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Chapter One
~ Mimi Fowler ~
June 2017
“I saw Judd at the diner yesterday.”
My head shot upward at the woman’s voice on the other side of the aisle from where I stood.
“Yeah?” a second female asked.
I recognized the voices. How could I not when I lived in such a small place as Sweetville? They weren’t tourists. They were people I’d known all my life: Glynnis Tyler and Bridget Aberdeen.
“He looked so sad and lonely,” Glynnis told Bridget. “I wanted to hug him. I can’t believe he and Mimi broke up, you know? They seemed…you know…together forever. I didn’t think anything could ever break them up.”
“Did you hear what happened?” Bridget asked.
“No. I’m sure it was nothing like cheating. And Judd would rather die than to hurt Mimi.” She sighed heavily. “Maybe, it’s a case of marrying too young. Everyone said they shouldn’t.”
“Maybe… But they were always so in love—since like eighth grade. Makes me think there’s no hope for the rest of us.” Bridget chuckled. “Well, not here in Sweetville. Which is why I’m leaving in the fall.”
They moved away from me, talking about Bridget’s fall plans and never realizing I’d been there to overhear their conversation. My forehead rested against the shelf I’d been stocking. My white-knuckled hands gripped the edge, keeping me upright. I couldn’t shake the heavy feeling assailing me. The sadness. The regret. All the twenty-thousand what-ifs that filled my head every day.
What if wehadgotten together too young?
What if I’d been enough for him and not lacking?
That was the hundred dollar question. I just hadn’t been wife material.
Not that Judd would ever say that. He was too good of a person to drop that truth bomb on me.
Trying to shake my morose train of thought, I straightened and refocused on the sunny yellow candles I was stocking.
The craft store where I worked, Jilly B’s Crafts, sold pretty things like soaps and candles, though the main part of her business was any craft supply you could think of, as well as decorations for all the seasons. The owner, Jill, had hired me last week, and no matter how I felt about myself, I was determined not to let her regret the decision.
I mean…I wasn’t particularly crafty and I’d never worked arealjob. Not in high school nor since I’d graduated.
Technically.
Ihadworked, unpaid, for the Fowler farm. My husband’s farm. His family’s place. The jobs there had filled my days. Until I’d left him. I hadn’t been that great at those tasks, either. I could sell produce to customers like no one’s business. That was one thing. I was really good with people and closing sales. I just didn’t have much chance at it. Judd’s mom preferred that responsibility and usually shunted me back to the house to do something menial, like gathering and sorting eggs.
Shaking my head, I pushed away my regret-filled ruminations again. I had to stop obsessing. I’d left Judd, not the other way around. Because I had no place there in the Fowler family. Which meant leaving my husband, my high school sweetheart.
Not that anyone really understood it.
How could I explain?
Judd was a good man. Mostly perfect—as perfect as one could be anyway. He was obsessed with doing his work on the farm, running the maze business he’d taken over from his father, and fitting in classes here and there. Determined to be the best, he’d enrolled at the university to enhance his engineering of the structures he constructed around the region for county fairs and entertainment.
And I…
I didn’t measure up. I was supposed to be his little wife, help around the farm and vegetable stand, and hopefully, be the mother of the future Fowler babies. Apparently, I wasn’t built for that. Maybe if I’d managed to get pregnant over the past two years we’d tried… Who knew?
My hand swiped over my damp cheek to push away the annoying tear that had escaped. My gaze darted over toward my boss where she spoke with Greta, the organizer for the county fair that had started today and would run for a week.
Greta… Now, there was a girl who made me feel inadequate. We were the same age, but she’d been helping to organize Sweetville’s events for years—since before we’d graduated. Just two years later, she’d opened her own planning business and still handled all the town’s big events, from the county fair to the Christmas village.
The last thing I wanted was for either of them to see me crying. I quickly finished shelving the candles, so I could escape into the back room. There were other things I could stock. With summer vacation on us, moms had been sweeping up tons of craft supplies to keep their kiddos busy during the break.
