Page 80 of Prime Time Romance

When I’m certain there is nothing left in my stomach, I lean back and rest my head on the cool yellow tile as I reach out and flick the toilet handle with the toe of my sandal. The water whooshes, carrying away the contents of my stomach. I’m left with nothing but the pounding in my skull, which continues to grow louder and louder until it occurs to me that it may not be my head at all.

I consider staying in the bathroom, rationalizing that it’s probably Poppy again and I’m not emotionally prepared to deal with her this morning. But the knocking persists. In this battle of wills, mine is weak, and I give up first, stumbling my way downstairs and flinging open the back door, mentally preparing for another lecture on my appearance.

But the person standing on the other side is someone else entirely.

“Sheldon?”

He’s dressed like a UPS driver. Brown pants. Brown shirt. But as I read the gold embroidery, the letters are reversed: USP.

He steps inside the kitchen without invitation and begins to pace the six feet between the refrigerator and the stove.

“I’ve heard some very unsettling rumors.”

My fingers start to tingle.

“Rumors? What rumors?”

He finally stops, and although his head is turned toward me, he avoids my eyes. “Oh, I don’t know, that you were dancing with other men on a stage last night, drinking alcohol with your mortal enemy as if you two were the best of friends, and completely obliterating the perfect reputation of this town’s most beloved resident?”

I feel a mix of agitation and relief. He doesn’t know about Josh.

“Yes. I was hanging out with Luce yesterday. I don’t know if we were ever mortal enemies, but we’re definitely not now. And I don’t know if I’d describe it as dancing with other men. It was more just dancing in proximity of other people.”

Sheldon slowly shakes his head. “That is not part of our plan, Sloan. You and that poor excuse of a Fletch keep messing things up! Fixing up the Bronze, getting everyone in town drunk. You’re not supposed to be running around changing things! I tried to send you a subtle message, but shutting down the power was clearly too vague of a hint, so now I’m here being very overt about what exactly needs to happen next.”

“Wait! That was you who cut the lights?”

Sheldon throws up his hands. “You’re missing the point. We had a plan and you’re messing it up!”

I don’t like his use of the word we. Especially since I feel like Sheldon’s plan for Sloan may be deviating from mine.

“About that.” I think about how to frame my next sentence without him freaking out. “Have you ever considered that Sloan has grown up a little these past years? She’s thirty now. She’s seen things. I mean, she has been on her own for a long time. Is it possible she’s maybe changed—”

“No!” Sheldon slams his hand on the kitchen island so loudly that I jump. “She hasn’t.” He steps toward me, so close that I can count the flecks of yellow in his eyes. “She is still the sweet and lovable girl next door. She has finally come home, where she will take her place as Lobsterfest queen and, more importantly, queen of Spencer Woods’s heart. They will end up together. Happily. Ever. After. No deviations. No funny business.”

On some level, I understand Sheldon’s need for this. I’ve been there. I spent three days straight in the same pair of gray sweatpants, on my second twenty-pack of nuggets, grasping at any reason for why things didn’t turn out the way I wanted them to. As I watched rerun after rerun while going through my divorce, I looped both myself and Sloan into the same group of those that loved hard and lost.

But the last few days have shown me an error in my logic. I’ve assumed that there is only one way to that happily ever after: fall in love with the perfect boy and get him to love you back forever. Now I’m not so sure.

“What happens if she doesn’t?”

Sheldon’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“What happens if Sloan doesn’t win the pageant? What happens if she and Spencer don’t end up together?”

Sheldon shakes his head, his eyebrows doing the same thing as before. “That’s simply not an option. She wins. They wind up together. If for some ludicrous reason it doesn’t happen at the seventy-fifth annual Ms. Lobsterfest Pageant, then we try the seventy-sixth, then the seventy-seventh. I have all the time in the world.”

But I don’t.

More importantly, Josh doesn’t either.

“Sheldon, I don’t want to do this. I may have been on board when we first got here, but I’m not anymore, and Josh isn’t either. We want to go home. Now. Carson’s Cove is a television show. Sure, it didn’t end the way we wanted it to, but it’s not the end of the world. And that’s why there is fanfic. You can dream up any ending you want.”

“I don’t think you get it.” Sheldon straightens, his wiry body suddenly tall and looming. “You made a wish. That wish brought you here, and until you fulfill your purpose, there is no going home. I have been playing nice up until now. I have let you do things your way. But if you keep wasting this incredible opportunity, I will intervene and remind you that Carson’s Cove isn’t all about falling in love. It can get dark. Very dark.”

I don’t miss the threat in his tone.

“Message received.”