Page 25 of I Love a Good Challenge

With my self-taught sense of style, I recognize that I look more like I belong in a city and not in a small town, but I’m not letting go of my fashion sense. My teenage years were spent working a job after school to help pay our rent, always trying to hide the holes in the bottoms of my shoes from my mom. I still tighten my feet in my loafers when it rains.

As soon as I could afford it, I made sure that no one had any reason to suspect that I used to live on fluffernutter sandwiches (a New England thing with peanut butter and marshmallow crème taking the place of jelly) or used to study by candlelight like characters from a Dickens’ novel to save money on the utility bills. Those days are over, and I’ve never looked back. Now, I almost only ever wear suits, donning shorts or sneakers only to work out or on special occasions. It’s odd how we can be so far removed from what we once were, but one tangible reminder or piece of clothing can make us feel pulled into the past.

I shake my head to free my mind of the memories and try to focus on what I’m about to get into. Rafe may think he’s clever, but based on the looks he keeps throwing my way, I know Sparrow must be waiting for us at All Sewn Up, the dress shop and tailoring service here in Birch Borough.

If Sparrow is there, a certain blonde woman who floated through my dreams last night isn’t far away. Rafe’s hand lands on my arm. We pause, and I see the sign for the store glowing like a beacon in the distance.

“Hey, wait up, Graham.” His insistent tone makes me turn to him. Rafe’s face is serious. “I’m sorry,” he continues. “I shouldn’t have joked about her.”

As the courage I’ve built up suddenly starts to wane, I give him a quick nod. I know I need to get used to Lily’s presence circling me again. But my tense mood isn’t just because of my constant awareness of her. This town is sinking into my soul in the best of ways. In addition to living near my best friend, Rafe, I can see Sparrow becoming a dearer friend too. She’s not just my best friend’s girl. I need to get this right. I’m ready to put down roots, build a home, and start a family. But the more often I see Lily, the more unsure I become that my dreams are ever going to be possible.

I wince again and will my face not to freeze that way. Rafe pulls me toward an alcove as a family passes us on the sidewalk. The sight of their happy faces makes my heart clench a bit.

“Please tell me what happened between you two,” he says.

He doesn’t even have to say her name. We both know whom he is referring to. Even though I knew this day was coming, I feel the embarrassment and shame creeping up my neck. A flush overtakes my face, as it always does when I think of Lily rejecting me on the beach that night. While I war with myself on where to begin, Rafe’s gentle nature and patience assure me that it’s time to tell the truth.

“Um, so . . . ” I say as a stellar beginning to this cautionary tale, “Lily and I knew each other before I moved to Birch Borough.”

He nods for me to continue.

“We saw each other for a while.”

Rafe’s eyes widen. “Wait—as in . . . Lily went out with you on purpose? Like it wasn’t some sort of fake-dating scenario?”

I rear back. “What? No!”

Suddenly, it strikes me how weird it probably is to see two grown men having a deep chat near Bette’s Ice Cream with families and high schoolers moving in and out. I direct us toward a store that is already closed for the day. Even though it is only early evening, in a small town, you learn that you’re no longer in the city rather quickly when you want a coffee at 5:00 p.m., and everything is already closed.

“Okay, so, you went out with Lily . . .” Rafe muses. “When?”

“LA.”

“When was she in LA?”

“A couple of years ago . . . for a chocolatier-intensive course.”

“Wait. Is this when you ignored my calls for weeks and had that goofy grin on your face when I showed up at your house before you kicked me out and told me you were on a quest to find yourself? I thought you had lost it. You were just . . . with Lily? I mean, we met in LA, so it’s not too far off . . . wait—did you follow her here?” Rafe’s voice has risen an octave since the last question.

“No,” I protest immediately. “I mean, she mentioned this place, but I thought for sure she’d be gone when I moved here.”

Rafe’s eyes narrow. “Did you hurt her?” His unusually gruff tone sends me rearing back again. “After observing your obvious tension around each other, I’ve been wanting to ask. And if you did, so help me . . . she is what I imagine a sister would be. I love you, man, but this is—”

“Will you quit with that? I . . .” I trail off because the words are just so hard to get out.

“You what?” Rafe asks the question softly, but I hear the anxiety in his tone.

We’re treading into dangerous territory since Lily is Sparrow’s best friend, and we both know it. What I am going to say might change his opinion of the situation—maybe even of Lily. I don’t know how to feel about it. I don’t want to misrepresent what happened. Silently, I remind myself that it is best to just keep to the facts, and maybe the truth will surface.

“I told her I loved her,” I say the words bluntly.

Rafe blinks. Once. Twice. He furrows his brow. “I need to sit down.”

I follow him to a bench a few storefronts away, and we sit.

“You . . . Lily . . . love?” He hunches over, his forearms resting on his knees. A sense of dread fills my gut. I nod as I feel Rafe look toward me. “Did she know how you felt about her?”

I nod again.

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