Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
“Gee, thanks.”
“Hey, you know it. I’m not stating new facts here. But keep your options open because I think he could be a real champ, if you know what I mean.”
Our eyes lock, and together we laugh.
“We’ll see,” I say, hoping my concession will end the conversation.
But instead of accepting my remark at face value and moving on, she snorts. “You just mom’d me,” she says.
“What?”
“When a mom says, ‘We’ll see,’ that means it’s never happening.” She looks over her shoulder. “Hang on. I need to help Jacinda for a second.”
I exhale. The release relaxes my shoulders, and I lean against the counter.
I watch Val laugh with Jacinda near the coffeepots, nearly spilling a gallon of tea onto the floor. The two of them are so free and happy, and I wish, for just a moment, that I had a little bit of that in me.
They know what styles of jeans look good on them. Neither of them worries that she’s too old to go back to college, despite being nearly my age, and Jacinda has a kid. Heck, they both can probably tell you their favorite colors.
Me? I know nothing about myself. Not really.
I want to be able to pick a red lipstick out with confidence. What’s my 5K time? I don’t know. I also want to be able to pick out a man with long-term-material vibes.
Unfortunately for me, that’s not the sweet-talking visitor from California.
Ugh.
“Are you okay?” Val plants her hands on the counter. “You have a weird look on your face.”
Her voice snaps me out of my head. “Yeah. I’m fine.” I glance at the clock on the wall. “I need to get going, though.”
“Are you headed home already?”
“Ha.” I reach into my pocket. “I have about four hours of paperwork left at the office and then a million loads of laundry at home.”
“Is Ethan home this weekend? Or does Jared have him?”
I whip out some of the cash that Cole gave me and hand it to Val. “Jared is picking him up from school and keeping him until Sunday evening. Or so he says.”
“Want to go out? Do something fun?”
“Depends on how you’re using the word ‘fun.’”
She grins. “I’ll keep it tame for you. Maybe we could drive over to Forest Falls and do some shopping?”
“I’m sorry—did you just use ‘shopping’ and ‘fun’ in the same sentence?”
“My apologies.” Val laughs and walks to the end of the counter. She inserts my cash for the tab amount into the register and then brings me a receipt. “How about if I bring some pizza to your house, and we watch Fried Green Tomatoes tomorrow night?”
I down the rest of my tea. “Deal.”
Val hands me a small slip of paper and my change. I plunk a nice tip on the counter and shove the remaining money in my pocket.
The door chimes as a new customer walks into the restaurant. Val welcomes them and tells them to have a seat. Then she turns to me.
I start to smile before she even says a word. I don’t know what she’s about to say, but I can see her forming the thought.
“I’m not answering if Cole calls,” I tell her preemptively. “If that’s where you’re going mentally, save it.”
She gives me a sigh that’s laced with a growl. “Why do you hate me?”
“Hate you?”
“Yes, hate me. When is the next time either one of us is going to get to go out with a professional baseball player that looks like he stepped off the cover of GQ?”
“I hope for your sake that it happens again soon.”
“Oh, it won’t. The dating spirits chose you, and you don’t even care.”
I laugh. “Stop it.”
“The world just handed you an oyster, and you aren’t even going to crack it open.”
“There’s a pearl joke in there somewhere . . .”
Val grabs an order pad and giggles. “At least call me if he calls you.”
“He’s not calling me, Val.”
“Call me. Promise.”
We look at each other with the comfort that only best friends can exchange.
“I promise,” I say. “I’ll call you if he calls me. I’ll even screenshot the missed call just for you.”
Her shoulders fall. “You’re so mean.”
I laugh and head for the exit. “Talk to you later, Val.”
“Bye, Palmer.”
I push open the door and step into the fresh spring air. The breeze is laced with the scent of pine and rain. I pause to fill my lungs with the loveliness.
Spring is my favorite season. It always has been. It has such a promising vibe, with its colorful blooms and longer days with a brighter sun. But it also signifies something deeper: hope.
It signals a fresh start—a clean house, new flowers, a new chance at life.
“Let’s hope this turns out to be the best season of my life,” I say as I head to my car.
I’m almost to the driver’s-side door when my phone vibrates in my purse. I can feel it against my thigh.