Page 20 of (Not So) Famous in Paradise

Georgia

As soon as I get back to Grandma Rose’s, I get Ike and the producers on the phone. By the time I finish talking to them about making Zach a bigger part of the show, it’s after seven o’clock.

I collapse on the couch, too tired to make anything to eat and too hungry not to. If I were in California right now, I’d drive through In-n-Out or DoorDash tacos from one of a million taco shops.

I miss LA.

Instead, I pick up the phone and tell Siri to dial the number for the Garden of Eatin’. They don’t do take-out, but I’m hoping they will for me, even though Adam is in New York with Evie. His brother Bear will be manning the restaurant. He can cook, but he wasn’t trained at one of the best culinary schools in the country the way Adam was.

Britta answers, which means she’s working the hostess station after running her own restaurant all morning and afternoon.

“Hey, Britta. It’s Georgia. You sound as tired as I feel.” I kick off my boots and stretch out on the sofa.

“Yeah, it’s been a day. What can I do for you?” The noise in the background explains why she’s not as chatty as usual. The Garden must be busy.

“My fridge is empty, and I’m too tired to move.” Hard as I try not to let it happen, a whine slips into my voice. “Is there any way I can order take-out without sounding like I’m pulling theI’m famouscard?”

“There’s literally no way to do that,” Britta says sternly, and my heart drops. “So it’s a good thing everyone here loves you and would do anything for you. What would you like?”

Britta’s voice switches back to its usual lilting tone, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I should have known she was teasing, but I’ve been on edge ever since my Darlene Voglmeyer encounter.

“Cheeseburger and fries. Tell Bear to make it as easy on himself as possible.” My stomach growls at the thought of food. Almost loud enough to drown out the thought that I’m being a diva. “And thank you so much.”

“Hold on one sec,” Britta says over the loud voices in the background, then puts me on hold.

I shouldn’t be making Britta, Bear, and the rest of the staff at the Garden cater to me. Especially since they’re probably feeding Ike and the crew, because that’s where I told them to go for the best food in town. But I can’t force myself back out the door. After the hectic day I’ve had, it feels too good to be home.

Except home doesn’t quite feel like home—aside from the empty fridge. It used to feel like home, when it was Grandma Rose’s, with green shag carpet and textured walls, but I’m not used to the changes Evie and I made. Don’t get me wrong, the house is beautiful inside and out in a way it never was when I spent summers here with my grandma. I guess I’m still not used to the idea of this house being mine instead of hers.

“Cheeseburger and fries. You got it,” Britta says when she comes back. “Rowdy’s here with Tessa. You want me to see if he’ll run it over to you? Looks like they’re about done.”

“That would be amazing.” I close my eyes and sink deeper into the couch.

I haven’t seen Rowdy in years, but if there’s anyone actually famous in Paradise, it’s him. He’s won enough buckles for bareback bronc-riding to cover an entire wall. I’ve never met his fiancée, Tessa, but I’ve heard she’s from LA too.

But for real from LA, not just living there now, like I do. For better or worse, I’ll always befromParadise, Idaho. Which isn’t the worst place to be from, especially considering I’m getting DoorDash service from a world-famous rodeo star for no extra charge.

Just like running into a celebrity in the grocery store can only happen in a place like LA or New York, only in a place like Paradise could you get food delivered for free by someone who has no reason to do it other than to be neighborly.

Paradise isn’t unique in that way for a small town. What makes it unique is that it’s a popular summer vacation spot. The population increases by tens of thousands between Memorial Day and Labor Day. College students from all over spend the season working here at restaurants, rental shops, the local grocery store, and every other business that makes most of its yearly profits during the summer months.

When the season ends, the students return to wherever they’re going to college, and local kids go back to school. Help is hard to find, but business is slow anyway, so most people work multiple jobs. And locals—like Rowdy—are always willing to help in a pinch.

It’s great, but it’s also exhausting. That’s why Dad sold his hardware store and he and Mom moved to Boise. Neither my brother nor I wanted to stay and run it, so he sold it to Zach’s dad. Knowing Zach may take it over from his dad someday makes me feel like it’s still in our family.

But it also means Zach will never leave Paradise. And sometimes I wonder if he’d like to. Occasionally when we talk and I tell him about the different places I’m traveling to or even the places around LA where I’m hanging out, I hear a longing in his voice. If wanderlust has a sound, that’s what his voice sounds like.

Thinking about Zach, I pull out my phone to look through the videos and posts Stella put up today. I knew she would be great, but she’s totally nailed the aesthetic I was going for. Light, bright, minimal, and fun.

But she’s also captured something else.

Me touching Zach.

A lot.

Sometimes it’s our shoulders brushing. Other times it’s me resting my hand on his arm while I talk to him. There’s even one with our heads bent over together, looking at some of my drawings. And of course, there’s the one where he’s carrying me.

I don’t need a picture to remind me of that. The memory is still fresher than a new coat of paint.

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