime.”
Oh. Somehow, I pictured never seeing this place again. But that’s a little overdramatic, isn’t it? It’s not like the town ceasesto exist just because Owen and I stopped… doing whatever it was we were doing.
“Yeah. I might be able to do that.”
“Really?” She is so obviously both surprised and excited that I almost laugh.
“Yeah, here, give me your phone. I’ll type in my contact info.” She does, and I do.
“Maybe we can do it in the summer when my nephew Caleb comes to help out at the library. He’s a huge fan of books with queer characters… Although…” Carol looks uncertain. “He does prefer romance.”
Interesting. Maybe nephew Caleb will enjoy my newest project…
“Hockeyromances, actually. Which I know is really specific, but he seems to love them.”
… And never mind. “Well, I’d love to meet him either way.”
Carol giggles like I’ve just asked her to the junior prom. “Oh! And maybe you’ll meet Owen then, too! It’s so strange how you both spent so much time in each other’s spaces and never actually got to meet in person.”
“It’s a shame,” says Ruth. “I bet you two would have gotten along like gangbusters.”
Oh, Ruth, if you only knew. “Yeah.”
She puts the last of my purchases into the bag. But before she hands it to me, she gestures for me to bend down. Then she leans across the counter and plants a kiss on my cheek. “It’s been lovely meeting you, George.”
Suddenly, inexplicably, there’s a lump in my throat. I am a grown-ass spy novelist. I am not going to cry in the middle of a backwoods general store just because a nice lady is saying goodbye.
“You, too.” I manage. “Both of you.”
Carol gives me a little nod, and then I’m off. But just before I get to the door, it swings open, and Allie appears.
“George is going back to New York,” Carol tells her.
“Oh yeah?” Allie looks at me. “Don’t be a stranger.” She punches me on the arm. It actually hurts a little, but it seems just right for Allie.
When I’m back out in the cold, on my way back to Owen’s one last time, I’m a little surprised to realize I really will miss this place.
I am, in fact, so caught up in my thoughts that I almost don’t register that there is a truck in the driveway.
I do, however, very much register that there is a man on the front porch. A tall blond man in jeans and a jacket and tie under an open parka, pacing the porch in front of the door and running his hands through his hair.
I stop at the top of the driveway.
“Owen?”
CHAPTER 54
OWEN
This is nothow this was supposed to happen. Not that I had a plan, although now I am seeing how that might have been a good idea. I just, wrongly, apparently, assumed that George would be here when I got here and then… yeah, I don’t know. I think maybe I was afraid to think beyond that.
