Page 75 of The Sweetness of Life

“So, have you and Zach talked at all about what happens after tomorrow?”

Well, there’s no beating around the bush with her, straight to the point.

“No.” I walk back into the kitchen and sit at the island, hoping eventually the plant will work its magic on my nerves.

“But you want to see him again, right?”

“I think I do,” I say on a sigh.

“Then why don’t you sound more excited?”

“I don’t know. Everything was great—no, it is great, but I woke up this morning feeling off. All of this is so quick, so unexpected, I feel—”

“Stop right there. I know you, Shelby. Nothing is off. You’re anxious because you like this guy. I’ve seen you do this before, and it’s like as soon as things move out of your comfort zone, you’re sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop. Are you listening to me?”

“I am, but Meg, there’s a large black crow sitting on the table outside the French doors and it’s staring at me through the window.” I glance outside and it’s still there.

“So?”

“You know what this means, don’t you?”

“No, enlighten me, oh wise one,” she says sarcastically.

“Black crows are a bad omen. I know this feeling I’m having isn’t for nothing.”

“Have you lost your mind? Seriously? A crow? Now you’re looking for trouble when there isn’t any. Are you trying to sabotage this good thing you have going? I mean really, you’ve cooked food there all week, I’m sure it smelled divine, you eat outside, and the bird is probably looking for a snack.”

“Then explain to me why I saw one on my first day here and now on my last but not on the days in between.”

“It isn’t your last day, you have one more, and you haven’t seen one other times because you weren’t looking for one. You do this when things don’t seem to be going your way—you start looking for answers to questions or problems that aren’t there. It’s the control freak in you, and you need to stop this. Seriously, don’t get your feathers ruffled over it. Throw the bird a piece of bread, and watch, it’ll fly away.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

I do as she suggested and toss a chunk of break outside onto the back patio. Sure enough, the bird swoops in, grabs the bread, and flies away.

“Is it gone?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say with a sigh. “You were right.”

“I usually am.”

“Maybe I’m overthinking this, and maybe it is because I’m leaving tomorrow. What do you think?”

“I think it’s okay to like him. Not every guy out there is a douche canoe or has a hidden agenda. You’ve worked hard to get where you are. You’re the most beautiful person I know, and I’m certain this guy sees the same amazing qualities I do.”

“I hope so. I really do like him.”

“I know you do. So, what you need to do is get your cute butt up to the manor and go tell him good morning. The longer you stay in the cottage, the more you’re going to psych yourself out, and time’s a-ticking. Don’t waste it.”

“You’re right. I think I’ll invite him to lunch.”

“There’s my girl. What are you going to fix him?”

“I was thinking a smoked sausage and black-eyed pea soup.” I need to use up the few remaining ingredients I picked up at the farmers market.

“Sounds perfect, and then after you feed him his lunch he can feed you his—”

“Ahhh, don’t say it.” I laugh at her.