Page 56 of Comfort Read

Kit scowls at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t like Jeanette, either! Nobody likes Jeanette, because she’s horrible⁠—”

“What about Molly?”

“She stole all your underwear! And sold it! On Facebook!”

“God, I forgot about that,” Allison mutters, making a face like she’s bitten a lemon. “Fine, I’ll give you that one. But you hated Suzanne, and everyone likes Suzanne⁠—”

“Suzanne called my sister a bitch to her face,” Kit says fiercely, “and I swore eternal brotherly hatred for her from that moment on. And you knew that going in. I warned you on day one!”

Smiling slightly, though with an air that suggests she’s doing it in spite of herself, Allison shakes her head and says, “They were eleven years old when she said it, Kit. I’m reasonably sure she didn’t even know what the word meant.”

“Maggie sure did,” Kit mutters, annoyed. “She was mad about it for months.”

Rolling her eyes, Allison says, “Be that as it may, I thought that since everyone involved was well into adulthood by the time Suzanne and I started going out, you might find it in yourself to let it go.”

“Eternal brotherly hatred is eternal!” Kit throws his hands in the air. “It’s in the name!”

“I don’t know why I bother having this argument with you. At this point, it’s Einstein’s definition of insanity.” Allison’s tone drops to a gentler one as she steers them back to the point. “Anyway, setting eternal brotherly hatred aside: I am sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I got in my head about it, that’s all. And then you and Sage broke up, and I was trying to be sensitive, but I realize now that it was maybe less sensitive to put you in this position. I didn’t mean for you to see her showing up here before I told you, or for you to think⁠—”

“Oh, forget about what I thought,” Kit says, waving a hand and hoping he doesn’t sound quite as cross as he feels. “It’s great, and she’s always welcome here, and I understand why you didn’t tell me before. Anyone’s better than Jeanette. Or Suzanne.”

Allison gives him a hug and then hurries to the front to greet Frankie. As Kit watches them from the counter, a hollow feeling in the pit of his gut, he’s not sure he meant what he said. He might take Suzanne over this. At least seeing Allison with her only stirred up the impotent rage of a grudge on behalf of his sibling; watching Frankie loop her arms around Allison’s waist and give her a thorough kiss hello feels a lot worse than that. How often is she going to be here, wooing Allison, reminding Kit of the thin but impenetrable layer between himself and the man he lost? His mental equilibrium is delicate these days, and depends heavily on being able to put Sage out of his mind at least some of the time. He’s not sure it can bear the strain of regular visits from Frankie.

But then they break apart, and Allison, accusingly, says, “You weren’t supposed to be here ’til Thursday!”

Frankie grins up at her, warm and slightly impish. “Something came up.” To Kit’s surprise, she turns towards him and adds, “Word to the wise: You should probably go outside.”

“What, so you can defile my bookshop?” Kit, slightly scandalized at this new side of Frankie, lowers his voice to hiss, “I’m not trying to kink-shame, but we have enough problems here without adding a public indecency charge⁠—”

“We’re not going to defile your bookshop, Kit,” Frankie says, rolling her eyes. “Just go outside, okay? Trust me.”

His heart pounding, half-sure his nervous feet are going to miss a step and send him sprawling, Kit goes outside.

There’s nothing there except the usual collection of customer cars and the small pile of dirty snow that will mark the edge of the parking lot all winter. Wishing he’d grabbed a jacket, he pulls his arms into the sleeves of his Reading Is Sexy hoodie, huddling them close to his body, and wonders how long he’s supposed to wait. Frankie doesn’t seem like the type to play practical jokes, but she is very loyal to Sage—maybe this is just a ploy to give him revenge pneumonia? It doesn’t seem likely, especially since she’s apparently Allison’s girlfriend, and Kit falling ill would limit Allison’s free time. Is there some sort of message for him painted on the town car? No; all he sees when he looks that way is Eleanor sitting in the driver’s seat.

She beams at him, a far brighter and more genuine smile than she’d offered the last time he saw her. His heartbeat picks up again, pulse pounding in his ears—she wouldn’t have come here just to drive Frankie around. Would she?

He fixes his eyes on the back door, trying desperately to peer through the tinted windows in case Sage is sitting inside. He’s so busy looking that he hardly notices the huge white van pulling into the lot, the words Cedar Falls Public Works Department printed along one side. His ears don’t even register the sound of its passenger door opening, then slamming shut.

But the words, “Hi, Kit,” and the familiar voice that says them: those, Kit hears. He’s not sure he’s ever heard a more beautiful sound in all his life.

He turns, heart in his throat, to see Sage walking towards him.

TWENTY-FOUR

“Oh,” Kit says, blinking so rapidly he’s afraid his eyes might fly out of his skull. “It’s you.”

The hesitant look on Sage’s face blooms out into a smile, huge and warm and happy. “Yeah, it’s me. Were you expecting someone else?”

“No,” Kit breathes, as Sage steps close enough to touch. “Or, I mean—I wasn’t expecting anyone, but I really wasn’t expecting you. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever see you again. Except, like, on television, maybe, or in your old movies—not that I’ve been watching your old movies. That would be very pathetic! I’ve only been, like… medium pathetic, at worst, I swear. Some days I’ve hardly been pathetic at all, though I recognize that my behavior right now probably isn’t super convincing on that⁠—”

“Kit,” Sage says, reaching out a hand to rest on Kit’s bicep. He squeezes, the pressure as gentle as his voice when he says, “Stop talking.”

“Right,” Kit says faintly. “Good call. The talking isn’t going well.”

They stare at one another for a beat, Sage still smiling, Kit distantly aware that he should stop gaping at Sage like he’s some sort of supernatural creature. He manages, with an effort, to compose his face into something approximating a normal expression, and then ruins it immediately by saying, “Sorry, you said to stop talking and that was great advice, but… what are you doing here? Are you here to get Frankie? Because, just FYI, I got the sense that you might need reinforcements to tear her away from Allison right now.” Dimly, he registers that a number of other people, all holding clipboards, have climbed out of the van as well. “Oh. Well. I guess… you brought some?”

“I’m not here for Frankie,” Sage says. His thumb rubs a brief, soothing circle over Kit’s arm as he turns his head and, with his other hand, waves to the assembled. “You guys go ahead and get started, yeah? It’s not like you need me for this part.”