Don't Let Go

Thank God I didn’t have to be at the store till nine o’clock. Which I was late for, rolling in around 9:45.

 

“I’m so sorry,” I said, rushing in the door fifteen minutes before the parade started.

 

Ruthie was finishing sales and directing people to the hot chocolate on their way out. She gave me an exasperated look as I ran behind the counter to relieve her. I was better there. She was better out on the floor, doing the actual mingling thing.

 

I got a once-over and a raised eyebrow as she took note of my jeans and white lace sweater.

 

“Liking this casual thing once you crossed over to the dark side?”

 

I smiled at a customer as I bagged up her books and thanked her. “A bit tight for time this morning.”

 

“Doing what?”

 

When I rang up the next customer without answering, she leaned over in my face.

 

“Is Patrick back?” she whispered, mischievously.

 

I scoffed. “No!” Laughing, I said, “Don’t you have people out there to be all festive with?”

 

After fifteen minutes and a lull in the activity, she hit me up again.

 

“Okay, chica,” she began, her voice low for the three people still in the store. “You are all glowing and crap, you need to spill—”

 

Her words stopped abruptly as her eyes fell on my left hand. Grabbing it, she held it up to me as if I needed to be made aware of the violation.

 

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “What the living hell is this?”

 

“It’s me,” said a voice behind us. We turned to see Noah strolling in, hands in his jacket pockets and a lazy smile on his face.

 

My bones melted inside me, and it was sheer force of will to stay on my feet. I instantly wanted to curl up all over him and do naughty things.

 

“Hey,” I said with a smile, my skin tingling all over when he placed a soft kiss on my lips. I think I was trembling. I looked at my hand. Most definitely wiggling a little.

 

Ruthie’s eyes went back and forth between us, widening progressively. “This is new.”

 

“Actually, it’s pretty old,” Noah said, patting her shoulder. “Which makes you old, as well. You gonna have a problem with me?”

 

She frowned like she’d woken up in the wrong movie and twisted her hair up in a messy clip, as if that would clear the fog. “Possibly. You plan on being a dick again?”

 

Noah grinned. “See, it’s that charm that makes you special.”

 

“I’m not joking,” she said, smiling for the minimal public but shooting ice daggers from her eyes. “I don’t know what happened between yesterday and today, and I’m pretty sure I’ve missed something key, but if you’re coming in here with PDAs and doing this again”—Ruthie lifted my hand with the string still around my finger—“you’d better damn well not be messing around.”

 

My personal mama tigress. I loved Ruthie.

 

Noah’s face got serious. “Do I look like I’m messing around?”

 

“Found that I’m not a great judge of character when it comes to you,” she said, her eyes narrowed. “So I don’t know.”

 

“I’ll have to prove my intentions then,” he said.

 

“We’ll see.”

 

“Wow,” I said. “Y’all realize I’m right here, right?”

 

A smile entered his eyes as he looked at her, oblivious to what I’d said. “Hmm, a challenge, Ruth Ann.”

 

She gave him a sarcastic smile. “Lots of heavy books in here to pummel you with. Don’t test me.”

 

“I’ll restrain myself,” he said.

 

“Just don’t be a dick,” she said.

 

“I won’t,” he said.

 

“Then we’re good.” She picked up some bestsellers from a display and started to walk up front with them, displaying them for effect before the parade started. “You’re sure?” she asked me, pausing as she passed.

 

I smiled and hugged her with her arms full of books. “I’m positive. And hey, I need to talk to you later. Before we leave tonight.”

 

“That sounds ominous.”

 

I shrugged. “Not ominous. Just a thought.”

 

Outside, the parade was beginning, and thanks to a pretty day we could prop the doors open a bit so people could mill.

 

“Snowflakes,” Noah said on a laugh. “Never understood that.”

 

“Oh, don’t even get me started,” I said.

 

“Still a skeptic?” he said. “I remember it snowing the day Seth was born.”

 

The pang to my gut was still there, but followed by a face. A happy face.

 

“Yes, and today it’s now over fifty degrees and sunny. So I don’t see snow in our future. It’s not like Groundhog Day.” I scoffed. “I see a lot of melted soap later.”

 

“Supposed to get cold tonight, though,” Ruthie said. “Saw it on the forecast. Big blast coming through.”

 

Georgette Pruitt drifted by, all plump and happy on her trailer of white flowers, followed by a giant snowflake-encrusted castle, manned by none other than Becca and Lizzy’s family.

 

We hooted and hollered and generally did everything we could to embarrass her, but I didn’t miss her questioning glance at Noah’s arm resting on my shoulders.

 

I texted her, Yep.

 

She texted back OMG with a smiley face.

 

The communication generation.

 

“So, what are you doing tonight?” Noah asked in my ear as another truck went by with fluttery white things that were intended to be snow but really looked like aliens.

 

Hopefully, a repeat of the morning. If he kept talking that close to my ear, however, things could very well take care of themselves. My nerve endings were so hyperaware of him, it wasn’t taking much.

 

“No plans, why?”

 

“Come to the carnival with me?”

 

Oh, blech. I gave him a beseeching look. “Really?”

 

“I haven’t been in decades,” he said.

 

“I assure you, you were bored then, and we always found other things to do,” I said. “It hasn’t changed.”

 

“Humor me,” he said, his voice a whisper, his eyes dancing. “I want to walk around town with you tonight. Eat chili and fried everything. Celebrate today.”

 

I watched his lips as he spoke, and I wanted to lick them. Okay, so he’d brought out my more carnal urges.

 

“You play dirty,” I said. “Not fair bringing Seth into it.”

 

“Told you I don’t play fair,” he said, staring at my mouth as well. “Is Becca home tonight?”

 

“No, she’s staying another night at Lizzy’s,” I said.

 

“Then I promise I’ll make it worth your while after the carnival,” he said, pulling me close to him.

 

 

 

• • •

 

 

 

Ruthie and I were cleaning up after a very chaotic, productive day. “I’m proud of you,” she said while she ran the sales tape for the close of the day. “You actually watched the parade for once. Can’t remember the last time you even bothered to go outside for that.”

 

“When Bec was little,” I said, collapsing into a chair. My muscles were stiffening up a little from the morning’s acrobatics. I smiled as I thought about that.

 

“Bullshit,” she said. “I’d take her out there and you’ve always had something else to do.”

 

“Customers,” I said, gesturing around me as if there were hoards to prove it.

 

“Oh, whatever,” she said. “So, was it Noah’s influence that got you out there?”

 

“No,” I said, scoffing. “Maybe it was just a good mood? I do have those. And Becca was in it, so I had to watch for her.”

 

“Maybe it was a sex high,” Ruthie said, giving me a cockeyed questioning look.

 

“I vote for that,” I said, raising my hand.

 

“I knew it!” she said. “I knew you had that just-laid look about you.” She laughed and threw a stale cookie at me.

 

I took a bite. I wasn’t proud. I didn’t have time to go get lunch.

 

“I’m hoping I have that look again tonight,” I said. “But I have to go to this stupid carnival first.”

 

Ruthie sighed. “Annnnnd . . . the Grinch is back.”

 

“Please, you don’t get tired of it?” I asked. “We hear that damn music all day, smell the grease all day. You want to go back at night?”

 

“Sure!”

 

“Well, you’re demented.”

 

“No, you’re just tainted,” she said. “This year’s different.”

 

“Oh, my God, so different,” I said, laying a hand on my chest. “I need to call Seth again, speaking of that. He didn’t answer earlier.”

 

“Listen to you,” Ruthie said, stopping. “Did you ever think you’d be able to say those words?”

 

I smiled. “I know.”

 

“So, what did you want to talk to me about that wasn’t ominous?” she asked.

 

I looked at her for a couple of beats, taking a deep breath before making the jump. Hope you’re okay with this, Mom. And if you’re not, I really don’t care.

 

“Settling.”

 

She frowned. “Settling on what?”

 

I shook my head. “I don’t know what I’d do here without you, Ruthie. Especially the last few weeks while I lost my mind.”

 

Ruthie laughed softly and came to flop in the chair across from me.

 

“No big deal, that’s what we do,” she said.

 

“No, that’s what you do,” I said. “You take care of me. You always have. But you also took over the store.” I gestured around us. “You ran the place. And let’s be honest, you were doing most of that already anyway.”

 

Ruthie shrugged. “I enjoy it, Jules. I love this store. We grew up in here.”

 

“I know,” I said. “But I never fell in love with it like you did.”

 

“That’s just because you mom shoved it down your throat,” she said, chuckling.

 

“No—I mean, yeah, that’s part of it,” I said. “But also I’m just not wired for this. Running a business.”

 

“What are you saying?” Ruthie said, leaning forward, looking concerned. “That you want out?”

 

I looked around me, at all that my mother had created and handed over to me. Never settle, baby.

 

“I settled on my whole life because my mother told me to,” I said. “Gave up my son, my dreams, and my guy because she said to. Took this store—even moved into her house because she designed it that way.”

 

“Jules,” she said, pulling my attention back. “Where are you going with this?”

 

I took a deep breath. “I want to sell the store.”

 

Ruthie sat back, looking conflicted.

 

“To you,” I continued.

 

Her jaw dropped. “Holy shit,” she whispered.

 

I grimaced. “Is that good?”

 

She waved her hands around in lieu of the words that eluded her. “I—I don’t know. I’m kind of—wow.”

 

“Well, you said you wanted to start a business, and I know this one’s not new, but no one I know has the passion and drive to take this place on like you do,” I said. “And I wouldn’t just leave, I’d stay to help you with anything you need. I just have other things I want to dive into.”

 

“I’m—blown away,” she said, getting up and sitting on the arm of my chair to hug me. “Oh, my God, Jules, this is surreal, my head is spinning.”

 

“So is that a yes?” I asked.

 

“Well, let me talk to Frank about it, but let’s whisper yes right now and yell it on Monday,” she said.

 

I laughed and hugged her again. I had thought that would be difficult, but once I started it was like the store was jumping to get away from me. I couldn’t really blame it.

 

“Oh, my God, and I got a rocking chair!” she said, pulling back. “I forgot to tell you.”

 

“That one I failed you on?”

 

“Nope. A better one at Old Tin Barnes,” she said. “I saw Savanna Barnes at the bank and she hooked me up. She had one much more rustic, and cheaper, and Frank is making it awesome.” Ruthie stopped and hugged her arms to herself. “Oh, wow, and it might be the first thing I put in my store,” she whispered.

 

It was contagious, her giddiness. Like watching Becca see everything ahead of her.

 

Ruthie shook her head free and smiled, her eyes shining. “So, what are these things you want to do?”

 

“No concrete plans, but—Becca suggested some art classes, and—”

 

“Yes!” she exclaimed, jumping up and making me laugh. “It’s about time you got reacquainted with your freaky self! I used to love your artwork.”

 

“Well, I’ll have some time and money, now that Becca is putting off college a year—”

 

“Wait, what?”

 

I laughed. “Yeah, that’s another story. She’s going to work on her writing.”

 

Ruthie backed up and studied me. “Who are you?”

 

“That’s the exact thing Becca said,” I said, smiling, feeling the weight of old crotchety me lifting by the minute.

 

“Well, you are stepping outside your box, that’s for sure,” she said.

 

“It was time.”

 

“Just think of that tonight at the carnival,” she said, to which I groaned. “More box-stepping,” she said. “You can do it.”