Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Lavinia hummed. “He runs through town every afternoon. He passes the donut shop at two eleven, like clockwork. And he cuts down the trail on the corner of Grapevine and Cannon. No one else uses that path because it leads to Vos property. You could find a tree stump or something to . . .” Her friend straightened in her chair. “You’re not taking this seriously, are you?”
“No.” Hallie shook her head so hard, a few curls fell across her eyes, forcing her to shove them back into place. “Of course not.”
“Me and my big mouth.” Lavinia sighed. “You don’t have to make this complicated. Just tell the man you like him and see what happens. Or is that too easy?”
“You think baring fifteen years’ worth of feelings would be easier in person?”
“All right, no. Not technically, but . . .” Slowly, Lavinia set down her glass, visibly taking time to gather her thoughts. “Look, I know I encouraged you to see him again. But I want you to stop and think before getting yourself into a tangle, Hallie. You know I love you to death, but . . .” She paused. “Since we lost Rebecca, you’ve been a little more quick to wreak havoc where none is necessary.”
Hallie nodded. Kept right on nodding until the back of her neck was too tight to continue.
While on the road with her mother growing up, Hallie had felt like a slot machine. Drop in a coin, pull the lever, and pick a new adventure. A new persona. Clean the slate. Her mother was as ever-changing as the wind, and she took Hallie with her, inventing new stories, new identities in the name of fun.
Hallie recalled that itchy feeling right before her mother pulled the metaphoric lever, and it felt suspiciously like her current, restless state. The state she’d been in since January. And constant, restriction-free movement was the only way to smother it these days. Or ignore it, rather. “Thanks for being honest,” she said, finally, to her expectant friend.
Lavinia reached across the table to lay her hand on top of Hallie’s. “Let’s put the ol’ letter-writing nonsense to bed, shall we?”
“I’ve read it a story and tucked it in,” Hallie said, firmly ignoring the excited static licking at her nerve endings. “Good night, bad idea.”
“Thank fuck,” Lavinia said, raising her wineglass.
Hallie reached for her own glass and found it empty. Blinking away the increasing blur, she poured herself another glass. A final one, she vowed.
Absently, she wondered how late the stationery shop stayed open these days.
Wouldn’t hurt to check on the way home, right?
Surely her Uber driver wouldn’t mind a detour.
* * *
Barbed wire wrapped around Hallie’s skull and it appeared to be tightening with a full twist every five to eight seconds. She walked into Corked, which hadn’t yet opened for the day, and draped herself over the dusty, timeworn counter, burying her head in folded arms.
Knowing laughter approached, and then Lorna patted her forearm with beautifully aged fingers, her cinnamon-and-dish-detergent scent drifting down to Hallie and providing her with a small sense of comfort. Quite a feat considering the circumstances.
“One cure for cobwebs coming right up,” sang the elderly woman, her footsteps carrying her behind the counter. “Overextended yourself last night at dinner with Lavinia, did you?”
“It was a special occasion.”
“What were you celebrating?”
“Saturday night.” She tried to smile at the older woman, but the action juiced her brain like an orange. “Please, Lorna. My Advil is lost somewhere in the wilds of my house. Either that or the dogs buried it in the backyard. I come begging for mercy.”
Lorna clucked her tongue, hummed to herself. “You don’t have to beg.” She fiddled in the cabinet beneath the register a moment, before setting down twin blue pills on the counter in front of Hallie. “You should be right as rain in forty-five minutes.”
“That’s ambitious, but I will attempt to manifest that outcome.” Pills dry swallowed, Hallie stood up a little straighter and focused on the sweetly smiling woman beside the antique brass register. One of her grandmother’s best friends. If she closed her eyes, she could see them sitting together, heads bent over a crossword, giggling like teenagers over a whispered joke. “How . . .” She cleared the emotion from her throat, glancing around the quiet, dusty shop. “Has business been any better?”
Lorna’s smile remained in place, her head ticking slightly to the right.
She said nothing.
Hallie swallowed, shifting in her seat. “Well, have no fear. I’m sure this hangover will be cleared up by the two thirty tasting. And it’s well past time to restock my whites—”
“The last thing you need is more wine, dear. I’m a big girl. I can handle no one showing up for a tasting.” Chuckling, Lorna reached out and squeezed Hallie’s hand. “Would I like to see this place packed like the old days? Of course. But I’m not filling the register with your hard-earned money, Hallie. I’m just not doing it.” She gave Hallie a final pat. “Rebecca would be proud of you for trying to help.”