After Madeline left, Abby had been restless and wandered around her house doing menial tasks. What if this was a mistake? She wasn’t the type who went away for the weekend with a complete stranger. What if Blythe wasn’t who she said she was? Maybe she was secretly someone else. A middle-aged man.
Abby groaned at herself. Right, and he hired an actress or used AI to make all of Blythe’s videos. It was one positive of content creators over online dating; at least she knew who she was getting.
She dusted the same shelf for the third time before she threw her feather duster onto the couch. This was ridiculous. She was a grown woman who’d been talking to Blythe for over a month. Itwasn’t like she’d just met her yesterday. Abby dropped onto the couch next to her duster.
Why was she so awkward? People called her pretty, or was it just code forprettyfor a librarian? That was stupid. Of course, librarians could be pretty. How had she gotten so caught up in stereotypes?Insecurity.It still baffled her that someone like Blythe would be interested in her.
Blythe was worldly. Charming. The life of the party.Opposites attract?Perhaps some of Blythe’s carefree nature would rub off on Abby, and maybe some of Abby’s practicality would benefit Blythe.
Abby picked up the feather duster and bopped herself on the head with it. Like Blythe needed to pick up any of Abby’s traits.Doubtful.
Was there still time to back out?No!That wouldn’t be fair. She’d made the commitment, and she needed to keep it.
She smiled and stood. At least that was one positive about her. She was reliable.
CHAPTER 10
The closer Abby gotto Chicago, the sweatier her palms got. She’d tried to distract herself by reading, but the motion of the train and her nerves made it impossible. Instead, she’d been staring out the window.
She’d watched as they’d passed through one small town after another. Most looked the same. Many fields dotted the route, mostly corn with a few bean fields interspersed.
She’d smiled to herself. With Blythe being a city girl, would she be able to identify the different crops? Then her mood plummeted. No, Blythe probably couldn’t nor would she care. Blythe held greater interests than whether the corn needed rain or the beans were a bumper crop this year.
Ugh, whyhad she agreed to come?She had nothing in common with Blythe. Abby wasn’t a content creator. Why in the world did she think she’d fit into Blythe’s world?
Abby took several calming breaths. It would have been easier if she’d driven, but Blythe had insisted she ride the train. SinceAbby didn’t want to start the visit on the wrong foot, she’d agreed. Besides, Blythe had been so excited when she’d secured free train fare for Abby, how could Abby burst her bubble?
Enough.She couldn’t think negative thoughts when she was about to meet Blythe. It wouldn’t be fair.
Abby pulled out her cellphone and shot off a quick text.Getting close. I’ll see you soon.
It took a few minutes for Blythe’s response to come.We just got here. We’ll be waiting for you in the Great Hall.
Abby:We?
Blythe:Didn’t I tell you Ricki was coming with me?
Abby:No, but that’s great. I’m looking forward to meeting her.
Abby stared at her phone in horror, then frantically shot off another message.
Abby:I mean…I’m looking forward to meeting her, BUT I’m thrilled to meet you.
Jesus, could she come off more idiotic?Thrilled?Did that come off sexual or just weird?
Blythe:Ha Ha. I’m THRILLED to meet you too!!
“Ugh, kill me now,” Abby said aloud, realizing her mistake when the older woman across the aisle from her glanced at her with concern. Abby held up her cellphone. “Uh, I just made a fool of myself in a text. I’m going to meet…” She trailed off as the woman’s expression went from concerned to uncomfortable.
Abby shook her head. “Um, sorry.” She looked down at her cellphone to avoid making eye contact with the woman, but then her eye caught Blythe’s message. She wasn’t sure which one was more humiliating.
Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against the back of her seat. Slowly, she counted to ten. Why couldn’t she be smooth like Blythe?
Her breathing had steadied by the time the train pulled into Union Station. At least she’d prepared for her arrival. It had been several years since she’d visited the station, so she’d downloaded a map on her phone and watched several videos on YouTube, so she knew what to expect.
When the train stopped and the doors opened, Abby grabbed her bag, and with more confidence than she felt, she strode from the train. She could do this.
Trains arrived two stories under the station, with tracks on both the north and south sides. Her train stopped on the south side, so she’d have to go north to enter the terminal. As she walked down the crowded corridor, the station reminded her of an airport. Many passengers, just like her, carried large backpacks.
