Page 86 of A Little Luck

Also on my phone when I opened my eyes this morning was a text from him along with a photo that melted my heart. He was in the bed, looking back over his shoulder, and Ryan was passed out with Fudge curled up at his side, that funny cat with his yellow eyes watching over them.

Our little man… My chest squeezes at the words, at the two of them together. They’re my whole world wrapped in a blanket, and I want it so much.

Tapping back quickly, I reply.

Hope you were able to sleep. He expands to fill the space he’s given.

I add a laughing emoji and toss the phone onto the passenger’s seat before pulling out to make the short drive to the distillery.

It’s located a few miles outside of town, down a lonely, two-lane road. I think about what happened to Britt on this road as I cover the distance, and the strange man who showed up at the newspaper office returns to my mind. Something about him felt familiar, like a dark shadow from a dream or a memory too distant to recall.

I have the strangest urge to talk to my mom about him, to see if she knows anything or maybe recognizes the woman’s name. Perhaps it’s nothing more than his persistent manner and Raif’s overprotective response, but even if the person he’s searching for isn’t in Eureka, I’m curious about who she is and why she left him.

It’s probably just my nose for news—or Jemima’s rubbing off on me with all her gossipy questions. One thing’s for sure, I wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley alone. His creepy eyes and creepy manner twist my stomach, and I wonder if Raif is right. I wonder if he’s not gone, which makes me further wonder what the heck Raif plans to do about it.

Deciding it’s not my business, I put away all thoughts of staring bird-eyes and focus on the wedding and happier things. Not the alarm bells ringing quietly in the back of my mind.

* * *

The distillery rises before me,a set of dark wooden buildings in the middle of an open field, and I pull the Jetta into the empty space next to Alex’s reserved parking spot.

Two large vans are waiting, and I hop out, rushing over to where the men are standing. The biggest one holds an iPad and glares at me impatiently.

“Sorry…” I tap my forehead as he holds the iPad out for me to sign for delivery. “I set my alarm for PM instead of AM, and I didn’t even catch it. Have you been waiting long?”

“About five minutes.” He doesn’t smile, and a bead of sweat slips down the line in my back.

“I’ll run inside and unlock the doors to the event space. You can drive around and start unloading back there.”

“We know what to do.” He’s growly, and I’m not sure a five-minute delay warrants this level of annoyance.

The humidity blew away overnight, and it’s a clear, blue-sky, cool and sunny fall day. It’s the type of day residents in the South dream of, and this guy needs to turn his frown upside down and get in the wedding spirit.

The crunch of tires on gravel is the only warning I get of Alex pulling up in his Tesla. He hops out, and I give him a wave.

“It’s like you’re sneaking up on us all the time in that thing.” I start to tease him when I see the new bumper sticker and quickly add, “Chunky.”

A broad smile splits his lips, and he could accurately be described as glowing. “Yeah, I’ll get her for that one.”

I only laugh. He and Cass have been pranking each other with silly bumper stickers since she started nannying for him over the summer.

It’s almost as exciting as the mysterious signs that have been appearing all over town for the last few years. We never know what they’ll say, but at least with Alex and Cass, we know who’s doing it.

A few cars and a white truck pull into the parking lot, and the extra staff pile out. They’ll help set up the round tables and chairs for the guests, the platform for the live band Alex helped me find, and the long tables to hold the chafing dishes and platters of food.

“I’d better get inside.” The words are just off my lips, when the florist’s van rolls past us, picking up speed. No one is in the driver’s seat, and the sliding side door is wide open.

“What the hell?” I turn as it passes.

It’s moving faster, and large arrangements of flowers start flying out like grain spilling from a bag. Alex and I are momentarily stunned, watching it blaze across the half-empty parking lot, when all at once a large guy appears, running hard after it.

Sweat traces down his face, and he’s yelling, “No, no, NO!”

“Holy shit!” I shove my coffee into Alex’s hand and chase after him. “Not the flowers!”

The guy catches up to the side of the van, but when he grabs the driver’s side door, it flies open, sending him spinning out across the gravel lot.

I dig my heels in, pumping my legs and doing my best to run faster, but it’s too late. The van crashes into the small ditch behind the large Stone Cold sign, and Ficus trees in clay pots crash out onto the curb.

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