“You look like you’re going for a run. I like this look better. You don’t look like a hood rat for once. I don’t know what is the fashion these days. Since when did wearing rags become a thing?” Bud pointed out, eyes addressing my attire. I wore new trainers, athletic shorts, and a hoodie with my hair stuffed inside a cap. “You getting the girl out of the house?”
“That’s the plan.” Mia had finally come down from her room yesterday morning but stayed behind the invisible barrier at the door. Her fever was gone, but her hesitant demeanor indicated she wasn’t ready just yet. “I’m nervous,” I finally admitted, keeping my eyes past Bud and on the turning mill behind him.
“Ah, a woman will do that to you.”
“Well, wish me luck.”
“Luck for the Irish?” His eyes twinkled, and my head fell back. “I know. I heard ya. Surrey. English, boy. But luck is for fools who live inside limits. And you’re a dreamer, and dreamers are worthy of anything but the ordinary. Wish for magic. Love should be nothing less than magical.”
Grinning, I called out loud so he and the world would hear, “Than wish me this magic you speak of, and that I never go a day without it.”
“Thatta boy. Now, go get your girl.”
The smile on my face never faded as I drove up and down the rolling hills of Bushkill. I wasn’t used to the steep mountains with fast, disappearing ledges, and inside my smile was a breath held. What it would generally take the locals fifteen minutes, it took me almost thirty. Cars honked behind me at my slow and cautious speed, veering off the road when a hook appeared to let them pass. Mia’s dad lived in a death trap, but nothing could stop me from making it there. And I made it by eight.
After knocking, the sound of Diane’s voice echoed from inside the home, calling out for Mia as I clutched the bag in my hand. I couldn’t think of the possibility of her saying no to me. Instead, I hung on optimism—and magic.
The door opened. I lifted my gaze.
“Hi,” she whispered.
And I got drunk on that one word. It took me to places a six-pack or bottle of whiskey could never dream of. “Hi.”
“What’s that?” Mia’s gaze assaulted the bag in my hand, and her fingers curved around the edge of the door as if she was prying herself away from me, keeping her feet glued to the laminate flooring beneath her feet.
“Mia, you’re getting out of that fucking house today. You’re putting this on, and you’re coming with me. I refuse to take anything but a yes.” I held the bag up, internally begging for her to take it.Just take it, Mia.
“Where are—”
I took a step forward, and her sentence caught inside her throat. My foot was treading dangerous territory, lodged inside the doorway. I laid my palm over the frame to keepmyselfback, not having been this close to her since the day she screamed into the mountain air, pulling at every string to prevent myself from grabbing her and throwing her into my car. Mia’s eyes momentarily closed before she looked up at me through long lashes. I wanted to kiss her, and I think she wanted me to. As hard as it was, I took a step back because if I didn’t, I would have. And I wanted it to be her choice. “Put this on, love. I’ll wait for you by the car.”
Mia grabbed the bag from my hand and closed the door.
And I couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off my face.
Ten minutes later, Mia walked out of the house wearing the items I bought her. The Adidas shoes were simple and black and white. She couldn’t learn to defend herself in a pair of Chuck Taylor’s or combat boots. Mia never wore color, and I knew she’d like them and the matching joggers, tee, and hoodie I’d found in the woman’s section of a Dillard’s. Her hair was up in a tight ponytail, showing off her flawless features.
Together we looked like we were on the same team, and my smile returned as I pushed off the car and straightened my posture.
Mia pointed a finger at me. “Couples who match are stupid and cheesy,” she said, walking in my direction.
I cocked my head. “Then I suppose we’re stupid and cheesy.”
She blew past me toward the passenger side, not giving me a chance to open the door. If today went well, then perhaps tonight could happen. The possibilities were so close, we could reach out, take it, and mold it into any shape we wanted. But today had to go by Mia’s terms.
The entire way to the restaurant, Mia had yelled at me from the passenger side.“Go faster, Ollie!” “You drive like an old man.” “That lady just flipped you off.” “God forbid I die before we get there.” “That’s it. I’m never letting you behind the wheel again. Ever.”
But we’d made it to Perkins, and Mia finally seemed at ease once the waitress dropped the large plate of strawberry croissant French toast platter, complete with whipped cream and powdered sugar, in front of her. “Tell me about your first book signing,” she said before shoving a forkful of French toast into her mouth.
“You knew about that?”
“Ethan told me about it.”
“It wasn’t the same without you there. You were missing, and there wasn’t much to celebrate.”
Mia laid her hand over my wrist. “I’m in awe of you. No matter how mad or angry I was, I couldn’t help but smile, knowing you did it. You deserve this, and people are listening.”
“Was?” I smirked, “You’re not mad anymore?”
