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The line went quiet, and if I listened hard enough, I was sure I could hear Trinity roll her eyes. I also knew she was probably silently laughing at my panic.
“Okay, Thomas and I will head to The Italian Affair for dinner tonight and spy on your date to make sure you are fine. That way, you’ll have witnesses.”
I let out a laugh. I knew she was joking, but I also knew she would do that in a heartbeat if she thought it would get me on this date.
“Fine, I will be fine!”
“Yes, you will! Now, go get ready. I will meet you outside of Peach Street Boutique in a half hour, and we shall find you something sexy for tonight.”
* * *
I stepped out of the changing room, feeling uncomfortable, and looked over at Trinity. She’d made me try this dress on, and she didn’t give up on it the entire time we’d been at the shop. It was the only one I didn’t want to put on, and as soon as I’d stepped out of the small room and she looked at me, a smile came to her lips.
“My friend. My beautiful, stunningly gorgeous friend, that is the dress!” She squealed with excitement. “This is the dress!” she repeated, this time running her hands over the fabric.
I looked down at myself and then at the mirror. The green dress hugged me in every place I wasn’t used to showing off anymore and hadn’t been since before Darren had passed away. “I don’t know,” I said, fidgeting as I looked at myself in the mirror.
Trinity’s reflection appeared in the mirror behind me, and she smiled at me as she ran her hands over my hips. “Ethan will love this on you. Who knew you had these curves hidden in those oversized jeans and T-shirts you wear?” She giggled, running her hands over my hips again.
I could see the sincerity in her eyes as she studied my reflection. “Fine, you win again,” I said, laughing as I threw my hands up in the air. “I’ll get this dress.”
“YAY!!!!” Trinity laughed as she hugged me tightly. “I’m so excited for you.”
“I’m glad someone is excited. I’m going to take this off now, get back into my comfy clothes.”
“You aren’t any fun, Peggy Hollis,” Trinity called, still smiling at me.
“I can’t believe, in a few hours, you’re going to be sitting down to dinner with Ethan, and you better not leave anything out. You hear me. I want every nitty-gritty little detail,” Trinity said as we stepped out of the boutique and headed down the street toward Bluebird Books.
Shifting the bag to my other hand, I turned and looked at my best friend. “I swear, if this turns out bad, you and I are going to have to have a chat.”
Trinity pulled me in for a hug. “Well, hate to break it to you. We won’t be able to.”
“Why not?” I questioned, looking at her with confusion.
Her eyes full of laughter, she looked at me. “Well, according to you, you’ll be in a dumpster somewhere.” Trinity laughed.
I looked at my friend as tears ran down her face. Then I too started laughing at how ridiculous my own words sounded.
ETHAN
I was on a high as I left Peggy’s shop. Melinda’s plan had worked. It was two weeks of wanting to see her, but we emailed instead, and then I did as my daughter suggested and asked her out. Peggy had said yes, and I felt like less of a stalker than I had when I’d spoken to my daughter earlier. As I walked down the road, I decided that I’d take a walk through the small town. I wanted to familiarize myself with the area, something I hadn’t done yet.
Eventually, I’d found The Italian Affair. I entered the small restaurant and made a reservation for tonight. Then I continued my walk. I passed many places that Peggy had shared with me in her letters. It was nice to see them in person, see the actual building now in my mind. Some she’d described them to me so perfectly that they looked exactly as I imagined.
After a long walk, I made it back to the Willow Valley Bed and Breakfast and was greeted by Bessy, the owner.
“Ah, Mr. Alexander. Will you be joining us tonight for dinner? We’re having roast chicken, roasted potatoes, fresh asparagus from the garden out back, along with a recipe from my very own mother. Her Amish buns. People always tell me they are to die for. Brooke has been on me to give her the recipe for The Crispy Biscuit, but I refuse.”
“Well, that sounds amazing. I sadly will not be here to join you for dinner. I have a date.” I smiled.
“Oh.” A light blush lined her cheeks. “A date, you say?”
“Yes.”
“I remember when Harry and I used to date. It’s been years, of course, and now with his failing health, well…”
I smiled at Bessy. She must be in her early eighties, I figured, and wondered how she kept up with the running of this place.
