Thebreath of relief whooshed out of me and into the speaker. “Oh, thankGodI didn’t make you gay,” I laughed nervously. “How the hell was I with you forthat long and not realize it?” I shook my head at the irony of my life. “I havea really bad habit of not seeing the shit right in front of me.”
“Listen,that’s my fault—notyours,” he insisted. “I had been suppressing myfeelings for a long time. You were the first and only woman that I feltanykind of attraction to whatsoever and that made me feel like you wereThe One,and I went with it. But obviously, it didn’t last, and I couldn’t control theurge to be who I truly was. But I should have broken things off with you before… before …” He coughed, dislodging the words from his throat. “Anyway, I’msosorry that I put you through all of this, Holly. I can’t say it enough. I hopedso badly that you were somewhere out there, living the fucking life after I wasout of the picture. Have you been seeing anybody, at least?”
Ifelt my walls crumble, and I spilled every last bean I had. I told him aboutthe loss of my job at the magazine, my life at Liz’s house, my friendship withEsther, the dates I had been on, my brief relationship with Ben, and then, Ilaughed in disbelief at the shortsomethingwith Brandon who just sohappened to be B. Davis. Stephen had remained more or less a silent listeneruntil I mentioned the name of his favorite author, and he broke out in a fanboyfrenzy.
“Holyshit, you’re kidding, right?”
“No,I’m not kidding,” I laughed, shielding my eyes with a hand as I flopped againstthe pillows.
Hollyfreakin’ Hughes and Stephenfreakin’Keller. Best friends forever.
“Oh… my …God,” he breathed. “Anthony!” I giggled like a nerve-strickenteenager as Stephen ran to gush to his fiancé about my whirlwind romance with acelebrity, and one the two of them apparently lusted over in the most surrealway. “Holly, you need to spill those details and you need to do itrightnow. But I have to warn you, whatever you saywillbe used in ourbedroom later on.”
Ilaughed as my cheeks were set on fire. “Stop it! I’m telling you nothing!”
Anthonyspoke up, revealing that Stephen had at some point put me on speakerphone.“Would it help at all if we came over with a nice big bottle of Pinot? I don’tmind a little train ride if you’re going to paint me a very pretty picture ofthat man’s body.”
“Ooh,did you take pictures? Pictures woulddefinitelybe worth the trip,”Stephen chimed in, sounding downright giddy.
“Okay,there are no pictures and as tempting as the Pinot sounds, this is still alittle much for me to handle right now. Baby steps, guys,” I finally said,putting a stop to the playful digging into my personal life. Too soon.
“Okay,fine,” Stephen sighed, taking me off speakerphone, “but when this is alla very natural thing for you, youwillshare with the class. But anyway,you have to come to the wedding.Pleaselet me put you on the list,” hebegged, and I thought about declining, regardless of the all-around goodconversation we had been having for over an hour. I considered telling him,“You know what, I wouldn’t mind the occasional phone call but watching youexchange vows with the man you cheated on me with? No thanks.”
Butit was as though our romance had never happened, leaving only the friendshipthat was always there, and I couldn’t imagine hanging up and not anticipatingthe next time I would see him.
“Stevie,you don’t even have to ask.”
Hesighed happily. “Good. Now, please, do whatever it takes to get B. Davis asyour plus-one.”
Andwith that, we said goodnight. Dropping the phone into my lap, I noticed Estherstanding in the doorway with a mug in wrinkled hands. I apologized for takingthe call and she shook her head with a limp wave.
“Somethings are more important,” she said with a solemn nod. “Now, thank Harry formaking that little miracle happen.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
HOLLY
“Come on, Anna Banana,”I called down the hall. “It’s time to go.”
Annaran from her room and I helped her into the coat I held. Mid-February had broughtalong what I anticipated to be the last of the snowfalls, judging from the warmundertone of the breeze that hit us as we stepped out with Giraffe in tow,climbing intoOl’ Rusty. The two inches of snow thatcoated the ground had already begun the disgusting process of melting, leavinga slippery sludgy mess under the tires as we made our way to Reade’s.
IfI didn’t think Anna would have a fit, I would have insisted we stayed home. Butdespite the gross weather, I was looking forward to a cup of tea and a solidhour of reading the new book in my bag—a sure-to-be delicious story about ahandmaiden named Kristina and her vampire lover, Sebastian.
Hollyfreakin’ Hughes. Broadening her horizons.
Turningthe car onto Main Street, I was startled to find the shop owners alreadyputting up their spring decorations. Cupids and hearts were being taken downfrom the windows to be replaced with flowers and baby animals. Valentine’s Dayhad only just passed, but these people wasted no time moving on to the next occasionto decorate for.
Ata red light, I turned to see Debbie Jefferson outside of her real estateagency. I had yet to officially meet the woman but I had heard of her enoughtimes to know she was a snooty boorish woman who seemed to believe she was God’sgift to the town. She was directing a young man on a ladder as he tacked upwhat appeared to be Easter egg twinkling lights along the awning above thewindow and door, and I suspected, judging from his face, that he would jump tomeet his fate the second he had the opportunity.
ThenReade’s came into view. Unsurprisingly, I saw Jessie standing outside the frontentrance with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring in the direction ofJefferson Realty. With nostrils flaring, she turned with a huff to send herselfflying back into the store and I could just hear the berating she was about togive Bill about staying ahead of the decorations game. He would obviously rushhome the first chance he got to whittle himself an Easter Bunny out of a treestump. I laughed out loud at the thought, turning into the parking lot to parkthe old rust bucket.
“So,what do you think Jessie’s going to read today?” I asked Anna, making our waythrough the sloshy mess to the door.
Sheshrugged, keeping her eyes on the ground to keep herself from slipping andsliding. “Idunno,” she responded, and shruggedagain.
Myhand was about to hit the handle when Bill swung the door open, greeting uswith his usual welcoming smile. In the hand that wasn’t holding the door was astack of paper flowers he had undoubtedly cut out himself from constructionpaper. I noted the staple gun hanging from the tool belt on his waist, and Iresisted the urge to giggle.
“Twoof my favorite ladies,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. He caught my glanceat the paper crafts in his hand, and he held them up with pride, confirming myoriginal assumption that he had made them himself. “Just getting ready forspring. My allergies can already feel it coming.”
