Page 81 of Autumn on My Mind

“What—the potluck?” he says with a frown.

I nod as a breeze whooshes past and pushes my hair into my eyes; tucking it behind my ear, I speak again. “She says your dad thinks it would be fun for our families to get together.”

Dominic’s expression is grim now. “I’m not sure fun is the word I would use.”

“Me either.” I swallow. “She also says she can see what your dad means when he says families should spend time together.”

An exhale issues from Dom, slow and measured, as his features tangle into something less certain.

“But we’re supposed to be breaking them up, not getting together with them,” I go on.

He glances at me, adjusting his hat. “Well…” There’s debate in his eyes, and then he shrugs. “I was sort of planning on going anyway. You know the food is always good.”

I bite my lip.

“And you do love dessert.” His voice is expectant, leading. “Especially pumpkin desserts…”

“I love pumpkin desserts!” I burst out. “And Patty Keller brings a pumpkin roll every year and it’s always so good!”

“No one does a pumpkin roll like Patty,” he says with a nod; the feather necklace around his neck shifts with the movement, but I force myself not to look. “So should we go and see what happens? It won’t hurt anything.”

He’s right. It won’t hurt anything. So I nod too. “Yeah,” I say. “Let’s do it.”

Dom slaps his knees and then stands up slowly, shaking his arms and legs like he’s an old man who’s been sitting too long. “I’ve got to go,” he says, rolling his shoulders. “The festival waits for no man.”

“That’s fine,” I say, and I stand too, glancing at my sweater to make sure all of my pumpkin face is still attached. Then I gesture to the lively goings-on around us. “I need to get back to all the pumpkin stuff. I left Joe by himself.”

“I’ll see you tonight, then,” he says as he heads off.

But I almost trip over my own feet. “What?”

He stops and turns back to me, folding his arms slowly and raising his eyebrows. “You’re staying in my shed, Berkeley. I’m sure we’ll see each other around.” He pauses. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

But there’s laughter in his voice and mischief in his eyes as he looks at me. My gaze drops to the feather necklace; when he sees this, he smirks, tucks the necklace back under his shirt, and then waves over his shoulder as he walks away.

When I return to Dom’s house after Pumpkin Day is over, I’m breathing a bit easier about tomorrow’s potluck. A new worry finds me soon enough, though—because I really, really need to shower.

I let myself into the shed and look around for a second, not sure what to do or where to be; finally I sit down on the lumpy sofa and sink back into the cushions with a sigh of relief. Then I pull out my phone.

I bite my lip as I stare at it, debating. Dominic said I could come use the shower in his house, but that idea is a little…scary? Intimidating?

The alternative is to go back to Nathan’s or to wash myself in a river. Since I am not a river-washing kind of girl, and since going to Nathan’s requires driving somewhere rather than walking across a single yard, in the end I decide to give Dominic’s shower a try.

Dialing his number—which I absolutely do not have memorized—I bounce my foot and ignore the butterflies taking flight in my chest. It’s just a shower, a quick trip inside the house. I wanted to see more of the interior anyway.

This will be fine.

“Berkeley.”

I startle when he answers the phone. “Hi,” I say quickly, straightening up like a prairie dog. “Hello.”

“Hi,” he says, and there’s faint amusement in his voice.

“Uh, I was hoping I could use your shower. If that’s okay,” I add.

“I said you could, didn’t I?” he says, and some of the tension drains from my shoulders. “I’m home”—I already know this, because his truck is parked in the driveway—“but I’m working on some stuff in the kitchen. The back door should be unlocked. Let yourself in. Up the stairs, first door on the left. It’s probably open.”

“Great,” I say, picturing him in his kitchen working on a clogged sink or a broken fridge. “No bleach in any of your shower bottles?”