After reading through the instructions on how to properly erect a tent, Tessa attempted to set it up. If ten-year-old Anna could set up a tent, then adult Tessa could. However, half an hour later, Tessa cursed when one of the poles separated in the middle and the entire tent folded over on her head. She sat on the floor, shrouded in the forest-green canvas, and her bottom lip trembled.
She thought of Anna and Lily and their shocked, worried responses about her purchase of Honeysuckle Hollow. She heard her mama’s voice:I know you’ve had a habit of rash behavior that has led to unfortunate consequences.Hadshe been too impulsive? Was it a mistake so gargantuan she could never recover from it? Tears blurred her vision and dripped down her cheeks. She swiped them away with her fingertips. Pity swooped in like a vulture and attacked her self-assurance.
A rapping sounded against one of the living room windows. Tessa peeked her head out of the collapsed tent and saw Paul’s hands and face pressed to the window. When he saw her, a silly grin stretched across his face, and he lifted what looked like a paper sack.
“I brought dinner,” he shouted through the glass, pointing toward the bag.
She crawled out of the tent and raked her fingers through her hair. “Hi,” she said, opening the door. She could barely make out his facial features in the dim orange glow from the streetlights, but even his silhouette was a welcome sight.
“I come bearing gifts,” he said, handing the bag to her.
The brown sack felt warm in her hands. She inhaled the scents of gooey cinnamon rolls, crisp bacon, and melted cheese. Tears filled her eyes again. “This is a surprise.” Tessa stepped out of the doorway and motioned for him to come inside. In the shadow of the door, she wiped her eyes. “Enter if you dare.”
Paul walked inside and stood in the archway leading to the living room. They both stared at the green blob of fabric that should have been a cozy, two-person tent. “You know I was an Eagle Scout, right? I can probably whip that into shape in about five minutes.”
“Have at it,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I had already accepted that it would be used as a blanket for the evening.”
Paul chuckled. “Mom and Dad wanted to come upstairs to say hello tonight, but they didn’t know you’d moved out. I told Mom that you’d decided to push the limits of your outdoorsy nature. She thought I was kidding. Once I convinced her you had, in fact, abandoned me, she insisted I bring you food since you’d decided to live in a—a new place.”
“A dilapidated mansion?” Tessa asked, able to smile for the first time in hours. As much as she had tried avoiding Paul, she didn’t want to anymore. Just being in the room with him caused her shoulders to lower from her ears and her breathing to deepen.
“‘Dilapidated mansion’ were not her exact words, but the meaning is similar.” Paul removed his backpack and knelt in front of the tent.
Tessa picked up the stapled booklet she’d removed from the tent box. “You want the instructions?”
“Don’t need them,” he said. “I brought silverware, plates, and cups.” He pointed over his shoulder toward his backpack.
Tessa sat on the floor and opened Paul’s pack. “It’ll almost be like a picnic.” Her eyes widened when she removed a bottle of honeysuckle wine and a corkscrew.
He slid one metal pole through a loop of fabric. “From Mom,” he said when he saw her holding the wine bottle. “One of her customers makes it locally. She said it would be perfect for the house and would dull your senses after you realize what you’ve done.”
Tessa would have been offended if Paul hadn’t winked at her in the lamplight. “Thank you,” she said. “For the food and the wine and the Eagle Scout assistance.”
He slid another pole into place. “It gives me something to do. The apartment is too quiet. There’s no one there to argue with or to make me poisonous food.”
“Aww, you missed me?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“Who wouldn’t?”
Tessa stopped unpacking the food. She wanted to remember that one second when her heart quivered because someone missed having her around. And not just anyone, but Paul.
Paul lifted a pole and paused, stopping to look at Tessa. “I mean it. It’s too quiet without you, and not just the lack of having someone to talk to. Not havingyouaround feels all wrong.” His brow furrowed. “Which is odd, admitting that, because I haven’t spent much time with any one person in years. Until you.” He focused back on the tent.
Tessa was at a loss for words, so she finished pulling food from the paper sack, marveling at all the choices Cecilia had given. There were cinnamon rolls, waffles, bacon, sausage, a container of blackberry cobbler, and breakfast turnovers filled with eggs, cheese, and spinach. She placed two bottles of Coke and two of water beside the food. Even with Tessa’s ravenous appetite, it was enough food for a family. “This is too much.”
“You’ve seen me eat, and I’ve seenyoueat.” With a swift pop, the tent spread and locked into place. Tessa clapped. Paul bowed. “It would have been embarrassing if that hadn’t worked.” He sat beside her on the floor and studied her face.
Tessa busied her hands unwrapping the silverware and napkins. When she glanced up, he was still looking at her. “What?”
His pale-blue eyes filled with gentleness, almost enough to unravel her. “You’re upset.”
Her hands stilled. “Not at the moment.”
“But you were.”
She passed Paul a plate. “I’ve had one of those days.”
“Care to elaborate?”
