Page 18 of Dear Adam
“He’s precious,” she coos with a smile. “Pretzel sure seems to be smitten.”
Pretzel is using Hank’s tail as a chew toy, clearly desperate for attention from him. In that moment, I almost slip and mention the pictures she's been sending to Adam, which makes me think of his phone. I had it in the front pocket of my carry on…which is now in the house. How could I have forgotten to bring it? Do I tell her I have it but forgot it, or is it too awkward now?
“How are you doing?” she asks, noticing the way I’m absentmindedly rubbing my shoulder.
“I can’t complain,” I respond, dropping my hand. “I went to see Adam earlier.” Her shoulders slump the slightest, but she meets my gaze with a practiced smile.
“Thank you for checking on him.”
“The nurse came in while I was there. She wouldn’t say much but made it seem like he might be doing a little better,” I say in my best attempt to comfort her.
“Yeah, he’s stable, which is a good sign.” Unshed tears well in her eyes. She quickly turns her back to me, adjusting a vase on the shelf behind her, but I don’t miss the way she swipes at her eyes before turning to me again. “Let me show you that toilet.”
She leads me to the back of the store, toward the sound of running water. When we reach the bathroom, I move around her, trying to ignore the way my heart practically leaps out of my chest when our hands barely brush. Once I pull off the lid on the tank, I adjust the chain to the flapper, and the water immediately stops running.
“How did you do that?” she asks, astonished.
“Must’ve just needed my touch.” I grin and wipe my hands off on a towel by the sink.
Aly’s shoulders slump and her brow furrows. “Usually I’m pretty good at fixing stuff like this. I’ve basically YouTubed my whole way through my cottage renovation so far. I can’t believe I couldn’t figure this one out. Thank God you didn’t come all the way from the West Coast for that.”
If you only knew.“Ah, it’s alright. You know what they say.” She cocks an eyebrow, urging me to continue. “Don’t pet the sweaty stuff.” Aly stares at me blankly. “You know…like don’t sweat the petty stuff? But pet the sweaty stuff.” She pushes her glasses back up her nose, staring intently, and waiting for more. Only…there isn’t more.
“You know what I’m trying to say, right? Like this isn't a big deal at all. It’s totally fine.” Why can’t I stop talking? Mentally, I’m gagging from shoving my foot so far in my mouth. Desperate for a subject change, I ask, “So you bought a cottage?”
Excitedly, she nods, her eyes taking on a whole new sparkle. “It’s right on the harbor. I bought it for next to nothing at a foreclosure auction. My neighbor is nosey, and it needs a lot of work but I’ll get there…one day.” Her nose crinkles. “We’ve just been so busy here—which is great—but it doesn’t leave time for much else.”
“So business is good?” I ask, sweeping my gaze across the room once more. “I can’t believe this used to be an old hardware store. You’d never know it with what you’ve done to the place.”
“Thank you, Levi. We’ve worked really hard on it for the past year, and it’s just now starting to pay off.” She smiles and looks around before her eyes meet mine again. “How are things going out in San Diego?”
“They’re going gre—” I start to say but stop myself. Aly’s built this store up with her bare hands and for some reason, lying to her doesn’t seem like the right thing to do. “Honestly, business isn’t great right now. Nor has it ever been, really. I’ve been out there for ten years now, and we’re still barely breaking even. It sucks, but it’s the truth.” My cheeks redden with embarrassment for unloading all this on her.
“How long will you be in town?” she asks suddenly.
“I’m not sure. Maybe a week or so?”
“What if…” She stops and places a finger on her chin, considering her next words. Once again, her eyes sparkle, and I know I’ll say yes to whatever it is she wants. “What if I help you with advertising your business on social media? You don’t have any, right?”
I shake my head side to side, secretly thrilled that she’s tried to look me up online.
“In return, you can help me at the cottage with all the stuff that YouTube can’t teach me.”
“Like what, exactly?” I ask.Please don’t say any more plumbing. I really hate plumbing.
“Plumbing, mostly,” she answers. And dang it, she looks so cute with her hands clasped in front of her chest and a smile as big as the Montana sky that I can’t help what comes out of my mouth next.
“It sounds like we’ve got ourselves a deal.” I hold out my hand for her to shake, fully aware I hadn’t planned on staying in Charleston long enough to get any sort of meaningful work done on her cottage but unwilling to back out now. When she slides her hand into mine, an electric current pulses up my arm and straight to my chest. Did she feel that, too?
She breaks the contact and glances down at her watch. “I’m really sorry to leave, but I’m meeting Emma for dinner, and she’ll get cranky if I cancel.”
It could be wishful thinking on my part, but she seems a little reluctant to go.
“Yeah no worries at all,” I say, trying to hide my disappointment. I refuse to let myself read too much into the way she’s chewing on her bottom lip.
“I’d reschedule if I could, but I know if I don’t go, it’s all I’ll hear about for the next year and half from her. It’s our weekly taco dinner, too.” She scrunches her nose again, and a million butterflies take flight in my chest. “Thank you for doing this though,” she adds quickly. “I really appreciate it. When do you want to come over and take a look at the cottage? I’ll get a game plan ready for your social media too.”
Play it cool, man, I tell myself and scroll through my very empty calendar before answering.
