Mama knocks on the door, saying over her shoulder, “You need to talk to someone. And if you won’t talk to me, then maybe Liza can help. She’s been my go-to for years.”
“That explains a lot.”
Mama sighs. “Macey, she’s got her doctorate, and she’s very intelligent. Just because she believes in ghosts doesn’t make her stupid.”
I tap my right foot over and over until a woman with enormous purple-framed spectacles opens the door and peeks out at us.
“Liza.” Mama curtsies and then gestures to me. “Meet my eldest daughter, Macey Henwood. She needs help.”
Mama waves good-bye as Liza invites me inside.
As much as I don’t want my mother around for this, I’m more than a little apprehensive when I step inside the dim hallway. Liza leads me into the front sitting room and instructs me to sit down on her long, lavender couch. She sits down at her desk a few feet away.
“I didn’t come here for a therapy session,” I say.
“Why did you come here?”
“Besides the fact that my mother made me?” I laugh. “I need help with a ghost.”
She nods and comes to sit in a cushioned chair next to the couch. “So what’s the trouble, dear? Too long at The Cowherd Whiskey? The ghosts getting to you?”
“Ghosts?” I try to stand up, but Liza gently presses on my shoulder until I relax back on the comfy pillows. “As in plural? Because I think my life is being destroyed by one ghost.”
“The spirit of Ms. Jane Austen.” Liza’s voice is hushed. “Ah, yes. She’s a powerful one.”
I put my hands over my eyes. ““Whether or not that’s true, the ghost is only an issue because of a man and how he’s being propped up into a goddamn hero by this fantasy-obsessed town we live in. I thought I was doing well with all the changes going on this summer. But it’s starting to feel like one too many weddings.”
“And you’re involved in all of them?”
I can hear her shuffling a deck of cards, and I take my hands away from my face and look over. Three cards lie face up on a side table, and Liza’s shaking her head as she looks at them.
“The spirits are telling me that there’s one marriage in particular you need to bow out of, my dear. I think you know which one.”
“But why should I bow out of Logan and Gigi’s wedding?” I ask her in frustration. “Gigi asked for my help with an engagement gift, and I said yes. I didn’t want to say yes, but I don’t know exactly why that is. I mean...”
“That’s not the marriage I’m talking about,” Liza says. “I’m talking about your own.”
My cheeks flush with heat. “Look, Logan’s eyes are dull now. Ever since he came back from that dumb trip. And, I don’t know, I feel like maybe by not signing the papers…”
“You can save him from doing something he’ll regret?”
Doesn’t sound so smart when I hear the words out loud.
“Honey.” Liza holds the third card up for me to see. “By not signing those papers, you’re delaying the inevitable and sitting in Purgatory. You’re stuck playing that unenviable game of ‘I don’t want him, but I don’t want anyone else to have him either.’ No?”
I sit up straight and nod. “Right. I know. I’ll do it today.”
As I’m walking out the door, I throw over my shoulder, “But dull eyes don’t look good on Logan. I’m just saying.”
48
“I’ve thought about it, and I’ve decided I’m being too harsh. Maybe dull eyes are a good thing,” I say to Ginny the next day.
We’re walking along the old railroad tracks into town, and we’ve spent the better part of the walk discussing the signed divorce papers I have in my purse. The moment I signed them, I knew I needed to get rid of them.
When I couldn’t reach Logan on his cell, I called Wild Ranch, and his mother told me he and Reid were both bringing their trucks to the auto shop in town for tune-ups later today. Not wanting to wait another second, I called Ginny. After we stopped by the bridal salon to look at bridesmaid dress alternatives, she offered to escort me to the auto shop.
“But how can having dull eyes be a good thing?” Ginny says.
