Page 24 of When In Doubt

I think she knows this is the best she’s going to get, because she changes the subject. “What are you doing on Friday?”

Same thing I do every other day. Sit alone, maybe fit in a cry if I’m lucky. “Nothing much,” I mumble.

“Then, why don’t you finally come over for dinner?”

“Valerie…”

“No, no. I don’t want to hear it. You’ve been putting me off for weeks. I’m not taking no for an answer this time.”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t be. I cook enough to feed an army anyway.”

I rack my brain, scrambling for an excuse.

“Sure, maybe,” I say reluctantly.

“Great!” She taps her knuckles against the desk. “I’ve got to get going. I’m helping Donna out with her candle stand.”

“Good luck.”

She hesitates, and I wonder if she’s going to insist all over again that I join her. “I promise your life in Cedar Creek could be everything you hoped for. If you just let it.”

Is this a terrible idea? I look up at the station sign from twenty feet down the street. The bay doors are rolled up and I can hear music and chatter escaping. It sounds like there are hundreds of people in there.

I don’t know if I can do this.

That gnawing, lonely feeling opens up another inch inside me. The pit that never seems to be filled. I could almost double over from the force of it. I want to be with them so badly, but I don’t know how.

I don’t know how to make them like me.

I flinch at the sound as I enter the station and it takes a minute to get my bearings. Each wall is lined with a row of booths, displaying things from around town. There’s honey from a local beekeeper, lino prints, artisan dog treats. Anything you could think of, there’s someone in Cedar Creek making it. I notice that every stand seems to have two or three people working. The convention is gonna be just like this, if not busier. Am I really going to be able to manage by myself?

Streamers hang from the ceiling and upbeat folk music comes from speakers mounted in each corner. But above all, there’s people. People everywhere. Some are familiar, customers from the store or people I’ve seen around, but most are strangers.

I thought that in coming back there would be more faces I recognized, and whilst I’ve run into plenty who I knew growing up, the town’s changed so much in the time I’ve been gone. I suppose it’s only natural for people to come and go, but it’s made for a hard adjustment.

My fingers flutter at my sides, looking for something to tap against. I pull in some deep breaths as I scan the room. When I catch eyes with Valerie I get a thumbs-up and a grin, but she turns away to help somebody who’s come up to look at the table she’s working.

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse a head of familiar dark hair. It vanishes into the commotion around the apple cider stand before I can be sure and I sigh.

“Freya?”

My breath catches and I turn to see Becca dressed in a thick yellow sweater and jeans, her smile warm as she approaches.

“Hi,” I croak, then clear my throat.

“It’s great to see you. I didn’t think you were coming.”

My cheeks flush. Does everyone think I’m some antisocial hermit? They wouldn’t be totally off base, but I thought I was hiding it better.

“Yeah, well, Valerie came by and…” I shrug.

Becca offers a knowing smile. “Say no more, I’m plenty familiar with that.”

I chuckle. “She’s certainly a force.”

“It’s good for us. She keeps us all in line.”