Page 68 of A Novel Love Story

And for such a long time, it was.

But like Gemma realizing that her life went on regardless of whether she was in it, I began to realize my life wasn’t stopping, either. It would go on regardless of whether I burrowed my head in the sand and stayed stock-still. I think that was why I decided to take the trip this year—it wasn’t because I wanted routine or a week to read romances and drink shitty wine, but because …

My lifewasstill moving, and deciding to still go was the first real decision I’d made for myself in …

Inyears.

So it was lovely, truly, to see Gemma Shah look so happy and at home in the place she cherished the most.

“Honestly,” I replied, unable to stop smiling, “it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Oh no, that can’t be good. Has Lily been talking about me?” She arched an eyebrow, snapping the till closed with a flick of her wrist.

The sweets shop was empty, which was rare. She had on a red-and-white-striped shirt and high-waisted light-wash jeans, and a small golden coin around her neck, stamped with the outline of a honeybee. If Junie had been like a Monet painting, Gemma looked like the effortless happiness in Fragonard’sThe Swing. It was like she couldn’t stand still, constantly in motion as she talked to me while she put on plastic gloves and grabbed a scraper, moving down the counter to where she and Maya made taffy on a long slab of marble.

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” she went on, pouring a pot of boiling taffy onto the counter. “She overexaggerateseverything. And I mean everything. When she was three, she went fishing with Frank for the first time, and she caught a fish—you know how big it was?” She spread her hands apart as wide as they’d go. “This big, if you’d believe her.”

I laughed. “What, itwasn’tthat big?”

“Sadly not, and I’m not as boring as Lily probably told you,” she added. The ocher-colored taffy was cooling into a viscous puddle, and she scraped it together.

“She didn’t say you were boring at all,” I replied, “if that’s any consolation. She did tell me about the mutiny of bees, though.”

Gemma shook her head with a sigh. “If it’s not one thing … Thank you for fixing her book, by the way. I’ve been trying to find another copy forever. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Nah, I had fun. Lily is adorable,” I said as she turned back to the counter and returned to her cooling sugary puddle. Watching her work was fascinating. She went through the motions like she was on autopilot, having done it a thousand times before, scraping it together, turning it over, sprinkling a bit of flavor here, a dash there—like she was brewing a potion, and not a batch of taffy.

“Well, stay right there and let me finish, because I atleastwant to gift you some taffy for your troubles before you go,” she went on, hooking the gooey taffy on the taffy hook hung on the wall, and starting to pull. “It seems like ever since you came to town, you’ve been shaking things up.”

I looked away quickly. “I hope not too much.”

She pulled on the taffy again, adding a strip of pink dye to the ocher. “I think this town needs a little shaking up,” she finally decided, and flashed me a secretive smile.

I gave a noncommittal shrug. “Anders doesn’t exactly think so.”

She rolled her eyes. “That curmudgeon doesn’t like anything.”

“Really? But, he has such a great attitude …” I replied wryly.

She laughed. It was bright, like a bell. “Doesn’the? I think that’s how he scared everyone off at first.”

That intrigued me. “So, therewerepeople crushing on him?”

“Oh god, yeah. Holly, Suze, Beanie—he chased them all away within the first week. But you …” And she wiggled her eyebrows. “You might have a chance. He doesn’t scare you.”

“Oh—oh no, we’re barely friends now. I think that’s the extent of relationship.”

“Why?”

Because I almost ran him over with my car. Because I slapped him in the middle of town. Because he kissed me in a way that went all the way to my toes, and I can’t seem to shake the butterflies in my stomach that kiss bred.

“Oh, look at the time,” I said, looking at my imaginary watch. “I think I hear Mephistopheles calling my name from the depths of hell, be seeing you!” I cried and escaped the candy shop as quick as I could. She serenaded me out, pealing into laughter as soon as the door swung closed behind me.

I didn’t slow down my pace until I was a block away from the candy shop, and by then my cheeks were flushed from the exertion, and not the embarrassment. So, Andershadhad people interested in him at first, but they all ran for the hills when he wasn’t charming or forthcoming or even a little bitfun. (Until hewas, and then he was nicer, and thoughtful, and flirty.) He probably would’ve chased me away, too, if the inn wasn’t haunted and he didn’t have the only spare room in the entire town. Holly, Suze, and Beanie—those were the characters Gemma mentioned. Tertiary characters in the books, people with one scene or two, and barely mentioned again.

I tried to imagine any of them kissing Anders, riding off into the sunset with him, and the attempt made my hangover return with a vengeance—my stomach twisted, my chest hurt. Anders was probably on his way back from the hardware store by now, so I sped up my pace.Butterscotch was lounging in a sun spot in the window. He gave me a lazy look, as if he knew exactly where I’d been and what I’d done.

And, to my eternal regret, so did his owner.

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