I nod. “Yes. Absolutely.”
“Once you see it, we can have a bigger discussion, but in general, we’re willing to build a contract around the possibility of you doing some of the work that needs to be done in place of cheaper rent on the space.” Hope inflates my chest. “Unfortunately, my colleague is out this week, and my schedule is pretty booked. So, if you’re willing to view the space by yourself, I can give you the code for the back door. We’d love for you to look at it and let us know if you’d like to move forward with figuring out the next steps. How does that sound?”
I’m barely breathing. This is it—the moment to turn back or keep going. There are a million obstacles still to come. This is only thespace. Ihaven’t begun to tackle a small business loan or permits or any of the financial details.
But in a heartbeat, I know the answer.
I bring that small photo on the fridge to the front of my mind. Gramps’s wide smile, that hopeful light in his eyes. His assured voice as he said,This is the one.
And I leap.
Chapter 38
Theo
As I hop out of my truck, Maddox opens one of the crates in the back and helps a puppy down from the tailgate. “Good morning, little lady,” he says, petting the top of her head. The young husky mix’s tail whips excitedly. “Ready to find a home today?”
True to the plan, Maddox and I, along with the rest of the fire crew, are dressed in bunker pants, suspenders, and tight black shirts. We’re definitely playing up the image, but with the crowd already gathered around our adoption area, I’d say it’s working.
Maddox hands the leash off to Margo, one of our other firefighters, then moves to the next animal. We had a couple of volunteers drop out at the last minute, leaving at least fifteen animals that needed transportation from local rescues. It took quite a bit of coordinating with vehicles and crates, but with the added help from the fire department, I think we’ve made it work.
A chorus of yips and barks greets me as I walk past the dogs and carry a small crate toward the banner that reads CATS AND KITTENS, decorated with paw prints.
“This gal’s a little nervous.” I hand the crate to a volunteer from our local shelter. The tabby cat’s amber eyes peer at me from the back corner of the enclosure. “We’re going to find you agood home. Don’t you worry,” I promise before hurrying back to my truck to move it out of the way.
The roads nearby are closed for the parade, and an unbelievable number of people have already gathered downtown. It takes a bit of help from the police department to thread my truck through the crowd, but once I finally get to a parking spot, I jog back the way I came, hoping I have enough time to catch the parade. Maddox and Vivian’s boys will be walking with their preschool, and it’s bound to be adorably chaotic.
Weaving my way to Main Street, I curve around the taco truck and the stage that’s been set up on the south side of the square, where a local band is plugging in their sound equipment. There are booths with small business vendors, and Coffee Cottage has a line out the door. Almost all the tables and chairs Garrett set up are full of people, eating and visiting and sipping coffee, and children are chasing one another through the playground. Laughter and chatter are echoing all around me.
I’ve never seen this many people gathered for the Thimbleberry parade. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance we can actually pull off our adoption goals.
The urge to search for Fable in every face in the crowd is overwhelming. Ikeep hoping I’ll catch a glimpse of her blond hair or hear her laughter over the roar of voices. Her Bronco was back in front of the A-frame when I ran down her street yesterday morning, and I had the tiniest bit of hope she might get a hold of me.
No luck, though. I’m starting to worry about what that means for us.
“Hey, you!” calls a voice to my left. Iturn to find Philip Fucking Anderson beside the puppy corral, waving me over. He’s in a long-sleeve button-down, slacks, and a tie, which looks terribly out of place on a warm spring day at a parade.
Of course he wouldn’t recognize me. We went to the same small-town high school for three years and had at least five classes together during that time. But, sure, call meyouinstead of my actual name.
“Do you have any purebred dogs?” he asks as I step closer. “I want to get my wife a wedding gift, but these are all...” He sneers down at the gaggle of puppies. “They’re not what we’re looking for.”
I have the sudden desire to knock the back of his knees and send him tumbling down. As we learned at the Branch, he looks great sprawled out on the ground.
Clearing my throat, I put as much disdain into my grin as I can. “See, the whole point of this adoption event is that we’re trying to find homes for rescues—animals who’ve been in shelters for various reasons. If you’re looking for a purebred dog, this isn’t the event for you.” I’m actually pretty proud of myself for how calmly I said all that.
But his displeased grunt ratchets up my annoyance again. “Seems dumb. You might actually make decent money if you had something more valuable out here.”
I’m too stunned to speak. My molars grind together. What the fuck is this guy’s problem?
As I look around for someone—anyone—to save me from this conversation, a flash of honey-blond hair catches at the corner of my eye.
My heart trips over a beat as I turn, then it picks back up at four times the speed.
The sight of Fable sucks all the oxygen from my system. She’s glowing in the sunshine—her hair wrapped in those two adorable buns I’ve become obsessed with and a crown of thimbleberry flowers atop her head. She’s wearing a tank top with an open, flowy shirt over it and fraying denim shorts with tiny flowersembroidered on them that show off her gorgeous legs, tipped in her black Converse sneakers. There’s a smile flirting with her pretty pink lips. That tattoo is peeking out at her collarbone, begging me to drag my lips there, and my freckle is on display, like a secret message just for me.
She looks like springtime and home and forever. So beautiful my heart aches.
When my eyes meet hers, her expression turns desperate, and she breaks into a run. In real time, it’s only a few seconds, but I watch it in slow motion. The loose shirt dances in the air behind her, her smile beams brighter, and her eyes get glassier, until her feet leave the ground, and sheleapsinto my arms.
