Page 22 of Any Girl But You
A million things exist that I need to do, but right now, I need to offset all this negativity. And I know the perfect way to do it. A slow smile spreads. I cross my fingers and hope Quinn will join me in a small adventure. “How about we have a bit of fun first?”
Quinn’s brow hikes and the corner of her lip twitches into a grin. She closes her notebook and tucks the pen in the spiral binding. “I amalwaysup for some fun.”
“Good.” I lift myself from the chair and grab my purse. “Because I know exactly where I want to go.”
TWELVE
QUINN
Okay, so this isreallyfun. Probably the most fun I’ve had since moving back to Minnesota. After Zoey and I scrubbed out a kids’ wagon that a bridal party had used for a wedding photo prop, we loaded it into the back seat of Zoey’s car and drove back to the bakery. It took less than a half hour to package everything in the display case and then we took off with a wagon full of chocolate and raspberry croissants, cookies, macaroons, cakes, and cupcakes.
First, we drove to the animal shelter and dropped off several boxes for the volunteers and workers. Then we went to the salon where Zoey gets her hair done, and one of the local grocery stores (not the one Zoey worked at years ago because apparently there’s a juicy story Zoey needs to tell me about later when they accused her of stealing recipes). And now we’re strolling up and down the sidewalks with the sun beaming on us, stopping at each store on Main Street and handing them out like Mrs. Claus herself.
At the hardware store, Zoey opens the door, and I drag in the wagon behind me.
“Hey, Erica!” Zoey says to the woman behind the counter.
“Zoey, what the heck happened to your store?” Erica says, tugging off her garden gloves. “I went there over lunch and saw the closed sign.”
“Electrical problems, can you believe it?” Zoey tosses up her hands. “Gonna be a few weeks before we open.”
I feel so freaking bad for Zoey. If an unexpected closure happened at my farm, I’m not sure if I’d be able to handle it. And Zoey had seemed frazzled, of course, to the point I thought a swear word was close to slipping from that pretty mouth of hers, but she pulled herself together. And not only did she overcome this huge setback today, she gifted the town with her baked goods rather than dealing with insurance and logistics.
The more I learn about Zoey, the more time I spend with her, the more I like her. Things like giving up a rare day off to sit with me at the Christmas event—even though I’d chewed her out the day prior—shows me her heart. And now, when this chipmunk catastrophe happens, the first action she takes is to brighten others’ days with her baked goods.
Whoisthis woman? And…why is she single?
I step forward with a small box and hold it open to Erica, the same drill I’ve done for the past ten stores. “But may we offer you a box of cookies for you and the crew, compliments of Zoey? Although, to be perfectly honest, I’ve been taking partial credit for the last hour.”
Zoey flashes a smile at me. “You can take full credit. There’s no way I could’ve done this without you today.”
Everything in me warms. This interaction, this entire day, these last few weeks. I feel a blush sweep beneath my freckles.
“Thank you! Yum.” Erica snatches the cookie box. “How’s the tree farm coming along, Quinn? You haven’t been in here for tools lately. Ya musta found yourself a new store, or getting the hang of things.”
Being back in Spring Harbors, I’m constantly reminded of how things are so different than New York. Yes, I grew up here, but as a kid, I either didn’t know or didn’t care about the community’s interconnectedness. At first, it felt suffocating. Like the town plants spies everywhere, ready to tell my parents anything to make them even more disappointed in me than they are already. But now I realize it’s how the community rallies and supports each other.
“Nope, I’m not cheating on you,” I say back to Erica. “I’ve just finally hit my groove. Although, I need to come back later this week for a wood-burning tool if you have it.” Sure, I could get some of these items, often cheaper, online, but there’s something so gratifying about spending my money locally.
Something else deeply gratifying? Spending my day with Zoey.Oof. It’s been a very, very long time since I’ve had a friend like this, and I think this is exactly what my soul needs.
Not to mention she’s cute. She’s so damn cute that even through the chaos and sweaty foreheads and rushing to save her products, she continually catches my eye. And when she stripped down to that white tank in her kitchen, flashing me more skin than she probably meant, everything in me revved.
Yes, I’m a feral woman in my sexual prime, but anyone would flush with jolts of electricity when around Zoey. Sadly,so verysadly, I cannot look at Zoey that way. It’s not respectful, and the last thing I’d ever want to do is objectify her. She was so upfront and honest about wanting a life mate. And I respect that. I do. So, from here on out, I need to constantly remind myself to not be drawn to her mouth, or smooth skin, or the slope of her neck, and look at her only as a friend.
Zoey tucks a fallen strand of hair behind her ear and glances at Erica. “Is Amanda still on maternity leave?”
I swear Zoey is just like Morgan. She seems to know everyone in town, who’s getting married, having babies, who just hadsurgery. She has this sort of quiet softness. People gravitate towards her like she’s a warm hot tub during a snowstorm.
But, for once, I actually do remember that Erica’s daughter—and employee—Amanda had a baby. A “guess the due date” calendar was at the front of the store, where you could drop in dollars on the predicted birth date. Half the pot went to mom, half to the winner. Was it an illegal gambling ring? Yep, kind of. But even a few of the sheriffs joined in on the fun.
Erica crunches into a chocolate cookie and dusts the crumbs from her fingertips. “Yep, Amanda’s going to stay on maternity leave for a few more months. She loves being at home with that little peanut. I bought baby Berkley a pair of denim overalls, but Amanda said I have to wait until Berkley’s at least potty trained before I can put her behind the registers.”
We chat for a few more moments, then step back out onto the sidewalk. The nearly empty wagon squeaks and bobs against the bumps in the sidewalk, and Zoey and I take turns dragging it behind us. Although I’ve had enough sugar to wipe out an entire army of Sugar Plum Fairies, my belly rumbles. “Last few cookies,” I say. “Who’s the lucky winner?”
Zoey stops right outside of the bakery door and steps underneath the pink-and-white awning. Shade falls across her face and she yawns into her sleeve. It’s pretty obvious the activities from today have finally caught up with her.
“I think we’ve done all the good deeds I can handle for today,” she says, blowing bangs away from her face. “Maybe I just toss the rest of the cookies.”
