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Jake disappears, and I’mleft standing here, feeling a little shaken up. It did occur to me on the way home that I was going to bump into him sooner or later, but I didn’t think it was going to be the same day I arrived.
Nor can I say that I was ready for such animosity. Okay, maybe I should have expected it, considering the circumstances of my departure. I mean, we did have the fight of the century.
When I get to the register—after lingering longer than necessary to give Jake plenty of time to leave—Mrs. Windrow is giving me a look that tells me that she heard everything. Old she may be, but the woman misses nothing.
Don’t let the gray hair and elaborate cat eye glasses fool you. This woman is as sharp as a tack. I have no memory of her not running the store, though I think her husband helped when he was still alive.
Mrs. Windrow, or as Mom likes to call her, “the local news,” has this disarming skill of getting you to tell her whatevershe wants to know. These days, she’d be called a master manipulator; the truth is, she’s just really good at getting people to open up. In fact, she has it down to a fine art. That, and she’s a bit nosy.
“Well, this is a surprise,” she says, her eyebrows raised as she rings up my groceries.
I notice she didn’t say “nicesurprise,” but I try not to overthink it.
“And how are you, Mrs. Windrow?” I ask.
“I’m great, dear. What about you? Are you here visiting your folks?”
“Yes. I only arrived this morning, and Mom already has me collecting her messages,” I say, watching every syllable that comes out of my mouth as I pack my paper bags.
“Only just got here. You mean today?”
“Uh-huh.” I nod.
“I’m sure your parents are thrilled to see you. Your mom is always telling me how much you love the city. I’ll bet you won’t be with us too long.”
That’s a hidden question, but I’m ready for it.
“Oh, who knows?” I shrug, tugging cash from my purse.
“So, not your normal couple of days, then?” Mrs. Windrow replies.
See what I mean?
It takes me another five minutes to avoid being the topic of conversation for everyone else coming into the store after me, and after making my escape, I head back to the truck.
It’s so easy to forget what it’s like living in a small town. Don’t get me wrong, New Yorkers are great people, but they’re all too busy with their own problems to have the time to ask you about yours.
It really is a city that never sleeps. I mean, ever. It was a steep learning curve, moving from a tiny place in the country wherethe loudest thing at night is the crickets to a place where honking horns, sirens, and delivery trucks never quit. Eventually, the noise does blend into the subliminal because they’re always there in the background.
Thankfully, the coast is clear, meaning Jake’s long gone, and with my bags loaded, I make my way back to the house.
After helping Mom pack the groceries away, I borrow Dad’s truck again and head over to see Mel. She knows I’m coming because I texted her to let her know. It might be a small town, but it still has modern technology.
“Oh, my gosh,” Mel cries, throwing her arm around me while Thomas, the newest addition to their family at only eight months old, sits comfortably on her hip. “It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve seen you.”
I smirk. “You sound like Mrs. Windrow.”
Mel is leading me into the house when she glances over her shoulder and lifts an eyebrow.
“Oh, yes,” I say, answering her unasked question. “I’ve already been covertly interrogated.”
“You know what that means?” Mel says, scooping a few random toys off the floor after gently lowering Thomas into the playpen.
“Yep,” I sigh, following her into the kitchen. “By tonight, the whole town will know of my arrival.”
Mel grins and grabs a jug out of the fridge. “Lemonade?”
“Sure.”
