Henry nodded. “A good thought, Everett. You know, Diane and I could get a picture done. Maybe with Daphne.”
“A family portrait of you, your girlfriend, andmycat?” Everett rolled his eyes. “This makes not one iota of sense, and yet I’m not remotely surprised.”
“You’re just jealous your cat likes me better than you,” Henry said with a sniff. “Don’t worry. Pretty sure Silas still likes you best… for now.”
Everett snorted.
“And there’s lots of places outdoors you could take pictures if you want—up at the campground by the waterfall or over at the fairgrounds with the gazebo. Be real pretty with some holiday lights!” a woman I’d never seen before volunteered.
“And what about the empty office over Hardison’s for indoor stuff?” The man sitting with her suggested. “You could talk to Jen Hardison, but I don’t think they’re gonna be doing anything with it this month. Betcha they’d let you use it for free.”
“I can watch Hazel for you,” Sam, the teenager from yesterday said, waving her hand. She grinned at my daughter. “Discounted rates. We could havesomuch fun. We could go to the library, we can make cookies, we can do crafts.”
Hazel’s eyes widened, then narrowed, searching for the catch. “How do you feel aboutBeyoncé?”
Sam gave an exaggerated eye roll. “Isthere more than one way to feel about Queen Bee?”
“I like this plan, Daddy,” Hazel informed me seriously. “Alot.”
I bit my lip. A dozen friendly faces were turned in my direction, all waiting for me to say, “Yes!” And I wanted to. I did. But also… who the hellwerethese people, and what were they going to expect from me in return?
When my phone rang in my pocket, I jumped up immediately and grabbed my coat, eager for an excuse to get away. “I need to get this,” I said, without looking at the screen. “Be right back.”
I pushed my way outside into the cold, clean air and took a deep breath, then accepted the call.
“Scott. Hey.”
“Don’theyme!” Scott’s voice, sarcastic and familiar, was like a shock of vinegar after a sickly-sweet morning. “Three texts, no reply, I was starting to take it personally.”
In addition to the text this morning, Scott had sent a couple of texts last night. The first, a critique of a photo of mine, had arrived while we were cooking dinner. The second, a follow-up asking if I was upset, came while I was still so orgasm-drunk I couldn’t feel my toes.
“It’s been a day and a half, and I told you I was going out of town,” I reminded him. “I’ve been busy.”
“Uh huh.” His voice was knowing, like he’d caught me out. “You know, you really need to develop a thicker skin, Liam. I don’t know how you think you’re ready to publish a book when you can’t handle even the most minor feedback.”
Considering I hadn’t asked for a critique, and since the picture was alreadyprinted, the criticism went beyond unhelpful into downright rude, and Gideon’s “jealous asshat” comment from the night before stuck with me. I’d never really thought about the dynamic of my friendship with Scott before, and now I couldn’t help it.
Not that I thought Scott wasjealousof me—he wasn’t. Just that his way of giving advice didn’t inspire me to be better at what I was doing. And it was kinda fucked up that Gideon, who had every reason to be mad at me for leaving five years ago and crashing back into his life right now, was all, “Keep going, Liam! Trust your talent!Rah rah!” in a way that made me feelcapable,whereas Scott, who was my easy, uncomplicated friend, sometimes made me feel worse.
Or, maybe I was really just thin-skinned, like Scott said, and accepting Gideon’s praise felt nice.
I ignored his comments and focused on keeping things light. “I’ve been genuinely busy last nightandthis morning. Remember, I have a daughter who enjoys being fed with regularity?”
“Oh, I remember. Hazel’s the reason I haven’t been able to take you out toOrelline,” he teased. “Remember, I was telling you about the orzo with fennel pollen?”
I remembered not knowing fennel pollen was edible.
“She’snot the reason, Scott,” I said stiffly. “I am. Being her parent is my highest priority, and I’m not sure I’m ready—”
“No, no, I know,” he said dismissively. “But you will be. Sometime soon we’ll go.”
I sighed. “Not that soon. We’re going to be in O’Leary longer than I thought. I have business to take care of.”
“What kind of business? And what’s O’Leary?”
“A town in Upstate New York. Tiniest town in the world.” I glanced through the bakery window and saw over a dozen townspeople clustered loosely around the table where Gideon and Hazel still sat, figuring out my life for me. “Possibly fictional.”
“What?”
