Page 22 of Against All Odds

This isn’t a date. It’s dinner with a neighbor.

I look down at my jeans, tank, and long cardigan and nod. It’s casual. Totally casual.

Then why do I feel like my heart might beat right out of my chest?

I hear a car door close, take a few deep breaths, and smile as I walk to the front door, opening it before he can knock.

“Hey,” Everett says with a grin.

“Hey.”

“The benefits of living in a small town, you always hear when a car arrives.”

I smile and nod. “Very true.”

He hands me a bottle of wine. “Thank you for having me.”

I take it, grateful for something to hold on to. “I think you’re the one being thanked, so thanking me kind of negates the first part.”

He chuckles. “My bad.”

“You’re forgiven.”

Everett follows me in and lets out a small laugh. “This place is exactly like I remember.”

I smile. “Some of my favorite times were in this house. When Granny died, I knew I didn’t want to change anything. It’s the best decision I made to keep it frozen the way I remembered. Well, other than the lumpy seat cushions and the really uncomfortable bed. Otherwise, I love it all.”

When I think back on my life, this is where I was always happy. Sure, it was a vacation of sorts, but there was more than that. It was a place where I could just be who I was. Granny never tried to mold me into what my parents wanted or force me to be something I wasn’t. She was happy for me to wade through life, figuring out which way the waves were going to take me.

“Maybe upgrading the heating wouldn’t have been a bad choice.”

I laugh. “No, I’m already in the process of doing some small things, like the stove is ancient, and I’m not sure it’s actually close to the temperature it says it is.”

That was my lesson from yesterday. I am a nervous baker. When my life feels out of control, I can always rely on the chemistry and the oven to provide a consistent outcome. I put the batter in, take the baked goods out, and it’s edible.

I went grocery shopping after the heat was on, grabbed my supplies, and then had to run out to get a thermometer and realized the oven is about eighteen degrees off. As shitty as my day of experimenting was, I’m grateful I figured it out before I tried to make us dinner.

Lasagna wouldn’t exactly be one of those dishes I could just finish on the stove.

“I’m sure at your house in California you had top-of-the-line appliances.”

While I don’t think he means it with any form of judgment, I feel the condemnation in my chest.

The people of Ember Falls aren’t like the celebrities and wealthy people I spent time around. They don’t care about designer labels or what kind of car you drive. They care about people and helping your neighbor, not one-upping them.

“We did, but I don’t miss that.”

Everett leans against the counter. “You don’t?”

“I mean, I miss some stuff. Having a working oven was a plus.”

He laughs. “I’d imagine so. What else? There has to be some good stuff there.”

There was, for sure. I try to think of the one thing I miss the most since coming here. I miss Ana and Eleanor, but ... oh, I know. “I really loved this bakery that was down the street. It had the best pastries, and I swear they imported dough or water to make it taste so good. I used to go every day and the owners were so nice. They’d constantly add new things to the menu so I wouldn’t get bored of it. It was the best part of my day.”

“I can’t compete with that, but we do have cows.”

I snort a laugh. “That is something.”

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