Page 61 of Broken Dreams
And that’s the truth.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to know now. Also, Grady may or may not want something more, but that isn’t what you two need to decide. To your initial point of it being three years since your husband died, there’s no timeline for dating after loss. You and I both know a number of people who decided to never date again. Then there are people like me who struggled with how fast they developed feelings for someone else after loss. There is guilt on all sides of the puzzle and plenty of it to go around.”
I know that she’s right on the one part—there is no timeline, but I’m not getting any younger.
“I want more kids. Isaac and I wanted at least four. I think that man would’ve gone for a baseball team if I would’ve agreed. I’m an only child and I hated it. I was always jealous of Isaac and his sister. They were best friends. Elodie already is without her father and I want her to have a sibling too, preferably before she’s ten.”
Brenna laughs. “Well, there’s nothing saying you won’t find someone, but you want to find the right someone. A man who will love Elodie like she’s his and be there for you when you need him. I wasn’t ready for Jacob when he came crashing into my world and I definitely had no intentions of a relationship. I’m not saying it’ll happen with Grady, but I’m also not saying it won’t. Until then, enjoy whatever this is, because we know better than anyone that life is short.”
Yeah, we really do.
She continues on. “And wants and desires change, even when we think they won’t.”
* * *
Today is the town’s fall chili competition.
It’s one of my favorite events, other than the dance-off, mostly because I like watching Connor pout after he loses to Phoebe, but this one is special to me.
I love food. I’m also the judge, which is a huge honor and a coveted one. The year I moved here, I was named judge, as I would be the most impartial as the newbie.
For the last week all the town’s people have been preparing and perfecting their recipes, as well as attempting to bribe me, which...well, it’s not really allowed, but it’s also widely done.
This year, Devney and I will walk around, try not to pass out from the intense amount of spices used, drink enough milk to stop the burning in our mouths, and see which town person we’ve pissed off when we crown the winner.
Last year, Lynn Parker won. Which made me her favorite and I’ve gotten cookies and casseroles once a month as a thank you to my impressive tastebuds.
I’m pretty sure I picked her because I’d lost the ability to taste by then, but my co-judge, Albert, said it was definitely the best. I stopped at the corner store to get a candy bar before I lose my sense of taste from the chili.
“Hello, Addison, darling. You’re simply glowing today,” Mrs. Cooke says as I place my KitKat on the counter.
“You are as well, Mrs. Cooke.”
“Oh!” She waves me off. “Hodgepodge. If I’m glowing it’s because the light is nearing me and I’m avoiding walking to it.”
“Nonsense. You aren’t a day over twenty.” She’s actually probably not far off on that light theory, but she’s the sweetest woman and a town icon. She and Jimmy have run this store since they married when they were nineteen years old. It’s a staple in this town and also where the old ladies hang out for the gossip.
“Addison, is that you?” Mrs. Symonds comes out from the back. “It is. Hello, dear.”
“Mrs. Symonds,” I say, worried because if one more lady pops out, I’m a goner. I look to Mrs. Cooke, wanting to pay so I can get out to the chili set up and make sure someone hasn’t tampered with the judges’ cards. It happened last year. “Is it two dollars?” I ask.
“What? Oh, yes,” she says as she rings it up.
“Are you all ready to judge?” Mrs. Symonds asks with a little lilt in her voice.
“I am.”
She nods. “That’s nice. I wish you luck.”
The way she says it and the weird look in her eyes makes me wonder if she really does wish me luck or she’s informing me of something.
Come to think of it, this group is really more of a trio. A trio of retired women who love to sit around here, watch the comings and goings of the town, and inform everyone of what little piece of information we should know.
“Where’s Mrs. Parker?” I ask, noticing one is missing.
“Lynn?” Mrs. Cooke asks.
As though we have more than one. “Yes, she’s usually here with you both.”
