Page 20 of Pumpkin to Talk About

Ultimately, I make my way home with more questions than answers. And every time I think about calling Mike to see if there’s any possibility that he might want to give this thing between us a shot, I remember how resolved he looked on Saturday morning when he left.

It leads me to believe that, no matter how much I might want this, he might not. And I don’t think I can take that kind of rejection again. Even if I do fall asleep and dream of him smiling at me like I’m the best thing he’s seen in a long time.

Chapter 13

Mike

I don’t have any kids of my own, but my three sisters all have them. My nine nieces and nephews light up my life. I love when I get to spend time with them.

But mini golfing with Nicholas and Claire is a disaster. They both want the same color ball, and when I warn them that it’ll be hard to tell theirs apart, they look at me like I’m an idiot and assure me that they’ll remember where their individual ball lands. That works out for about four holes, and on the fifth, they devolve into a screaming match. Claire insists hers is the one closer to the hole. Nicholas is sure it’s his. I had been, admittedly, looking at my phone and hoping to hear from Belle, so I have no idea whose ball is whose. Naively, I had assumed they were old enough to keep track of their golf balls if they had promised to do so. I collect the balls and call a redo, which makes neither of them happy, but we are at least able to finish the game.

Luckily, the course is nine holes and not eighteen, so we’re only miserable for the last half. I may have been dumb enough to let them play with the same color ball, but I’m not so much of an idiot that I would win either, so I come in dead last by design. Claire beats Nicholas by one point, and he spends the entire ride home grousing about how, if I had believed him at hole five, he’d have won.

So, when we get home and they both grab their respective tablets and retreat to their rooms, I don’t have it in me to enforce any of Annie’s screen time rules. I’m fun Uncle Mike, not a strict parental figure. They can have at it.

I flop on the couch and check my phone again. Nothing. I don’t know what I expect; we both decided it was a fun night, and it was best if we go our separate ways. But would it be so bad to be friends? She’s funny and unique. I wish I had seen that about her in high school instead of only seeing her dyed hair, dark lipstick, and black nail polish.

Funny how much I’ve changed. Those lips and nails are hot. I might have unlocked a new kink.

My thumb hovers over her name in my phone, but I ultimately decide to leave well enough alone. It was a great night, but I’m headed back to Indiana right after the town’s Halloween fest. It’s for the best.

Instead, I scroll a little ways down and tap my buddy’s name. Trevor’s face pops on my screen after a couple of rings. He must be at work, because the wall of mugs at his coffee shop looms behind him.

“That’d be a cool aesthetic picture there,” I say by way of greeting.

“Yeah, we rearranged the mugs the other day to snap a few photos.” He chuckles and runs a hand over the auburn stubble on his jaw. “They promised we were done with the thirst trap social media posts, but I have a feeling Emery is cooking something up behind my back.”

Emery and Trevor met when she did a series of stories for her online magazine about his shop to help him drum up some business. The articles were my idea, actually, which I never miss an opportunity to remind them. It not only worked, but they fell in love in the process. Now, just over a year later, his shop is doing great and they just moved in together.

“With a jawline like that, who can blame them?” I tease.

Trevor angles his face and half-closes his eyes in what I assume is his rendition of a cover model pose, but he’s so awkward that it just looks like he’s got something in his eye. He holds the position for a second, then laughs at himself. “Anyway, how are you doing? How’s Annie?”

“Annie is good.” I sigh. “I’m fine.”

“Is being home everything you hoped and then some?” he teases. Trevor and I go way back, so he knows how I feel about spending any amount of time in this small town. I call him at least once on trips back here, usually when I’m about ready to move to an earlier flight. Ironic, then, that this time I almost don’t want to leave.

“It’s been… interesting,” I hedge.

“That sounds like there’s a woman involved.”

It’s scary how well he knows me. I shrug. “Yeah, maybe.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” I grumble. I do, but I’m not sure what to say. I like this woman, but I’m headed home in a week? Staying at Annie’s and knowing she’s only a few minutes’ walk up the street is torture? I know staying away from her is for the best, but I don’t want to? Anything I admit is going to make me sound like a sad sack, and there’s no answer he can give me that’ll help.

“Okay,” he says as a bell dings in the background. “I’ve got to get going, but you know where to find me when you’re ready.”

We say our goodbyes. I drop my phone to the ground and lay on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. I’m going to have to strengthen my resolve to steer clear of Belle. That’s the only option.

***

I last three days. Three whole days before I throw all of my resolve and common sense out the window, get in my rental car, and drive to Belle’s house. I don’t walk. If I walk, it’ll take longer, and once I’ve made up my mind to see her again, I need to do it fast.

Plus, it’s raining. I can’t have the water messing up my hair.

When I get there, her car is in the driveway, which is a good sign she’s home. I throw my car in park and run up to her porch. I bang on her front door, then shift back and forth between my feet as I wait. Impatiently, I raise my fist to bang again, but the door opens.