7
Martin was waving goodbye to the mystery writers group when Penny bustled into the store, a broad smile on her face. Dread filled Martin. He’d managed to forget about his impending death-by-MC over the last few days.
“Good afternoon.” Penny bubbled as she dropped a stack of papers on the counter. She fished around in a large satchel, digging for something buried deep inside. “I need some help. Mom wants me to take some measurements. She’s worried about seating. Can you give me a hand?” She snapped the end of a tape measure just beneath his nose.
They moved around the space, holding opposite ends of the tape measure, and pausing while Penny made notes.
“So how are you doing? Enjoying Seacroft?” she asked.
“It’s different. I’m used to the small community of the college where I used to work.”
Penny’s laugh shook dust from the closest shelves. “There’s somewhere smaller than Seacroft?” Her smile dimmed as Martin tried to stammer an explanation. “Sorry. I’ve lived here my whole life. It always seemed so tiny when I was growing up. Nosey neighbors and everyone all up in everyone else’s business. “
“Everyone I’ve met so far is pretty nice.” A few didn’t even make his heart feel like it might leap out of his chest when they came into the store.
“Oh, they’re nice. But I thought I’d move away when I grew up, start somewhere new and exciting. Then I met my husband, and the diner was always his dream. So I trusted that this was the right place for us, warts and all.” She sighed happily, staring out the big front window, and Martin envied her.
Warts and all. Martin had nearly choked on his dinner when Seb made the joke about sleeping with students. Up until then, he’d been having a nice time, and Seb probably hadn’t meant anything by it, but it was several heartbeats too close to the truth.
What would Seb have said if Martin trusted him enough to tell him the whole story, even the warts?
“That’s a lot of faith to put in one person.”
Penny give him a knowing look and tugged at one of her pink seashell earrings. “I’m not a religious person. But I do believe things happen for a reason. When Tim said he wanted to stay in Seacroft, I cried for a week straight. He was miserable too, so I don’t want to make it sound like he forced me into anything. But I took a chance. He asked me to trust him, and I did. Not every day was a good one, but now, five years later, the diner is always busy, we’ve got two little boys, and I think it’s going to be all right.”
Martin gave her a smile. Letting someone have that much control felt impossible. “What would you have done if you’d realized you had to leave? Or if the diner hadn’t worked out?”
She shrugged and gave his arm a pat. Penny couldn’t be any older than he was, but the gesture was so maternal. No one had looked after Martin like that in years.
“Tim says we can’t worry about what might happen, only what’s in front of us, and he’s right. If we’d worried about the future when we were starting out, we wouldn’t have opened for business that first day. And if we make a mistake—and trust me, we’ve made lots—then the next day, we try again.”
Something in his chest uncoiled. Try again. He felt like he had tried every option available to him in the last few months, but what had he actually done? He’d taken the job at Dog Ears because it was easiest and safest. He still hadn’t talked to Brian about the scene with Jess. Things at the house were tense. Brian spent a lot of nights out, and Martin mostly avoided him when they were both home, instead choosing to eat by himself and go to bed early. He had nowhere else to go, but he wasn’t doing much to make himself at home in Seacroft either. There were too many things he wasn’t talking about.
The afternoon in the bookshop got quiet again. Martin used Seb’s Wi-Fi to wander the internet and check the Mount Garner website. It was the same as always, with smiling students and promises of academic excellence. Nothing had changed. Martin was gone, and there was no outward sign that it made any difference.
“Goddammit!”
Seb’s shout broke the silence, followed by heavy footsteps on the stairs. More crashes sounded as books fell from a shelf somewhere deep in the store.
Martin hurried to inspect. Just like the first time they’d met, Seb had his back to him, flinging books from the shelves like an angry blond apparition.
“Can I help you?” Martin asked.
Seb glared at him over his shoulder. “You could find me something that isn’t going to break my heart.”
Seb’s heart seemed pretty well defended.
“Tough day?”
Seb bent, shuffling through the books at his feet until he found one toward the bottom and flung it at Martin. The pages fluttered. This time, Martin was prepared for the lightness when he caught it. He opened it to find a black-and-white photo of a man in a very small pair of swim trunks, carved out from the pages around him.
“Not your type?” Martin asked, which begged the obvious question of who Seb’s type might be. Martin flushed. Whatever the answer, Seb’s type was definitely not failed professors who could barely keep themselves on an even keel.
“Look farther back.” Seb resumed pulling books off the top shelf and flipping through them before tossing them to the floor in disgust.
Martin did as he was told. Behind the man was a woman in what looked like a knitted cape and a pointy hat. Then after that a couple on a moped. “This is really cool.”
Seb snorted. “Keep going.”
