Page 58 of Forget Me Knot

DINAH

“And you’re ready for this afternoon, young lady? You’re gonna win this thang?” Charlie trots around my store in her four-inch, emerald green wedges, as she’s prone to do. A jumbo, Classic Beer Pretzel in one hand and the largest size soda I offer in the other. She is larger than life in every facet of her life, and I’ve recently started offering the jumbo version of at least one flavor a week, just for her.

“Yes, ma’am.” I pop into the kitchen, pull a few dough balls from the proofing drawers and let them rest on the counter before heading back to the dining room. One of the girls will be in to work on twisting within the next half hour, when I’ll be officially off for the weekend to prep for the Peewee Spring Training game and the announcement of the winner of the Badger Bites Competition. “But shouldn’t you be hoping Maloy and Nate take the win?”

She waves her hand in the air, losing a few salt pieces to my floor in the process. “They have one another, and I like your pretzels better. Though I’ll never admit it in public, sodon’t quote me on it. I mean, Dinah, they’ve based their entire livelihoods on tater tots. I’m a proud mama, but I gotta draw the line somewhere.”

“I like their tots. The Sweet Potato Marshmallow combo makes me think of Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She takes another bite and slides onto a swivel chair. “Enough about them. Tell me ‘bout your flavors for the weekend.”

“Cracker Jacker Crumble Jumbo Pretzels. Peanut Butter and Jelly-filled Bites. And my Jalapeno Bacon Bites with Beer Cheese Dip. It’s Jack’s favorite.” I tick them off one at a time on my fingers.

“Mmmhhmmm. Delicious,” she hums. “And speakin’ of delicious. It’s ‘bout time you tell me every single delectable morsel about this romance with Jackson. You sure were awful cozy in the closet last week. And I heard that Stacy girl showed up outta nowhere.”

“Isn’t she local?”

“I don’t care where she’s from, she doesn’t belong withourboy. Now, spill.”

I wave her off and make myself busy. Jack and I discussed Stacy at length after meeting her last Saturday. He told me he’d planned to propose, that he thought they wanted a life together. But after the accident, when Jack woke up in the hospital as a different person, it was quickly evident that Stacy preferred one version of him over the other.

“She was nice enough. I’m glad I met her.”

Charlie whistles and clicks her tongue in her cheek. “Well, good riddance, I say! She never deserved him in the first place. And after the way I’ve seen y’all neckin’ all over this town, I don’t think she’d stand a chance if she ever came crawling back anyway.”

“She’s married, Charlie. Happily, by the looks of things.”

Charlie huffs, but I see the tilted smile she tries to hide.

I glance around the shop where customers seem happy in their little corners, but I’ve learned they always have a listening ear. Mrs. Cotten gives me a furtive wave that tells me she’s keeping up with every bit of this conversation and is positively titillated for more insider intel. Jackson and I will be front page news of her beloved blog,Somethin’ to Talk About.

I make a mental note to troll it later.

“ThePetals’ storage closet is not all over town, Charlotte,” I gently remind my friend, making my way back behind the counter.

She gasps and takes a ferocious bite of her pretzel, talking through it. “Don’t you start with all thatCharlottebusiness. That boy must be doin’ a doozy on your senses if you’re callin’ me by my proper name. I’ve got an oil for that.” She shakes her index finger at me over the rim of her cup as she abandons hope for gossip in favor of concocting the perfect potion for what ails me. “Bergamot and clary sage oughtta do the trick. I’ll be back later with ‘em, and I expect the tea when I return.”

She leaves the store as quickly as she came, but I know she couldn’t possibly bring me anything that’ll change the way I feel.

For the first time in my life, I am completely in love.

Everything about us feels right. Some days he’s Jackson and other days he’s Jack, but he’s always mine. Always considerate and kind. His touches, tender and respectful. His mind and heart, avenues I want to explore forever.

But I haven’t told him how I feel yet. Every time I come close, Emory’s voice, reminding me that I romanticize real life, chimes in my head. What’s more romantic than insta-love? Or than fighting for that love, tooth and nail, every step of the way. The readiness to hand your heart over to another completely.

It happened quickly, but it happened all the same. I love J. Jones. Now I just need to decide what to do with that.

He takes me to Monday family lunches, and I feel like I really and truly belong with their group. Winnie and Brooke fan their faces and giggle like teens every time Jack catches my eye, and each occurrence leaves me blushing with the knowledge that he saves those secret smiles for me. His parents hug me like I’m one of their own when we arrive and leave, and Owen started giving me playful noogies and brotherly advice on my second visit. He hasn’t stopped. And even after catching the beginnings of our dalliance in the storage closet, Gram is fully on board theLove Traintoo.

Every time I look the least bit unenthusiastic, tired, sad, worn out, happy, etcetera, Gram encouragesJackyto whisk me off to the nearest closet for some TLC. And sometimes, he obeys. I love it.

Greeting Emma, one of two teens that Shelly recommended from the local church, I lay out the plan for the weekend for her. It’s the first time I’m leaving everything in her hands, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have trepidations. But I feel like this weekend and the Badger Bites Competition is something I’ve been working towards, not only professionally, but also as a member of the Honey Hill community. I feel at home here and happy. I want to put down roots and stay. Winning the competition and having my business represented by our local baseball team would feel like putting my stamp of ownership on the town. That Honey Hill is mine. I belong. My perfect pretzels say so.

Not to mention the overwhelming burst of pride I get every time J. Jones comes home from Peewee practice brimming with energy and excitement over a game he has loved his entire life. Like he’s hit a homerun at the bottom of the ninth with bases loaded. Of course, he loves the team and his time with kids, but I suspect his renewed camaraderie with his friends and siblingsafter feeling isolated for so long has been like waking up after a long and hopeless, fog-covered dream. He’s happy, and so am I.

Competition or not, it feels like a win.

If I were the type of person who enjoyed spending my Saturday afternoons in the Southern heat, spring pollen whimsically swirling through the air on a breeze, and elementary-aged kids taunting one another from a cement dugout while their parents encourage them from the sidelines, then I would be entirely blissed out right now.

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