Page 51 of The Right Kind of Wrong

Blake thought Monroe would ask more questions about her sister or Noah—welcomed it, even—but she took the conversation in another direction.

“I cannot believe this place is still open,” she said wondrously, craning her neck to look out the window again.

And even though Blake missed having Monroe’s unfocused attention, seeing the excitement radiating off of her was pretty gratifying, too.

“So there is something that you like about this town?” Blake teased, slowing down even more so that Monroe could get a better look.

“I always thought it was the coolest thing in the world, sitting out under the stars and watching a movie. As far as I was concerned, it was the height of living,” she finished, sounding a little sheepish as she shot Blake a look.

But Blake encouraged her, loving the wistful tone in Monroe’s voice, wanting to hear it again. Neither of them had exactly been living life on their terms lately. “It went through renovations recently, but they kept everything the same. Nostalgia is in, which is great for Cypress Falls.”

“I wonder if Maisie’s been here?” Monroe mused to herself, staring at the large sign at the gate, which advertised the upcoming movies. “I need to bring her soon.”

“How about next weekend?” Blake asked unthinkingly. “I mean, if you want to use the truck, that is.” She felt her cheeks go red, not knowing what she was suggesting, really. “What I mean is that if you want to borrow the truck to bring Maisie so that you can sit in the back, that’s an option, too. I wasn’t trying to invite myself.”

Amid Blake’s rambling, she almost didn’t notice that Monroe had placed her hand lightly on Blake’s forearm, steadying her. But when she looked over at Monroe again, bright blue eyes, shining with excitement, looked back at her. “We’d love to go to the drive-in with you next weekend.”

Monroe looked beautiful when she was delighted about something. Her dimple was visible from her deep smile, and her blue eyes, impossibly bright, were trained on Blake.

She found the attention a little overwhelming, if she was being honest, but only because it stirred a longing in her that she refused to name.

Still, for all the things Blake felt like she was getting wrong, as of late, this absolutely wasn’t one of them.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Unfortunately, Monroe was now addicted to Slider’s coffee. And it didn’t seem fair to scratch her itch every single day and not bring Blake one, given that she was the reason she knew it existed in the first place.

But, because nothing these days was without its own conundrum, bringing Blake a coffee left Denny out. And Mary Ann had been so sweet to her on Monday that it also seemed rude not to grab her something.

At that point, there were only three or four other guys who worked in the shop, too, and it didn’t seem fair not to include them when they’d done such a fast job fixing up her car. It also would have been insanely cheap—if they’d allowed her to pay, that is—so she reasoned that she was just making up the difference of what she would have spent anyway.

Maisie had come with her to Slider’s on Tuesday and Thursday, when she wasn’t in daycare.

This morning, it was just Monroe, and she’d gone all out with pastries, too. It was nice to feel like she was settling more into a routine. She’d wake up, get Maisie ready, spend a few seconds staring at the unfinished art pieces that had been delivered but that she still hadn’t started working on, drop Maisie off at daycare, depending on the day, and then head to Slider’s, where they already knew her by name.

Once she was fully stocked up, she’d make the journey back across town to Gumby’s and deposit the large carafe of hot coffee that Mary Ann and some of the mechanics would drink while she, Blake, and Denny would all have their iced drinks.

Her mom had always been a thoughtful person. Watching a neighbor’s kids if they were home. If they’d cooked something cheap like chili, she’d make extra so that she could share some with the elderly folks they’d lived beside at one point.

Only, there wasn’t a lot of extra time or money to go into helping make the lives of the people around them easier.

The catch in Monroe’s throat made her want to cough, but she swallowed it as she juggled the boxes and swung open Gumby’s front door.

She breezed into the waiting room, hands full. “Morning. Mary Ann, can you give this to the guys once you grab yours and tell Blake and Denny that I’m here?” she asked, placing the cardboard carafe and pastry box on the counter.

On Wednesday, Denny had asked if Monroe minded grabbing Gumby an iced matcha latte, which she’d done happily. From there, it had become part of the daily routine.

She’d forgotten how nice it was to have someone like Denny in her life. He never pushed. He was always happy to see her. And he was always thinking of other people.

It was a dramatic shift from her life in New York. With Sylvia, she was always waiting for whatever conversation was on the horizon related to her art or their business arrangement.

For the first time in her life, here in Cypress Falls, she felt like it was okay to just exist.

And she wasn’t an idiot; she knew that networking was essential and that Sylvia had opened a lot of doors for her. She’d told Blake as much, earlier this week.

But that didn’t mean that she wanted to live in that world twenty-four seven. It was what had ultimately worn her down. In fact, it had been a not-insignificant part of why her already tenuous dynamic with Sylvia had fallen apart.

Now, with space away from the situation, she was seeing things with so much more clarity. She and Sylvia had both loved the idea of one another, but in reality, it was never going to work. People changed. Grew. Struggled.