Page 24 of The Ruse of Romancing
“That’s it,” she said. “We’re getting you another hobby, something to help you recharge. Otherwise, you’re going to burn out, and none of us are going to see that second book.”
I hesitantly stood, watching as Joane bustled around the room, flipping the Open sign to Closed and flicking off the lights.
“Why are you closing early?” I asked, packing my laptop into my backpack and waiting to see what Joane would say next. I’d double checked the hours listed on the door before I’d settled in to write, just to be safe, and though the bakery wasn’t open for dinner on Mondays, Joane said she typically kept it open a littlelonger for anyone who wandered in looking for a sweet treat or late lunch.
“Because we’re leaving the bakery and you’re coming to my house,” she said, as if it was the most obvious conclusion in the world. She opened the shop door and waved me through.
“Umm, why?” Honestly, the exchange should have been setting off alarm bells in my head seeing as a near stranger was expecting me to follow her home, but instead of being concerned, I was simply curious.
“Because I’m introducing you to Carl. Though you can’t tell Joyce Campbell. If she found out, I’d never hear the end of it.”
My mind was spinning as I tried to make sense of what she was saying. “Who’s Carl and why does Joyce care?”
Joane let out a huff and threw her hands up in the air, clearly only hearing half of my question. “If I knew why Joyce Campbell cared about anything, I’d fill my shop up with everything she hates and chase her away for good. Unfortunately, I’ve yet to find the secret to making that happen, so instead I do my best not to tick her off. But trust me, if she knew I introduced you to Carl, let you take a piece of him,” she stopped to shake her head, “let’s just say, for all of our sakes, it’s better if no one from town, least of all Joyce, learns about what we’re about to do.”
Joane had only answered one of my questions and the fact that she was giving me a piece of Carl had me very confused. Was Carl a person? A pet? Neither option boded well for me or for Carl. Maybe he was one of those plants that propagated ridiculously fast, and Joane was going to try to turn me into a plant lady. Something that would only end in disaster given the number of dead and dying plants that currently dotted my windowsill back in Utah, plants I was just realizing I’d forgotten to ask Avery to water while I was away. The last thing I needed was more plants to murder.
For my own peace of mind, I really needed Joane to clarify who Carl was; however, I didn’t dare repeat my question. Maybe if I rephrased it, I’d have better luck.
“So, we’re going to meet Carl. And what are we doing with Carl?” I had a writer’s imagination and none of the scenarios I was conjuring in my mind were good.
“Giving you a new hobby, of course!” Joane said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. But I couldn’t, for the life of me think of hobbies that involved pieces of a guy named Carl that didn’t end terribly.
If Carl was a pet, maybe Joane made things out his fur. I’d once gone way too far down a social media rabbit hole watching videos of people who repurposed their dog’s and cat’s fur. And while I found the hobby mildly disturbing, I also had to admire the creator’s ingenuity as they somehow turned a tuft of golden retriever hair into a miniature golden retriever.
I studied Joane carefully. She didn’t strike me as a cannibal or a swinger, especially given that she’d made it very clear earlier in the day that she was divorced, but what did I really know about the woman? We’d met twenty-four hours earlier and, while I liked her, I technically didn’t know her well enough to determine if she was secretly a serial killer or had some kind of fetish involving tourists and Carl.
Lost in my thoughts, I missed what Joane said next. Instead, she just stood next to the bakery door looking at me expectantly.
“Sorry, I missed that,” I said sheepishly as I walked to the door, my laptop bag slung over one shoulder.
“I said, go get in your car and wait for me while I finish locking up. I won’t be long.” She impatiently gestured for me to leave. I had the feeling when Joane got an idea, it took an act of Congress to get her to change her mind.
Deciding it couldn’t hurt anything and that I wouldn’t win if I tried arguing, I left the bakery and walked around to the parkinglot. If nothing else, yesterday’s unexpected bookstore interaction had led to inspiration for today. Maybe following Joane home would do the same. Perhaps that’s what I really needed, new and unexpected experiences that could force me out of my funk.
Maybe I should have given Allen my number yesterday, instead of playing it safe, though I still couldn’t decide if he was flirting or just friendly. But giving him my number would have been an unexpected, new experience on an entirely different level, and I wasn’t as alarmed by the possibility as I probably should have been. Possibly a vacation romance without strings attached was exactly what I needed. Perhaps my neighbor with his lothario ways had the right idea. Veronica from the other night hadn’t looked the least bit upset when I’d caught the two of them in the driveway. And Tiffany had enjoyed herself enough to plan another trip to this sleepy little town for a chance at round two with Mason. Not that I was about to take Mason up on his offer from Sunday night, but I would consider a similar offer from Allen.
And if Allen was looking just to be friends, I could do that too. Were vacation friendships a thing? It could be worth it to find out.
Shaking myself from my musings involving a certain handsome, clean-shaven man, I unlocked my car and settled into the driver’s seat, flipping through radio stations until I found a song I liked.
Not sure how long I’d have to wait for Joane, I pulled out my phone to check for texts. With internet still out at the duplex, I was quickly learning to take advantage of the moments I had reception. While I felt like I was going through a bit of withdrawal from the cousin chat, the limited distractions without a functioning phone were good when I could focus on writing.
Normally, I’d text Sadie my every thought and reaction, but she was currently at a family reunion with her other, less cool, side of the family, and I wasn’t sure how responsive she’d be.
With Sadie unavailable, I decided I should update Avery on my plans just in case Joane chose to unalive me, I typed out a quick text in response to her last message requesting a progress report:
Dani:
If you haven’t heard from me by bedtime, I’ve probably been murdered.
Or turned into a swinger.
Or a cat lady.
Really, anything’s possible at this point.
Avery:
