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“I wish you’d just tell me abouthim,” she sighs. “Properly. I’m dyin’ to know.”
“It’s not worth telling, trust me.”
She smiles, a rare moment of seriousness amidst the never-ending stream of off-color teasing. “The fact that you refuse to say much about your past tells me that it’sdefinitelyworth telling.”
“You know more than anyone else in this town already.”
“Only because I got you drunk that one night.”
I grit my teeth. “That was a mistake.” But she caught me in the right moment. The anniversary of the day Dad and I left the Diamond always does a number on me. I’ve done four and counting of them, and it never gets easier.
Mabel laughs. “Playing hide-the-sausage with Callan might help put the past behind you!” she suggests. “Just a friendly idea.”
“I…can’t,” I offer up lamely. “Or at least, I shouldn’t. I’m a mess and Callan’s a sweet guy. He deserves better.”
“And yet here we are—six months later and you’re still leading him on.”
“Do you think that’s what I’m doing?” I ask with a frown, leaning against the counter. “I mean, I told him I needed to take things slow. I told him I didn’t want to label us. I even told him he could date other women if he wanted to.”
“Oh, honey,” Mabel says, patting my arm. “You and I both know that boy has been following you around town with his tongue hanging out like a damn mutt for over a year now. He ain’t interested in dating anyone else.”
I glance out the windows. It’s hard to see far, though—the walls drip with pictures and mementos of Mabel’s travels, and much of it obscures the view outside. I asked her once why she spent most of her life trekking to every corner of the earth, only to settle down in the most boring place of all.
After a life of Technicolor, I craved a little beige. That’s how she explained her decision to move to Kent.
I can relate. Albeit probably for slightly different reasons.
“Callan’s a sweet guy. I think it’s time I—
“Fucked him.”
I narrow my eyes. “I was going to say, ‘Break up with him.’”
“Why would you do that?!” she cries out. “At least give him a ride once before you cut him loose! Then, if nothing else, you’ll have made an informed choice.”
“I don’t need an informed choice,” I tell her. “I’ve always known what I want.”
“Ahhh. I see.”
That all-knowing look in her eye makes me shrivel up. “I just want to focus on myself,” I amend quickly. “And my son.”
“Your son is beautiful,” Mabel says, patting my hand with her many-ringed fingers. “Honestly, he’s the only little runt I’ve ever actually liked, and that’s saying something. But he doesn’t need you to sacrifice your life for him. Trust me: he won’t thank you for that later.”
I glare at Mabel. “Can we please stop discussing my personal life?”
“Hell no. I believe I made that a condition of your hiring.”
I roll my eyes. “I thought you were joking.”
“That’s kind of a ‘you problem’ then, ain’t it?”
She pushes her bright blue hair away from her eyes. It’s been this shade for a few months now, but half the town still rubbernecks at her every time she walks past. She loves that, of course. If there is one thing Mabel Lane likes doing, it’s shocking people.
Sometimes, I wish I had her fire. Other times, I worry that if I had it, I would burn my life to the ground.
There are days when it feels like I already did.
“Seriously, kiddo,” she says, “you can’t mope around for your whole damn life. Gravity’s not a woman’s friend. At some point, it’s gonna turn on you. The only question is when.”
