“Dance caller.”
“What?” Galoshes said, with menace.
“You would be the person telling everyone at the barn dance what to do.”
Galoshes paused.
“Everyone?”
“Everyone. You shout, they dance. So, shall we try that again? Galoshes, I’ve got a job for you at the barn dance, would you like to hear about it?”
“Yes. Please,” Galoshes said, after a very long moment.
Charlie smiled, and something seemed to soar in my chest. I don’t think I’ve ever felt pride for another person like that. I love that I know how big this was for her, and that I get to see her triumph over it—that I’m the one person who knows she’s just proven how fucking brave she is.
“Wonderful. You’ll make a fantastic caller. I’ll send you some links—”
“I won’t look at ’em,” Galoshes said, and then, on Charlie’s look, “Not because it’s you, just because I don’t do the internet.”
“I’ll…I’ll show you them,” Toby offered, blinking fast. “If…you want?”
“Wonderful,” Charlie said. “Great teamwork, guys. Now, I have to shoot. I’ll see you all in the morning.”
“You won’t be home for dinner?” I blurted.
I realized, from the interested look from Galoshes and Red, that this was perhaps not something I should say in front of all the staff. They knew our living situation, but probably didn’t imagine we ate dinner together every night, because that would be…coupley. Charlie met my eyes for one quick moment and then looked away again. Definitely flustered.
“Not tonight,” she said, already on her way toward the door. “I’ve got three hours’ worth of dances to choreograph with Jerry and the Merry Milkmen, so don’t wait up!”
So much for talking. I sighed, then noticed Red watching me with a shrewd look on her face, and tried to pull myself together.Don’t wait upprobably gave everyone the wrong impression, too. I cleared my throat and asked Galoshes to give me a hand moving the boxes of new coffee beans from the shop floor to the back room.
“This is the ridiculous ‘autumn spice’ blend?” Galoshes grumbled, as we started stacking them. “If one more thing in this shop has ‘autumn’ slapped on it, the whole barn will turn into a bloody pumpkin, I swear. What happens when autumn finishes? Will it be like this in winter, too?”
“Halloween first, I imagine.”
Good to know that Galoshes’s new respect for Charlie wasn’t going to put a stop to the whinging. It wouldn’t be Bramblebay Farm Shop without the constant background noise of Galoshes complaining.
“I don’t know what’s got into that Charlie,” Galoshes said, shifting a box with a very loud groan. “Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, but she’s finally grown some balls, so to speak!”
I froze. Galoshes headed off through the back-room door, turning when she clocked I hadn’t followed.
I don’t know what I said, exactly. Something shocked. Something like,Charlie’s not pregnant, orNo, she’s not, or…the kind of nonsensical, desperate thing you say when the future you’ve just started to dream about abruptly falls apart.
“Oh,” Galoshes said, seeing my expression. She glanced behind her to check the rest of the staff were out of earshot. She actually looked slightly penitent, for once. “I overheard—Rosie did tell me not to tell anyone, and she’s not even twelve weeks along yet. But I thought you of all people would know, what with you two living together and all.”
Well, now I do know.
And obviously this changes everything.
So long,
Charlie Jones
London, two months earlier
It was late July. Jones and Aspen had weathered a wet, argumentative spring together, full of serious life matters—the funeral of an old friend of Jones’s, the falling-out between Aspen and her mother, a problem with Jones’s hot-water tank. Grown-up things, as though they were aging faster than they should be.
Their relationship felt rightjustenough of the time. When Jones’s commitment wavered, Aspen’s eyes would suddenly sparkle again, and she’d tug him to bed, and he’d forget everything but the fun of her. There was something so sexy about seeing Aspen rumpled and laughing—she was generally put together and efficient, but in Jones’s bed, she was deliciously disheveled.
