Page 17 of Love and Pumpkins
“No, you?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend either,” I quip.
“Boyfriend?”
“No, I’m too busy.” Understatement. “Besides, my ability to find someone I’m compatiblewith is broken.”
“Tell me more.”
“You don’t want to hear my disastrous dating history.”
“Actually, I do.”
“Why?”
“I find you interesting.”
“You’re misguided, my friend. I’m boring. I work, worry, sleep, and repeat.”
“What do you worry about? Seems like you’ve got good things going for you. You own your own business in the town where you grew up, and you’re surrounded by family and friends.”
“That’s all true. And then there are the challenges, too. For instance, the building is eighty years old and needs constant attention.” I feel my heart rate pick up a little steam and force myself to take a breath. “I have a repair estimate sitting on my desk right now that is causing me to lose sleep.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes. The furnace broke and needs an overhaul before the weather turns cold. We’ve had unusually warm weather lately, but it won’t last much longer. My sister and I live in the building and need heat and I can’t open the boutique without heat in the winter. Chloe’s not the only one I worry about, either. I have local vendor partners who depend on the store to supplement their incomes. There are two single moms earning money in the shop, three seniors, and two families with young kids. Income from the shop helps put food on the table. That’s pressure.”
I feel winded and need to take a deep breath before I pass out. I plop down on a nearby bench. My hands aresweaty, and I feel nauseous. I’ll have to take a caramel apple home with me.
Hunter sits next to me and puts a hand on the back of my neck, squeezing gently. “Hey, it’s all right. You’re going to be all right.” His voice is soft, and I lean closer to hear him. He’s like a beacon in a storm. He rubs small circles on my neck with his thumb. It’s soothing.
The nausea passes and I lean back. “Thanks,” I say, turning to him. He’s so close, I can see flecks of gold in his green eyes.
I remember the first day of kindergarten. I was too terrified to walk into the classroom. My mom stood at the doorway and told me to go in on my own, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t until a little boy grabbed my hand and said, “Let’s go!” that my legs could move and I entered the classroom.
That little boy was Hunter. I remember his hair was so light blond that I thought it was white at first.
I guess since graduating, I’ve held onto the terrible memories of Hunter and forgotten the many positive ones. They’re coming back now.
When I was in fifth grade, I missed a week of school because I was sick with the flu. Hunter came over every day to go over the lessons and homework so I wouldn’t fall too far behind. My mom made him sit on the other side of the room and wear a bandana over his mouth, which made him look like a train robber, but it was amazingly kind of him.
I take a deep breath, maintaining eye contact. “Thank you for calming me down. I didn’t mean to dump all that on you. Ignore me.”
“No way. Wish I knew how to fix a furnace. I’m better with my brain than tools, but I could try.”
“No, thanks! I need it fixed, not broken further.”
“What’s the damage?”
“Damage? I don’t know, exactly. It’s all malarkey to me. Something about the motor.”
He laughs, grabs my hand, and leans in. “No, financial damage. How much to fix it?”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t want to know. It’s the gross domestic product of a tiny island in the Pacific Ocean.”
He shakes his head and pulls me up. “Yeah? That sounds pretty crazy. I think you might be exaggerating.”
“Maybe a bit, but I’m telling you, I really need tomorrow to be a grand slam as far as sales go. Like extra runs.”
