Page 62 of Library or Lattes?

Pop looked up as a sudden rain battered the roof. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, that rain. I hope we’ve sealed those beams properly,” he muttered.

“I know we have,” said Theo. “We’re a good team. But listen—I’d better get going, Hadley will be wondering where I am. She seems to have taken over as my mom since I got here.” He rolled his eyes. “Even though I’m almost twenty-one, and even though she already has her hands full with two people who need a lot more attention than I do.”

“I’ll drive you, Theo, I can’t have you walking home in this,” Pop said, standing up.

“No, don’t worry, really. I like being out in the rain.”

“Just like Willa,” Pop said quietly. “You always loved a downpour too.”

It felt like Pop had just exposed this invisible thread between me and Theo.

“Another reason I want to go to London.” I laughed. “I’ll walk you out.”

Pop took Theo’s number so they could talk about what else needed to be done with the beams, and Theo and I walked out to the porch.

He was still smiling.

“You’re different here,” I told him. “I don’t know what it is, it’s like you’re more open. Like you’re letting me see who you really are.” I had to speak loudly to be heard over the rain. “And I love it. Seeing the real you.”

Theo smiled and brushed his hand through his hair. “I don’t get it either,” he admitted. “But you’re right, it’s like all this tension left my body as soon as I walked through the door.”

He walked down a couple of steps so that he was standing in the pouring rain. Water immediately soaked his dark hair and ran down his face, under and over his glasses. Then he offered me his hand. I didn’t even hesitate. I took it and the tingle was back, all the way up my arm, through my spine, the back of my neck. I let him pull me out into the street, the two of us getting drenched together.

And I don’t know who moved first. Whose face tilted one way and whose chin tilted the other, but then we were kissing, warm tongues and soaking faces, right there, in the middle of the street.

He pulled me closer, one hand on my face, one hand reaching under my jacket, under my soaking shirt to the frozen, wet skin of my waist. He pulled me even closer, kissed me harder, as my fingers twisted in his hair.

A car horn sent us jumping apart, and I sheltered in his arms as it sped past.

“Do you know what they say about fall rain?” Theo asked, his breath warm against my cheek.

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” I grinned.

“It’s unpredictable. Comes out of nowhere. Changes … everything. Kind of like someone I know …”

And this time, the kiss on the sidewalk was gentle, soft, perfect. And as I stood on the porch watching him walk away, I touched my lips, still tasting him.

8 Lattes

WHEN I GOT HOME, I sat on my bed. But I couldn’t stay still. The look on James’s face when I’d started rambling about leaving after he’d told me I was the best part of his week. Idiot. I was such an idiot. I pulled Mom’s notebook out from under my pillow …

Willa took her first steps today. Not toward me or Mike. Toward the front door. She pulled herself up on the coffee table, wobbled for a second, then just … went for it. Three whole steps before she fell on her butt. She looked right at that door like it was calling her. Mike laughed. Said, “She’s going to be trouble.” But I just watched her do it again. And again. Always toward the door. Never back toward us. Lisa May would say it’s a sign. That Willa’s meant for bigger things than Oak Falls. Maybe she’s right. Or maybe babies just like doors. Either way, I hope when she’s old enough to actually walk through it by herself, she knows she can always walk right back the way she came …

I closed the notebook and shoved it back under my pillow along with the letters that I still hadn’t done anything about. I didn’t know what to think. I was still mad, with James blowing so hot and cold that I didn’t know where I stood, with Lennie still not talking to me, with Pop keeping secrets … What was keeping me here? Even Mom’s notebook was pointing to the door. And that was the push I needed. The one that let me shove all the thoughts of James and Lennie and Pop away so I could just focus on myself.

I guess sleeping on it didn’t help, because I woke up with a weight on my chest and my heart in my throat.

When Pop knocked on my door, I could even tell by the rhythm that he was going to be way too cheery this morning.

“Wills, sweetheart, I’ve got pancakes here, come and get them while they’re hot,” Pop said, and I just stared at the door in confusion. He never made breakfast.

I pulled on some sweatpants and a hoodie and walked into the kitchen. There he was, with Mom’s old apron on, holding a spatula.

“What’s going on?” I asked. Although I knew exactly what was going on. He was trying to make me forget that he’d said anything about Jo.

“I made pancakes.” He smiled, looking pleased with himself. “Well … I didn’t exactly make them. I bought them at the corner store and heated them up …” Pop slid some pancakes onto two plates and I joined him at the counter.

“Thanks …” I said.