Page 92 of The Scent of Happiness

“That’s not true. People still learn by doing. Besides, you can’t smell the internet.”

Dixie laughed a bitter laugh. “No, you can’t.”

“I’d teach that class if I were qualified.”

“If you were qualified? If?” Dixie pointed to the array of bath products on the table. “Look at this. Look at you. You are twice the soaper I ever was.”

Brooke wondered how this day could get any stranger. First Dixie gave her an apology and then a compliment. What would she give next, a pony?

Dixie paced a little bit away from the table and then back again, as if she were making up her mind about something. “I could contact the rec center on your behalf. You’d be a shoo-in. They’d be thrilled to have you.”

Brooke had a vivid imagination and a creative mind, but in her wildest dreams, she’d never thought of herself as a teacher. But she could, couldn’t she? She’d enjoyed teaching Theo, partly because of the man himself, but also because it was just plain fun to share her craft with someone else. She wouldn’t teach like Dixie did—rigid and uncompromising. She’d teach more like her favorite YouTube tutorials. The whole reason she watched them was because of how much fun the hosts were having.

She realized that she’d gone off on a daydream, already picking out fragrances and colors for a class she wasn’t even teaching. She focused on Dixie. “That would be... I would love that.”

“Consider it done.”

The morning’s first shoppers were trickling in, and Dixie stepped politely away so they could browse. “I’ll let you know about the class. Good luck today.”

“Thank you.”

Dixie left, Emma high-fived her across the table, and they sold three bath bombs and a Toasted Coconut soap to the first customer of the day.

* * *

Theo paced a tight circle in the parking lot of the Logan County Community Center. He held a bouquet of carnations in one hand, the completed soap journal in the other. It was cold out here, with a mean November wind, but he wasn’t ready to go inside and talk to Brooke. This was his one chance to fix things, to make things right with her, and he had to choose his words carefully.

He was close. He’d almost get it—the perfect words in the perfect order—but then it would slip away. He put the flowers and journal on the hood of his Impala and held his right hand flat, facing the ground at waist height.

What would Brooke want to hear? What words would persuade her to give him another chance? This wasn’t about him and his feelings. This was about her wants and her needs. Brooke needed more than pretty words, but if he was going to get anywhere with her at all, the words had better be damned pretty to start with.

He held his left hand at chest height. Start with admiration, then compliments, then apology? Apology first? He tried them in a different order, stacking his hands accordingly.

“Theo?”

He turned toward the voice. “Poppy? Hi.”

Poppy stood next to a car a few aisles over, her arms draped with colorful shopping bags. She wore leggings and a down jacket, her long hair braided into a tail that danced behind her as she wove between cars toward him. She gave him a friendly hug. “I’m surprised to see you. I never pictured you as the craft show type.”

“I never pictured you that way either,” Theo said.

“Are you kidding? This place is like Etsy on steroids. It’s not even Thanksgiving yet and I got half my Christmas shopping done.” Poppy tilted her head to one side. “But why are you standing in a parking lot working on a closing argument?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were.” She hovered the blade of one hand near her heart, the other in front of her nose. “You still do that?”

“Only on tough cases.”

Poppy eyed the bouquet of doghouse flowers. “Maybe it’s not as bad as you think. After all, your girlfriend made you a soap.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Brooke. We met in Columbus? I didn’t know she made bath products. I bought like fifty dollars of stuff from her, including this.” Poppy dug through her bags and came up with a bar of sunshine-yellow soap.

Theo recognized it immediately, but the label was new. It featured a cartoon avatar wearing a suit and tie. Legal Trouble? Oh, boy.

Poppy brought it to her nose and inhaled while eyeing him over the top of it. “It’s almost indecent. After smelling this, I feel like I know more about you than I should.”