Page 49 of Meet Me in Ivy Falls

I slid the tool into my pocket and approached her. Her shoulders shifted. Her eyes focused on the ground. She was holding something back. Were there problems with the house? Was her dad giving her shit about her finances again?

‘Torran,’ I whispered. ‘What’s going on?’

She finally looked up. I sucked in a sharp breath, struck by the intensity of her bright green eyes. When we were kids hanging out at our favorite spot at the lake, I would try to count all the different flecks of color around her pupils. Sometimes my gaze was so intense, Torran would shove me away by the shoulder, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. I’d told her over and over how beautiful she was, but she never believed me. Another thing that made me want to kick her father in the nuts.

‘Want to come to the bookstore? I know you probably haven’t been there since you came back to town.’ She shoved her hands into the pockets of those sexy overalls like she was nervous.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, her skin went pale like she realized she’d crossed over some invisible line. I was sure if I turned her down, she’d never offer up an opportunity like this again. And hell, it’d be nice to see the P&P again. Wander through the aisles where I’d spent much of my childhood reading.

‘That sounds great. Let me grab my coat.’

‘This isn’t a formal affair, Beck. We’ll be sitting on an old rug littered with smashed Goldfish and Cheerios. Think you can leave the jacket here.’

I rubbed my hands up and down my arms.

‘Second thoughts?’

She searched my face trying to see if I wanted an out. There was no way I was turning down a chance to spend more time with her.

‘No. Absolutely not. Let’s go.’

It was crazy how smells could smack you in the face and transport you back to another time. I hadn’t set foot inside the Pen & Prose since I was seventeen, but the place still carried the scent of old paper and the chemical-lemon smell of furniture polish.

Torran walked down the center walkway past the non-fiction and romance sections toward the children’s area. I followed her carefully, navigating my way around hip-high bookshelves crowded with dozens of board and chapter books. A sense of ease filled my bones as I found a spot on the rainbow-shaped rug next to her.

If I closed my eyes, I could remember the first time my mom brought me to the P&P. How she’d held on to Piper’s hand as we explored the cozy space. The way Torran’s mom quickly introduced herself as the owner. The bright lift of Mrs Wright’s lips when my mom explained how we’d just moved to town.

Mrs Wright didn’t hesitate to steer me toward the children’s section where her daughter with the golden hair sat with an open book in her lap. With soft light streaming in through the window, I thought Torran was an angel. I was only twelve at the time, but I swore that was the moment I fell in love with her. It would take four more years before that truth slid past my lips.

To my surprise the P&P was packed. I had no idea story time attracted such a big crowd.

‘Are there always so many people here?’ I asked.

‘It is a little more crowded today.’ Torran’s gaze moved around the room. ‘There’s Diego with his wife and kids. And do you see Old Mrs Vanderpool? She’s standing near the picture books.’

I recognized the small woman holding a bag with a mesh front where a tiny brown dog poked out its head. When we were younger she’d yell at us when we jumped our bikes off the curbs in the square calling us ‘hooligans’ at the top of her voice.

‘Is that Baby?’ I whispered.

‘Yep.’

‘That dog has to be at least fourteen.’

‘Fifteen. That’s why he’s in the case. Can’t walk much now.’

Torran tipped her chin to a nearby bookshelf where a woman with silver hair was standing next to her father. ‘That’s Isabel. Do you remember her? She manages the bank for my dad?’

I searched my memories but came up with a blank. Another side effect of the accident. Sometimes I couldn’t remember names or faces.

‘And you remember Barb and Susan from Sugar Rush.’

Just as she spoke the two women waved in our direction. Barb’s hair was a distinct shade of cranberry today.

‘So why are they all here?’ I asked as the room continued to fill up.

‘My gut says the Ivy Falls gossip train let everyone know that my sister was doing story time for the first time today.’

‘That’s nice, isn’t it?’