Page 90 of Falling Like Stars

Dr. Baldwin’s words echo in my mind, about not pushing Zach to his edges. Not to mention, it’s not my business to betray him with my theories and worries. So, I tell his mother the only truth I have.

“He’s strong,” I say. “Strong and kind. He’s got a steel rod of goodness in him, and it’s not going anywhere, Mrs. Butler. He’s the best person I’ve ever met. He’s the best person anyone is going to meet, and I want to do everything in my power to make him happy. That’s all I can offer you. I know it’s not much…”

“Oh, Rowan. It’s so much, you have no idea. It’s everything.” She dabs her eyes and huffs a breath. “Anyway, I shouldn’t burden you with a mother’s worry. It’s not fair, but it’s also almost impossible for me to not ask.”

I think of the texts from Josh’s mom, stacked up on my phone and a fresh guilt grips me.

“I understand.”

“Yes, I think you do. I like you, Rowan. No pressure: I know you’re new, but I have a good feeling about you. For what that’s worth.”

“It’s worth a lot,” I say and clear my throat. “This may sound weird, but I’m not used to…having a boyfriend. To being a good partner. I want to be that for Zach.”

Dinah smiles and pats my hand. “The fact that you’re concerned about it, means you already are.”

I’m pretty sure I fell in love with Zach’s mom in that moment, but thinking about being good for Zach wasn’t the same as action. I look out over the huge pond, and I know what I have to do.

I pull out my phone and answer the latest text from Josh’s mother.

Hi, Carol. I’m sorry I’ve been so quiet. I’ve been very busy and now I’m out of state. I’ll call you when we get back. I think we need to talk.

I blow out a breath, turn my phone off, and put it back in my pocket.

Baby steps.

Dinah smiles. “Everything okay?”

“Great,” I say. “Do you have a bicycle I can borrow?”

In the garage, the twins are bickering like idiots about how to organize the power tools. I pass a huge worktable with a mess of electric drills, screwdrivers, hammers, and boxes of nails, to take a blue ten-speed off the rack, then adjust the slack backpack on my shoulder.

“She’s stealing Mom’s bike,” Jeremy says matter-of-factly. “Are you doing something shady? Can I come?”

I roll my eyes with a laugh. “I’m going into town for some things. To that cute little Main Street.”

“Awesome, I need some beer.”

Zach whacks him on the shoulder. “Get your own beer.” He joins me at the bike. “Do you remember how to get there?”

I give him a kiss on the chin. “I’ll figure it out.”

He smiles. “What are you up to?”

“None of your business,” I say. “Yet.”

The ride back to that little strip of shops takes about five minutes. I lock the bike outside the general store. Kirkwood’s General has a small wine closet, a deli, and rows of fresh fruits and veggies.

“My one-stop-shop,” I murmur, and load up on gourmet sandwiches, potato chips, a carton of strawberries, and a bottle of pinot noir. Just enough to fit in my backpack.

I pay for the food, shoulder my pack that is now a helluva lot heavier, and step outside.

That’s when I hear it.

Click click click.

There are three men at the entrance of the general store. Paparazzi, judging by their professional cameras and utter disregard for my privacy. I cover my face and hurry to the bike to unlock it.

“Rowan! Rowan, sweetie, look over here.”

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