CHAPTER ONE

 

Her life had turned into a rerun that nobody wanted to see. She winced as scenes scrolled through her head. Dakota Conroy looked around her drab bookstore and sighed. The only hint of color was on the back wall, but the orange paint was faded and peeling. Out of all the stores on Main Street in Bristol, Delaware, hers had the same run-down look as her life. The frayed upholstered chairs and nicked wooden bookshelves looked as bad as she felt. What she needed was a spark of something fresh.

Her last customer circled the end cap of books and made her way back down the romance aisle. If she didn’t make a selection soon, Dakota vowed to do it for her.

“Uh, Ms. Donald, we closed twenty minutes ago. If you can’t find something you like, I can make a selection for you. We put together our weekly reading list this morning,” Dakota called as the woman opened another book and stared at the pages.

“Oh, sweetie, I’ll know it when I find it. Don’t you fret about me. Just go on and do what you need to do.” She gave Dakota a dismissive wave.

Dakota cut her eyes away. “Yeah, but would you be happy if I locked you in here tonight?” she mumbled as she closed the register.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing. Tell you what…consider those books in your hand a gift from me.”

“What’s your hurry tonight?” Ms. Donald dropped the books on the counter and watched as Dakota bagged her purchase.

“I’m expecting a call.” Dakota wished she was more excited about hearing from Brian, but their conversations were just a rehash and she hung up always wanting more.

Dakota walked out of the bookstore behind Ms. Donald and locked the door. If she didn’t hurry, she would miss the call. Another whole week of waiting before she heard from him again was about as appealing as traffic court.

She parallel parked in front of her house and ran up the stairs. Inside, she ditched her coat and purse in the hall closet and made her way to the kitchen. Garlic hummus from the refrigerator along with whole grain chips from the pantry made up dinner. At the kitchen counter she used a chip to dig a hunk of the thick spread from the plastic container while staring at the phone.

This was no way to spend another Friday night. Running home from the bookstore, eating dinner from store-bought containers. In the beginning, the waiting was easy. Boasting that her boyfriend was doing volunteer work in Haiti sounded noble, but the varnish on that tale wore thin fast when her friends went on real dates, with real men, to real dinners while she stuck close to home waiting for the phone to ring. She flopped on the sofa and placed her dinner on the coffee table.

With the remote pointed at the television, she turned to her favorite network, HGTV. Halfway through the renovation show, the phone rang.

She answered. “Brian?”

“Hey, Dakota, I can barely hear you.”

“How’s it going? She spoke louder, relieved to hear his deep baritone voice. She turned off the television to give him her full attention.

“It’s good. But conditions here don’t seem to change, no matter what we do. There is so much more that needs to be done.” His lament was the same lament every week.

“At least you’re trying.” She tried to keep him encouraged by being the dedicated girlfriend with the pep talk he needed. What she wanted to know was when he planned to come home, but asking seemed selfish when others needed so much help.

“Dakota, I have something to tell you.” His voice softened.

“Okay, I’m listening.” Dakota hoped she sounded upbeat. If he needed money again to help out another family, she wanted him to feel okay asking her for the donation.

Static crackled across the line.

“It’s…long…I’m…coming…I…to…Central…”

“Brian, you’re breaking up again.” She spoke louder, hoping he could hear her. “Can you call me back?” She sat on the edge of the sofa, knowing the call would get disconnected soon.

“I…remote.”

“Brian, I can’t hear you.” She held the receiver away from her ear and looked at device. “Brian?” She shook the phone. “Brian?”

The line went dead. She continued to hold the phone, hoping for something magical to happen. What was he trying to say? There was something different about his tone. Maybe after a year of volunteerism, he was ready to come home and start a real life with her.

What did he expect her to do? Be miserable too, in order to show her dedication to him? What was the acceptable time limit before she could complain about being alone?

After several minutes, she put the phone down and made her way to the refrigerator. She peered inside for something else to eat. Filling the empty pit in her stomach might ease the loneliness a little. Dakota grabbed an apple and bit it while leaning against the counter. He’d sounded so serious. There was something in his tone that demanded attention.