Page 80 of One Chance to Stay
There was no stopping her. I think the bonfire had officially gotten under her skin. I hoped this bought her all the goodwill she deserved. Seeing hundreds of people watching the ice skaters or gathering around the bonfire, I think she created something special. If nothing else, the six-foot-tall logs ablaze made for quite the spectacle.
With a lull in customers, I rested on my elbows. To my surprise, I had already run out of business cards for Harvest & Vine. The adults were excited to hear about the tastings. I evenhinted at something in the works between them and Bistro on Maine.
I spotted Grace trudging along the snow, dodging a wayward snowball. Much like Evelyn, she layered to the point where I doubted she could lower her arms. Style went out the window when it came to surviving the winter. I appreciated the mismatched colors in the pursuit of warmth.
“Not yet.” I didn’t tell her I kept scanning the crowd looking for Seamus. I’d be disappointed, but he always found a way of making a dramatic entrance, even if it was begrudgingly.
“He’ll show,” she assured me. “But in the meantime—” She pulled off a backpack, thrusting it in my direction. “I know you haven’t quite decided on your career path, but I thought these might help.”
Taking the bag, I pulled back the zipper to see it filled with thick, oversized books. Sliding the thickest one out, I couldn’t help but smile. “Introduction to Psychology?” Much like Jon, Amanda, or even Bonnie, Firefly proved there was something heartwarming about this tiny community.
“If you want me to look over schools?—”
“University of Maine,” I blurted out.
She held her hand up, waiting for a high-five. “Don’t leave me hanging.” I slapped her mitten. “Welcome to the club, fellow Black Bear.” Everybody in Maine wore hoodies from the college, making it impossible to know who actually attended. Now, when I wear mine, it’d be a symbol of pride.
“What made you decide?”
“I’m not quite ready to give up the bartending gig.” I studied her face for a moment before deciding she was more a hot chocolate woman than frigid cocktails. “Classes in the morning, and I’ll have plenty of time between that and opening the bar.”
I sprayed a healthy dose of whipped cream along the top of a hot chocolate before handing her the cup. “Youaregood.” Shedidn’t waste any time licking the top. “Have you figured out what you want to do after?”
“Nope.” It felt liberating to admit it.
“Not at all?”
“It’s a little scary to say it. One step at a time. I have a direction.” I gave her a slight smile. “That’s more than I had when I got here.” Less than two weeks ago, I stood on the side of a mountain, contemplating my future. Now I had an application to the University of Maine sitting on my bed. I had found a path forward, and it involved everything I loved about my life.
“Thanks.”
She cocked an eyebrow, apparently a Finnigan family trait. “Why thank me?”
“The first day we met.” It was easy to drown in the awkwardness of first meeting Seamus’s daughter. Despite that, all I could recall was the excitement in her voice. “You were so excited to tell the family. I know it won’t all be like that, but it’d be worth it, you know?”
“You’ll be great at it.”
The insecurity bubbled to the surface. “How do you know?”
She reached over the counter and gave my cheek a gentle pat. “You’ve already helped one person.” I couldn't believe they were related. At some point, I’d need to ask about her mother. Grace inherited all the outgoing genes.
A man not much younger than myself wandered toward the shack. The man didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the town. He had plenty of girth, but not nearly enough mirth. He got close enough that I waved him over. I couldn’t leave somebody drowning in their thoughts during a Firefly festival.
“Make that two.” Graced followed my eyes to the man before giving me a wink. I set her backpack and books behind the counter. What was about to happen had little to do withtechnical know-how and more to do with that innate bartender magic.
Sadness. Even with the exuberance of children laughing, his head hung down. Anybody with a set of eyes could see he was down on his luck. He’d want a cocktail, but something told me he needed the comfort of a delicious hot chocolate.
“Quite the spectacle, right?” He didn’t respond as he leaned against the counter. Switch tactics. “Going to do some skating?”
Slight shrug. Thanks to Seamus’s teasing of my outfit when we first met, I knew the answer. Nobody would be wandering about the snow in nothing more than sneakers, jeans, and a hoodie.
“What brings you to Firefly?” He glanced up. “The sneakers gave you away.” I slid the hot chocolate in front of him. “It looks like you need this.” I sprayed a mountain of whipped cream on the drink. “Nothing better than a good sugar rush.”
He cracked a smile. A solid beverage and a friendly tone worked every time. I reached across the counter. “My name is Patrick.”
My mystery gentleman had no option. Either be rude and ignore, or — “Nick.” He shook my hand. “I’m visiting with my…” His expression soured. “…wasvisiting with my boyfriend.”
I gave him the quick once-over, not because he was gay, but because he fit in with Firefly’s growing bear population. Chubby man with a goatee? At this rate, they’d have to hold Bear Pride parades.
