My mind reeled, and Drew looked at me, concerned. I was speechless, and not sure why. Like my long lost great uncle had died that I didn’t know and yet suddenly knew intensely. I’d just seen him in the park, not even a week ago. I mean, he wasn’t some spring chicken, but he didn’t look ready to die, either.
And to die alone.
“Oh my God, Carmen,” I said. “How is Sully?”
“He’s—I don’t know, he’s still there,” she said. “He’s with the ME, and told me to stay home and call everyone.” I could hear the tears in her voice, and the awkwardness as well. “So, I’m calling everybody I can think of, and Lanie’s asleep but I talked to Nick. Bailey wasn’t close to anyone but Sully, and had no family, so—God, why do I feel so gutted?”
“I know, I hear you,” I said, clutching my stomach. “I feel really—like it’s personal. I mean, I lease the flower fields from him, but I only just met him last Saturday.”
“What?”
“Last Saturday,” I repeated. “I saw him at the park. By the gazebo.”
“That’s not—I don’t think that’s possible,” Carmen said.
Not possible? It was as real as the donuts I’d been holding that I went straight home and inhaled.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he was bedridden except for a wheelchair,” she said. “Sully went to see him to check if he needed anything before we left three weeks ago, and he said the ME is roughly estimating he’s been gone about that long. Just off of the state of the body. Sully said it’s—it’s bad.”
“No, that can’t be right,” I said, standing. “I’m not kidding, Carmen, I talked to him in the park last week. And—hold on, Lanie said she talked to him there, too! I think it was the week before. He told her she looked radiant. He told me to keep the faith, that I’d get what I want eventually, or something like that.”
“Did you touch him?” she asked. “Because sometimes touching him can make you think things—”
“Nope,” I said. “In fact, he wouldn’t let me.”
She sighed over the phone. “I don’t know what to say until I talk to Sully more, but he said something about a folder and tomorrow, so I guess I’ll call you tomorrow.”
We hung up, and Drew gave me an exasperated look. “Drop a girl a bone, will you?”
“Mr. Bailey,” I said.
“The old man in the woods who owns the town?”
I met her eyes. “He died.”
“Oh, wow.”
“Yeah.”
“You look weirded out,” she said. “I didn’t think you knew him other than wiring payments.”
“I don’t,” I said, sitting back down. “I didn’t. Until—the other day. I don’t know, it’s all so bizarre.” I looked at her. “Drew, can I spend the night on your couch? I don’t want to go to the shop.”
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket.”
“I know I could go to Mom and Dad’s and have a whole room to myself and feel safe, but that would come with so many—”
“Questions,” she finished, nodding. “Yeah, no way. I get that. It’s why I lived out of my car for the first month I was back, before I got that first apartment.”
I frowned, my disturbed thoughts derailed by her words.
“What?”
She stopped and looked at me. “Shit, sometimes I forget that you were younger then and I didn’t tell you things.”
“I don’t remember you living in your car.”
“That’s because no one knew,” she said, disappearing into her bedroom. Coming back out with a thick blanket and a fluffy pillow, she deposited them next to me. “I couldn’t afford the apartment yet, and I wasn’t about to go under interrogation.” She shook her head. “Not then.”
I leaned forward. “Why did you come back?” I asked, thinking it was now or never on that answer. We were actually sharing for once, and if she was ever going to tell me, it was now. “What happened?”
Drew kept walking, checked the thermostat, put up the ice cream, grabbed her wine glass and rinsed it in the sink, all before she turned back to me and sank onto a chair.
She gave a sad smile. “A story for another time, okay? There’s enough crazy going on tonight.”
“Fair enough,” I said, picking up the blanket and spreading it on the couch. “There’s certainly that.”
“And little sister?” she called over her shoulder as she toted a basket of dirty clothes to her little mini washer.
“Yes?”
“Our conversation isn’t over,” she said. “So what if he’s a Roman, so what if he’s part of Wild Things? So what if he spilled a few beans tonight in a fit of frustration? The guy has been cock-blocked twice with you now, his brain is not on prime operating mode.”
I chuckled at that. I was still mad. But she had a tiny point. Microscopic, but there.
“You have a good man circling you, Gabi,” she said, steadily tossing clothes in, her back to me. “Don’t throw that away. You don’t always get it back.”
* * * *
The next morning, I was up with the crows since Drew had coffee brewing by four a.m. and there wasn’t really anywhere to escape it. Therefore, me and my fuck-me boots and wrinkled sexy skirt headed home for what looked like morning-after shame. My mother was already at the shop at a quarter to five because she shared Drew’s early morning insanity. Awesome. How lucky could I be?
Mom looked up in surprise as I unlocked the door and slipped in.
“Gabi?” she said. “Good Lord, girl, you gave me a start. I thought you were upstairs safe in bed.”
I grimaced with déjà vu. “I think we had this same conversation almost twenty years ago.”
Yep, it was that same look, as her eyes scanned my appearance.
“Well,” she said, going back to her invoices. “You’re a grown woman, you can do whatever you do.”
“Okay,” I said, giving her a thumbs-up as I headed for the stairs. I didn’t feel like explaining why I was at Drew’s. I didn’t have the mental fortitude. “Hey, I got a call last night that Mr. Bailey died.”
She set her pen down and shoved her glasses up on top of her head.
“Oh no, that’s awful!” she said. “I mean, I’ve never met the man, but he’s sure done a lot for Charmed.”
“Yes, he has,” I said. “It’s sad.” I gestured toward the stairs. “I’m gonna go wake up in the shower now.”
“There are fresh towels,” she said. “I loaded it up last night.”
Of course she did.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“You need to start running again,” she called after me as I trudged upstairs. “You’ll feel better about things.”
“Mm-hmm, thanks Mom,” I repeated.
A shower and change into sweatpants, a tank top, and a hoodie, and life did feel rebelliously amazing. I was comfortable, and me. None of the rest mattered. In fact, I could just dress that way for the rest of my life, because I never needed to look like a woman again. Thatcher would stay in Cherrydale for the duration, probably avoiding crazy baggage-laden females for the rest of his years on the planet. Any other men—well, let’s just say Thatcher Roman pretty much ruined all of them for me. Even pissing me off royally, no one would ever measure up.
I didn’t know what that said about the whole feelings theory.
Yes, I did.
I just wasn’t talking about it. Ever.
I threw on my sneakers, knowing my mother would give me a look for how I dressed for work—she was one of those dress for success people and always liked for us to represent the shop with a nicer wardrobe—but today just wasn’t that day. Today, someone had died, and it felt weird. Today was a day to just be happy to be alive. It was a fresh-faced, smile at the world, because it’s kicking you in the ass and sweats will cure anything day. I laughed to myself as I trotted down the stairs, thinking I could officially tell my mom I ran, and nearly took out the perennial magazine rack when someone was standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Someone like Thatcher.
Micah and Leo were there, too, but—Thatcher.
“Fuck!” I yelped, grabbing the rack before it face-planted across the tiles.
“Gabi!” Mom said, in that eternal admonishing way that makes you feel fourteen.
“Sorry, I—what are y’all doing here?” I managed, trying not to think how it looked like a double date, or how that made my heart speed up, and simultaneously trying not to look him in the eye.
“You didn’t get the text?” Micah said. “Or any of mine?”
“Text,” I echoed, patting my empty hoodie pockets. “Where’s my phone?” I spun around as if that made sense. “Crap, I must have left it in the car. What’s up?”