Page 100 of The Wedding Favor

“Oh, right.” I pressed play and passed over the bowl of popcorn I’d made.

An hour and a half later, I was quietly sobbing as the movie ended. I felt Abe get up and a moment later, a box of tissues appeared in front of me.

“I’m not crying.” I grabbed a tissue and blew my nose loudly.

“Absolutely not,” Abe said. He sat down but, this time, closer. He’d taken a shower when he got home, and that clean, spicy smell clung to him.

“I don’t cry.”

“I know. You’re a very tough girl.”

“Woman.”

“Right. Sorry. Woman.” He cleared his throat. “Do you want a hu⁠—?”

He didn’t get the whole word out before I launched myself at him. With an oophf, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and I curled into him, rested my head on his chest.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

His hand rubbed my back in long, soothing motions. I sighed. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten a real hug from someone who wasn’t my mother. My body soaked it all in, melting into him with a long sigh.

We sat like that for what felt like forever and not nearly long enough before he cleared his throat. “I don’t know if you heard, but Randolph is reopening their old movie theater.”

Randolph was a town about an hour west of Two Harts. “I hadn’t heard anything about it.”

“There’s a grand reopening next week. They’re playing Casablanca.”

I froze. “Really?”

Casablanca wasn’t just any classic movie. It was The Classic. I’d had many opportunities to watch it, but I’d been saving it to watch with someone special. Abe knew that, too. I remember sitting right here on this couch telling him about it.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go.”

I wanted to go so badly, but I wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea. Plus it was Casablanca; that meant something. At least, to me. “Is that a good idea?”

“It doesn’t have to be more than just friends seeing a movie together.” His voice was calm but under my hand, I could feel his heart beating double time. Absently, he started to run his fingers through my hair.

As one does with a friend.

“Yes, of course. That’s all it would be,” I said quickly. I kept myself tucked into his side. Somehow it was easier to say all this without looking him in the eye.

“Exactly. I’m a father. I have responsibilities.” He seemed to be talking to himself more than me. “I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“The right thing.” I wouldn’t expect anything less from him, but I couldn’t help the wave of rejection that washed over me. I sat up and faced him. His eyes were soft, almost tender. “If things weren’t so complicated, would it be a date?”

He brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. His gaze held mine, steady and true. “Yes, it would be. The first of many, I think.”

I swallowed and looked away. “That’s what I thought.”

THIRTY-NINE

“I found that shopping was often the best medicine.”

—excerpt from the unpublished memoir,

Darling, I Must Say by Gloria Hayes

The first official pageant practice was held the last Saturday in July at the high school. They herded us all into the auditorium. Kind of like cows to slaughter. Maybe it just felt like that to me, though.