At a respectable hour, Teddy had deposited me back at my door, soaked with rain and shivering, and promised to meet me first thing in the morning. I didn’t think my mother was awake. If I had, I wouldn’t have thrown myself into his arms like a lovestruck fool and demanded one more kiss before he drove away.
The concerning sparkle in my mother’s eyes at the breakfast table told me all I needed to know. She slid me a plate of pancakes and looked at me expectantly, as if the price for carbs was information.
I groaned and dropped my flaming face into my hands. “Just say it.”
She made a noise of glee and slipped into the seat across from me. “I know I’m not s’posed to say, ‘I told you so’.” A short pause, then: “But I told you so.”
“What exactly did you tell me?” I muttered, shoving a piece of pancake in my mouth.
“That you should’ve never let that boy go,” she replied matter-of-factly.
My fork clinked against the plate as I dropped it with a sigh. I’d forgotten about the certain false rumor I allowed to circulate to save my wounded ego.
“Well, that’s the thing,” I said slowly, already detesting the taste, “Hebroke up withme.”
Her mouth fell open and snapped shut like a fish out of water. I stabbed the rest of my flapjack and stared at it miserably. Maybe I could just tell the town’s biggest gossip, Dot, and stick my head in the sand until the embarrassment subsided.
“Then I can’t have you datin’ him,” she concluded with all manner of certainty. Tapping her pen against the table, she stared off into the distance as she added, “Seems he doesn’t have the good sense God gave a goose.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t even know if we’redating. And besides, I’m twenty-five.”
The words sent a surge of acid through my stomach. I’d given him my heart, and I wasn’t even sure what that meant. Where did we stand? What could our future look like when I didn’t even know my own? My chest began to tighten and I reached for a long sip of water.
“That’s neither here nor there. I can’t abide my only child lovin’ a fool.”
“He’s not a fool, Mom,” I replied.
She scoffed. “He let you go, didn’t he?”
I couldn’t help the tiny grin that cracked across my face. “Don’t you have work? It’s eight o’clock.”
“I took abreak,” she explained proudly. “So that I could cook my daughter breakfast.”
Hiding my growing smile with another bite of food, I swallowed and replied, “If this is going to become a regular thing, do you think you could learn to cook something other than pancakes?”
She swatted my hand and laughed.
When my mother returned to the diner downstairs, I spent five minutes pacing back and forth in my bedroom and staring at my phone screen. My laptop sat open on the bed, staring at me—I resumed editing when I got home and barely got five hours of sleep. The text cursor blinked in a particularly mocking fashion while I muttered unintelligibly.
I was ready for the day in a skirt, stockings, knee high boots and a sweater. Maybe I’d spent an embarrassing amount of time ripping apart my closet for the perfect outfit.Maybemost of my wardrobe now lay crumpled at the end of my bed in a wrinkled pile.
Of course, I didn’t even need to be dressed for a phone call. But clothes were armor, and I needed that more than ever.
The dial tone rang in my ear. My heart pulse fluctuated like a rollercoaster as the sound cut off and the voicemail message began.
At the beep, I said, “Hi, Priscilla.” I pulled the phone away and cleared my throat. “This is Margot. Margot Wade, from Sterling Publications. I, uh—” Why was I blanking now? I’d rehearsed this ten times over. Face flushing, I stammered some more until the long tone signaled the end of my recording time, and the call ended.
I screamed into my fist, gathered a steadying breath, and dialed again. Repeating my greeting, I added, “Sorry for the repeat calls, I promise it’s not an emergency. I just really enjoyed working with you on Celeste Fowler’s series. You might’ve heard about my… career setback, but I wanted to reach out because I have a manuscript you might be interested in. It’s my own. Giveme a call back if that sounds like something you’d be interested in, okay? Thanks, Priscilla.”
Relief rushed through me as I hung up and threw it on the bed. Saying it out loud to someone who could actually change my life felt as if I’d exchanged the giant question mark for a period. The knowledge of possibly falling flat on my face didn’t scare me, either. I’d done it before and survived the damage, so why couldn’t I do it again?
A knock sounded at the screen door in the alley. I could hear it through my cracked window.
An idiotic smile plastered back on my face, I snatched my phone, purse, and jacket, practically skipping across the apartment and down the stairs. When I swung the door open, my face fell.
“Well, I knew it would be a bit of a surprise, but I didn’t think it would be anunwelcomeone,” Serena said incredulously. She hugged her camel coat to her thin frame, glancing up and down the alley, glossy hair flowing in the breeze as she did.
The pavement was still wet from the previous night’s storm. Little puddles decorated the asphalt, glittering in the streaks of sun reaching through parted clouds. A flock of gulls squawked overhead. Windchimes tinkled in the distance, harmonizing with the sway of branches and occasional flurries of leaves.
