“What?” she says innocently, shoving a forkful of potato salad into her mouth. “I’m just asking.”
“You’re not just asking,” I mutter, wiping my mouth with a napkin. “You’re fishing for gossip.”
“Well, yeah,” she says, shrugging unapologetically. “You’ve been acting weird ever since the tournament and he’s coming to your rescue with that big wedding construction. Come on, Addy, spill.”
Before I can respond, Brett strolls over, handing me a burger. “What are we spilling?” he asks.
“Addy and her coach crush,” Maggie replies without missing a beat.
Brett raises an eyebrow, glancing at me. “Coach crush, huh? Is this the guy from the Hawks? The soda machine hero?”
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Can we not call him that? He’s just… Dylan. He’s helping me out with construction for a wedding, and I’ll be working on a fundraiser for the fire station, that’s all.”
“Sure,” Maggie says, dragging out the word like she doesn’t believe me for a second.
Brett leans against the porch railing, crossing his arms. “So, what’s the problem? Guy seems decent. The kids like him, he’s good-looking…”
Maggie grins. “Addy thinks it’s impractical.”
“Because it is. He lives in Birch Harbor. He’s got a full-time construction job. He’s volunteering as a fireman. He coaches Little League. When exactly would he have time for… anything else? Especially an old broad like me!”
“And you’re busy. Weddings, festivals, parades — you’re already juggling a million things.”
“Exactly,” I say, grateful for the backup.
“But those are not the true reasons,” Maggie says, pointing her fork at me. “He’s younger than you, and you like him. But you’re afraid of what people will think.”
“Oh, and you don’t trust younger men,” Brett adds.
I hesitate, the words catching in my throat. Do I like Dylan? Yes. But liking someone doesn’t mean it makes sense.
“Even if I did, what’s the point? It’s not like it’s going anywhere.”
Brett exchanges a look with Maggie before turning back to me. “Sometimes things don’t have to make perfect sense, Addy. Sometimes you just see where they go.”
“Brett’s right, you know,” Maggie says, poking the fire with a stick.
“About what?”
“Not everything has to make perfect sense. Sometimes you just… go with it and overcome your fears of ‘what if’.”
I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not. But you’ve spent so much time making plans and sticking to schedules. Maybe it’s time to let yourself do something unexpected.”
I stare into the void, her words sinking in. The thought of letting go, of stepping outside my carefully curated life, feels almost impossible. But at the same time, the memory of Dylan’s smile and how he looks at me like I’m not just another busybody with a clipboard keeps creeping into my mind.
“Maybe,” I say finally, my voice soft.
Maggie nudges my shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”
Those words stay with me.
Dylan is kind. Attractive. Good at making me laugh even when I don’t want to.
But more than that, when I’m with him, I feel… lighter. Like I don’t have to be the one holding everything together all the time. Like maybe it’s okay to let someone else in.
I don’t do this. I don’t take leaps. I plan. I structure. I anticipate every possible outcome, so I don’t end up blindsided.
