Page 114 of Teach Me How

“Reese?”

The smile covers his entire face this time. “That’s the one. You two making it official yet?”

I squint at him. “Have you been talking to Mitch?”

Dad tilts his head. “Mitch? No. Why?”

“No reason.” I stretch my neck, trying to ease the growing tension. There is a right way and a wrong way to go about delivering bad news. Unfortunately, communication has never been my strong suit. “I want to move to Boulder.”

Dad pauses, nodding slowly. “What’s stopping you?” He looks at my face. “You’re worried about the farm?”

I nod. “I don’t want to abandon it.”

“It won’t be abandoned, kid. I’m still alive and kicking. I got another fifteen years in me at least.” He fiddles with his wrench. “To tell you the truth, I always thought you might want to move. That cousin of yours offered to help out if ever you did, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Bo?”

Dad nods, looking uncomfortable. “He wasn’t trying to step on your toes. It was just in case, you know?”

“When was this?”

“A few years back.” He shrugs, holding my gaze. “I won’t lie. I always assumed one of you boys would want to take over. But I never wanted to force you to. If it ain’t your dream, it ain’t your dream. Maybe someday you and that Olson girl will have a son who wants to farm.”

“That might be getting the cart in front of the horse.”

He smiles secretively. “That’s not what I hear.”

“You have been talking to Mitch.”

“Not Mitch. Cody.”

I laugh, despite myself. “No such thing as a secret around here.”

He grins. “It’s a small town, son. What’d you expect?”

77.

Reese

There’s a bay window in the bookshop. It’s my official spot. I sit at the little bistro table there, sipping coffee and staring at spreadsheets until my eyes cross. There’s so much to learn it’s overwhelming. But I welcome that feeling of vastness because it just means that the job isn’t going to be boring. Snow sits in piles on the street, half-submerging parking meters. A winter front rolled through, dumping nearly a foot on the city. But today, the sun is shining, and you can almost take off your coat. If I strain, I can see down Pearl Street and just in the distance, the front range.

It would be a perfect morning, but for one little thorn in my side. It’s the thorn that’s been lodged there since the ski trip. Skyler left at the beginning of the week, promising to figure things out. He never said what he meant by that and hasn’t been particularly good at texting. I’m trying not to obsess over him. Trying not to look desperate. Tofeeldesperate. But every little thing I see seems to remind me of him. That little bastard stays at the forefront of my thoughts all day long.

Someone passes by on the sidewalk that looks just like him, and I’m sure I’m starting to hallucinate. But then I take a second look. That’s his coat. His dark glasses.

I’m on my feet, my computer and purse left behind. I push the door open and call after him. “Skyler.”

He turns back and smiles at me. Joy, pure and golden, wells up in my chest. I run over to him, colliding with enough force to knock the wind out of him. He wraps me up in a tight hug, pressing his lips to my hair. “Hey there, Kitty Cat.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Mitch told me where you live.” He cranes his head to look at the windows on the second story. “Above a book shop, huh? That’s very Reese.”

“Is it?” I glance at the store. “Oh shit. Hang on. I left all my stuff inside.”

He follows me in, watching patiently while I shove my things into a satchel. Taking it from me, he slings it over his shoulder and motions for me to lead the way.

We take the little side door and climb up a rickety set of stairs. “This feels like déjà vu.”

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