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Authors: Katy Regnery

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Literary, #Contemporary Fiction, #Sagas, #Literary Fiction, #Romance

Meeting Miss Mystic (11 page)

BOOK: Meeting Miss Mystic
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“That was a long time ago, Zoë. You know, I didn’t even say yes to a date with Rob until after Carly was gone and I was so lonesome for her. I remembered what she said about Rob the next time he came in with white flowers for me and Grammy. I was so sad and he was so nice…I gave him a chance, almost more out of respect for my dead sister than any other reason. And you know what? She was right. She sure was right. Rob’s not a rock star, but I’m puking three, four times a day and Rob’s telling me I’m beautiful. And you listen to me, Zo, ‘cause it sounds like my voice, but it’s your mom talking. You gotta go to Montana.”

Zoë swallowed uncomfortably, hating the fact that there was a teeny, tiny part of her that loved Sandy’s suggestion, that embraced it, that had already decided then and there—without asking Stan for a week off, or buying a ticket, or figuring out how the heck to tell Paul what she needed to say—that she was headed to Montana.

“But, how I look…”

“Just be yourself,” said Sandy, reaching over to hold Zoë’s hand. “From what it sounds like, he’s already in love with you.”

“You’re a better aunt than I ever was,” Zoë whispered, tears springing into her eyes.

“That’s not true. You love Brandon. You’ll all find your way back together again one day. I know it. And little Carly here knows it too.” Sandy rubbed her stomach lovingly then stood up, her palms braced on the table. “Speaking of little Carly, I’m gonna go throw up. Then you’re gonna to buy a ticket to Montana and then we’re heading to the mall to get you a few new things for your trip before I go in to work.”

***

Holly hadn’t written her Good Morning e-mail and by noon Paul’s heart ached from missing it.

He started to wonder if he’d made a massive mistake in telling Holly he was coming to visit. But he kept circling back to the same thought: he was ready to meet her and his feelings weren’t just going to go away. He’d been straight with her from the beginning about not wanting to be pen pals. About wanting to know her on a special level. She hadn’t shut things down and had always seemed as into him as he was into her. He was taking Maggie’s advice and giving Holly a little time and he just hoped that she would come around, see things as he did, and trust him to come and visit her.

Another thought suddenly occurred to him and it broadsided him, making him feel panicky. What if he had pushed her
too
far? She lived in Connecticut. It wasn’t like he could stop by her house after school and put things right. If she chose, she never had to write to him again. She could change her cell phone number and never look back. And he’d have all his life to regret pushing her when she wasn’t ready to see him yet. The thought made a cold chill run down his spine. He hated feeling regret. He hated feeling helpless. Today was not getting better.

He could smell barbecue grills heating up all over town as he sat on his back swing next to Cleo, forcing himself not to text her or e-mail her or call her. Some Labor Day for him. He’d been invited to many barbecues, but he didn’t have the heart to go. Later, he’d check out the fireworks in the park, but mostly just to be sure no high school kids were hiding out behind the school getting drunk and/or pregnant. The afternoon stretched before him open and endless, his thoughts besieging him no matter how hard he tried to keep them at bay.

“What do you think?” he asked Cleo, who looked up at him and wagged her tail expectantly. “You think I should go to one of those barbecues?”

She stared at him then cocked her little head to the side, as though trying to understand.

“Nah. I’m no good today.”

“When’re you
ever
any good?”

He looked up, surprised to hear Lars’s voice, and watched his best friend make his way around the porch and up the stairs.

“Hey, Lars.”

“Paul. Cleo.”

Lars pulled up a chair and put his booted feet up on the white porch railing.

“Don’t you have about a hundred parents who want to make you a hot dog today?” Lars asked with an easy grin.

Paul shrugged. “Not in the mood.”

“Since when?”

“Huh?”

“Man, you’re acting weird lately. Movies in the afternoon and missing barbecues. Since when are you not in the mood to go hang out with your students and their families?”

“I’m just not. Can you leave it alone?”

“Sure.” Lars looked away from Paul out at the park “Want to come to the park? I’m tracking some grizzlies. Mama and cub getting closer and closer to the road.”

At the mention of the word “park” Cleo jumped off the swing and put her front paws excitedly on Lars’s leg, her tail wagging hopefully.

“Nah,” said Paul. “Sorry, Cleo. Not up for it.”

“Come on,” said Lars, scratching under the little dog’s chin and glancing over at Paul. “Cleo’s up for it. I could use the company…and some advice.”

Paul straightened up a little, distracted by something other than Holly for the first time all day. Lars Lindstrom didn’t ask for advice. He was about the most relaxed, happy-go-lucky person Paul knew. Paul and Lars could spend four hours huddled in their ice-fishing shack on Upper Slide waiting for a bite and never say anything of real importance to one another over the course of a whole afternoon. But Paul loved Lars like a brother, and whatever Lars needed, Paul was only too happy to help.

“What’s up?”

“There’s this girl…”

“Park girl?”

In the Lindstrom family vernacular, “park girls” were young women who came to Gardiner to hike in the park, looking for adventure and a little romance on the side. Lars—and his brother Erik, before Erik got married and moved away—had regularly hooked up with park girls throughout the summer. They never got serious with any of them, of course; they were harmless flings. However, Paul had warned Erik and Lars for years that some girl was going to get her heart broken and create a mess. He wondered if that’s what had happened.

“No! No. Well, I mean, she’s here for the park, but she’s not a
park girl
. She’s with the, uh—the photo shoot I’m helping with.” Lars looked away from Paul, took off his cowboy hat and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand
.
It was a tell. Lars
liked
this girl. “She’s a real smartass from New York. And she’s not prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, but I’m—I can’t stop thinking about her. There’s something about her and I can’t get her out of my head. She’s all fun and nice one minute, then cool and professional the next. Hot and cold. I can’t tell if she likes me or not. And the voice on this girl, Paul? It’s like honey. It’s like hot, drizzled honey.”

He’s talking about Jane
, Paul realized, remembering Jane’s distinctive throaty voice.
Lars is falling for Jane.
He kept this information to himself. He wanted Lars to feel comfortable talking and he might not if he knew that Paul and Jane had met.

“I don’t know how to help you with that. You think I understand women?”
Fat chance. I had one hang up on me twelve hours ago.

Lars scoffed. “She said she’d go out on a date with me tonight. To the fireworks.”

“Well, hey! That’s good, right? What’s the problem?”

“I think I like her,” said Lars, staring at Electric Peak, his voice soft but firm. “
Like
like her.”

Paul stayed quiet. He felt the gravitas of this admission—when the Lindstroms fell, they fell hard—and Paul sensed there was more to come. Sure enough, he was right.

“I kissed her yesterday,” Lars confessed, still looking at straight ahead. Paul sensed this wasn’t some kiss Lars bestowed on a park girl without thinking. He sensed it meant much more. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?”

“She’s a job. She’s from New York. She’s leaving. I don’t want to get attached to her. Hell, I don’t know what I’m doing. She’s got me all turned around. She’s complicated. I don’t even like complicated.”

Paul thought of what he’d give to have Holly in Gardiner tonight, to be able to take her to the fireworks.

Anything. He’d give just about anything. He’d certainly put up with a little complication.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Paul lightly. “See what happens tonight. Have fun with her. Don’t overthink it.”

“Yeah?”

Paul shrugged, and as he shrugged he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He reached for it, almost afraid to look at the screen. He turned the phone over.

Are you there? It’s me.

“Yeah,” he said, looking up at his friend and smiling. Five words. Just five words and all of the burdens of the morning fell from his shoulders, leaving him hopeful that he and Holly would work things out, after all. “You like her. Just have fun.”

Lars stood up and put his hat back on his head looking mollified.

“Sure you don’t want to come track some grizzlies?”

“Nah. But, I’ll look for you later at the fireworks.”

“Don’t look too hard. I might not want to be interrupted, if you know what I mean.”

“All the more reason to interrupt you then,” he winked. “With Erik gone, someone’s got to give you some hell.”

“Asshole,” Lars muttered with a grin and gave Paul the finger as he made his way off the porch, back around Paul’s house to his truck.

Paul looked back down at the message, anxious to talk to Holly.

I’m here
, he typed.

I’m sorry about last night. I’m sorry I hung up.

Can I call you? Can we talk now?

Okay.

He pressed her number and it rang once before she picked up.

“It’s me.”

“Hey,” he said, beyond relieved to hear her voice.

“Hey. I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t—it’s okay, Holly.”

“I was just really surprised.”

“Yeah, I sort of got that.”

“I thought about it, and you’re right. I need to meet you too.”

Of all the things Paul had expected her say, this wasn’t one of them. Disbelief, excitement and relief fought for his attention at once. “You do?”

“I do,” she said softly. “I just need to get used to the idea, okay?”

“Anything you need, sweetheart.”

She paused for a second and he imagined her smiling as wide as he was.

“Paul?”

“Yeah?”

“What you said last night. Before I interrupted you—”

“Yeah.”

“I just wanted to say…Me too. I’m falling for you too.”

“Aw, Holly,” he murmured, surprised by how hard her words hit him. The most beautiful girl in the world was falling for him too.

She hurried on, her voice nervous and a little urgent. “It’s important to me that you know that. Really know it. Don’t forget.”

“Forget? Sweetheart, I’m going to live on it until I see you in person.”

His heart felt so full he thought it would burst right out of his chest. And that’d be okay. Because Holly was falling in love with him, and there was nothing—nothing—sweeter than that in the whole, wide world.

“Holly, I’m…I wish you were here. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Say you’ll call me tomorrow. Tell me all about the first day of school.”

“You can’t talk any more now?” He wished he could spend all afternoon on the phone with her. Five minutes just wasn’t enough.

“I’m actually at a barbecue. Well, in the bathroom talking to you at a barbecue because I was being so quiet and looking so sad, people were asking me if I was okay. I couldn’t think about anything else…I had to make things right with you. I hated the way we left things.”

“I just passed up the chance to go to Yellowstone with Lars because I was in such a bad mood. Knew I’d be terrible company because I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” he said and he could hear the laughter in his own voice, taking some small pleasure in knowing that they’d been miserable together.

“Not anymore?”

“Nope. One-eighty. I’m on top of the world, Holly.”

She did that light chuckle that he loved so much.

“Stay there,” she said, “on top of the world. I’ll see you there soon.”

“Soon, sweetheart.”

The line went dead and he pressed end.

Soon. He counted quickly in his head. Thirty-seven days. Thirty-seven days! It sounded like an eternity, and yet he knew he should be grateful. When he’d woken up this morning, he’d come close to losing hope that they’d be able to work things out. Now here he was
seeing
her in a little over a month!

He smiled, shaking his head and laughing, and Cleo looked up at him like he was losing his mind.

“Cleo, I can’t stay here all day with you! I have barbecues to go to, and there’s going to be fireworks tonight and tomorrow’s the first day of school, and you know Holly, right? She’s going to want a full report!”

He jumped off the swing feeling ten feet tall. There wasn’t a thing in the world that could rattle his good mood for the rest of today. Holly was falling in love with him and he’d see her sweet face in a mere five weeks.

Westley had finally found his Buttercup and just as he’d always known: nothing—not a little distance or a very unconventional meeting—could stop the course of true love.

Chapter 7

Twelve days and two hours later, Zoë buckled her seatbelt in preparation for landing, tucking her iPad back into her carry-on bag and taking a deep, shaky breath. She’d be on the ground in Bozeman in about fifteen minutes.

Stan was surprisingly easygoing about Zoë taking a week of vacation, perhaps because she’d promised to work her butt off in the days preceding her trip, and she was as good as her word, pouring all of her nervous energy into finishing all of her outstanding projects.

She’d lost another five pounds—partly because her stomach flip-flopped so much in anticipation of her trip, she could barely eat anything! Sandy had taken her shopping at the mall twice, which had made unfussy Zoë uncomfortable at first, but she had to admit that Sandy had a good eye for flattering clothes for her still-voluptuous body.

She shifted in her seat as they broke through the clouds and Zoë almost gasped at the beauty from her bird’s-eye view. She could see a small city and a scattering of suburbs, but the landscape was dominated by mountains and her fingers itched with a longing to try to capture the stunning view on canvas. She shouldn’t have trouble making anyone believe her cover story: an artist coming to Gardiner on vacation to do some paintings in the park. She’d packed a small bag of acrylics, pastels, charcoal and pencils, quality paper with a good nubby texture and her collapsible easel. As long as she was going to be in one of the most beautiful places on earth, she may as well try to capture it.

BOOK: Meeting Miss Mystic
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