And as Liv and Taylor shared another hug, exchanging goodbyes, a small hit of optimism struck Mae in the sternum.
We can’t wait.
Mae was starting to say her own goodbye, not wanting to take up too much more of Liv’s time on the clock, when Liv put a hand on her arm.
“Hey,” she said. “How’re things going with Dell so far?”
Mae paused. It felt…weird, sharing that they were somehow almost living together at the moment. She didn’t want Liv reading too much into it; didn’t want Liv giving Dell a hard time about it.
She settled for, “Okay.”
Liv searched her eyes for a minute before she nodded.
“I still want you to give him hell, but now that you’re actually here…you should also know he’s been through some shit.” She shrugged, monitoring the self-checkouts. “Probably not my place to share, but if y’all are working together…don’t give up on him, all right?”
Mae didn’t know what to say.
But she trusted Liv inherently. So she settled, again, for, “Okay.” And after a second, “Thanks.”
And then she did say goodbye, and in lieu of fully processing that exchange, focused instead on memorizing the layout of her new grocery store.
The morning went by quickly from there. She drove to a nursery outside Lincoln City to buy two huge ceramic planters, sapphire blue and beautiful, along with enough plants and soil to make Vik proud and her own previous sense of fiscal responsibility horrified.
She hauled the planters to either side of the front door back at 12 Main, filled them with fall daisies. Discovered that therewasa small space behind the building, abutting an alley and a listing back deck, where she could perhaps put a raised bed or two. Inside, she tackled the office, dirt under her fingernails, Jesus’s death party playlist blasting from her phone. She tossed broken furniture through the back door onto said deck,shoved things into piles and against walls, filled one of the trash bags she’d purchased at the IGA, then two.
She dusted and sprayed and organized and danced until her back ached.
And then the first inspector arrived.
She took notes for over an hour, nodding like she understood half the things they were saying. When they left, she collapsed into the one functional chair she’d discovered in the office. Rested her forehead on the wood of what she assumed was Cara’s old desk, which she’d decided to keep.
“One thing at a time,” she said out loud, everything she needed to fix swirling in her head. “One thing at a time.”
And after a few more slow breaths, she picked up her laptop, locked the front door, and went to visit her new neighbors at the Greyfin Tavern.
The bar was dark inside, the kind of bar Mae had never felt fully comfortable in unless there were rainbow flags in the windows, which there decidedly weren’t here. But she braved the walk through the room anyway, greeting the sole bartender with a smile.
“Hey.” She held out a hand, which the bearded white man shook with a small smile in return. “I’m Mae Kellerman. I’m opening up a bookstore right next to you here, in Cara’s old place.”
And the smile fell. Replaced by a dead-eyed stare that hit Mae like a block of lead.
Well. Mae had known this, right? That not everyone was going to be as welcoming as Liv Gallagher and her friends. It was…unfortunate that one of those possibly-not-excited-about-Mae’s-flags-in-the-window people was Mae’s new neighbor. But the day had probably been going too smoothly. A small stumble was inevitable.
The bartender, who had not introduced himself in return, rested his palms on the edge of the bar. Mae contemplated leaving, her face flushing against her will in the face of the man’s stare. But no. She couldn’t let someone chase her away on her first full day in town.
“I’m going to do some work for a little bit. Is there table service, or should I order here?”
The bartender stared a minute more, a small crease building between his brows until he turned away. His hair was dark, his beard sharper and suddenly infinitely less attractive than Dell’s. Which was…an extremely irrational thought to be having at that moment.
“Sit wherever you want.” He slapped a towel across his shoulder as he walked away.
Mae found a booth near the kitchen. She texted Vik, trying to calm her pulse.You ready?
The bartender dropped a menu onto the table.
Mae perused the smudged plastic. The fare was what she’d expected. She ordered a BLT and refused to further contemplate the hard set of the man’s jaw.
She opened her laptop, connected her airpods. Squeezed her fingers to calm their shake. And when Vik’s face appeared on her screen a few minutes later, Mae tried to pretend her eyes didn’t momentarily fill with relief.
