We spotted a help-wanted ad you (or a friend) might be interested in. D&T Tree Service is looking to hire an experienced foreman and we can vouch for their business practices and great customer service. If you or somebody you know is interested, contact Laura Thompson!
—Stonefield Gazette Facebook Page
Callan didn’t want to unlock the library doors this morning. Usually it was one of his favorite parts of the day, but his heart wasn’t in it. Not today, when that heart was broken.
Another restless night thinking about Molly. Another day of his first waking thought being regret. At least today he’d been smart enough to skip the café. Lack of sleep and thirty-six hours or so of her not being his fake girlfriend had weakened him to the point he was afraid if he saw her, he’d drop to his knees and beg her to take him back—for real this time—and to hell with his hopes and dreams.
Instead, he’d filled a travel mug at home and left his house earlier than usual. It took a lot of restraint not to look up at the window over the garage as he walked past, and he made it to the library without running into anybody who wanted to stop and talk.
But judging by how fast the news he was Molly’s boyfriend had spread through Stonefield, he knew there was a good chance some of the patrons who walked through the door today were going to know he wasn’t her boyfriend anymore. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about their “breakup” because maybe his mind knew there were quotation marks around that word, but his heart didn’t.
He’d messed up. It wasn’t the first time in his life he’d done it, but it was certainly the worst. This was the first time the mess he’d made of things was probably going to haunt him for the rest of his life.
He shouldn’t have broken up with Molly. At least not like that—as if he’d just been pretending for the last two months, the way they’d intended. He should have told her the truth. He’d been afraid if he told her it wasn’t fake but had to end anyway because he wanted children, she’d blame herself. Or maybe even feel pressured to change her mind.
He should have told her that he loved her, but that he was afraid he’d eventually feel unfulfilled and resentful if he gave up his dream of having a family. Maybe they would still have ended up in this spot, but at least she would know he loved her.
She deserved to know that. She should know that a man had loved her just the way she was, even if he’d broken both their hearts.
“Do you have any books about building beehives?”
Callan fixed a smile on his face and turned away from the framed black-and-white photo of the library he’d been staring blankly at. “I believe we do. Are you interested in keeping bees?”
“Absolutely not,” the patron said as she followed him through the stacks. “But my husband is and he ordered some kind of starter kit from the internet, so now I have to learn everything about it so I can make sure he’s doing it right.”
Lucky him, Callan thought. “I’m sure the bees will appreciate that.”
It didn’t take long for him to find the woman a couple of books on the subject, and he also wrote down some helpful internet links he found while she browsed the new fiction titles. He’d taken a peek at her address and was relieved the bees would be residing on the other side of town.
Much to his dismay, Laura Thompson was the first patron to broach the subject. She came in to renew two books, which they both knew she could have done online. Lane’s mother was such a nice lady and he’d hated lying to her about the dating. He was going to hate lying about the breakup even more.
“I hope the rumors about you and Molly breaking up aren’t true,” she told him, the sincerity in her eyes making his stomach hurt.
“They are, I’m afraid. It was mutual, though. We just want different things out of life.” None of that was actually a lie. They’d mutually decided to break up the day they’d decided to fake date. And they did want different things from life.
“I’m sorry to hear that. You made such a lovely couple, and Paul and Amanda think the world of you.”
The ache in his midsection spread to his chest. He thought the world of them, too. Sure, there were times he thought they could try a lot harder to understand their daughter, but they were nice people.
“Molly and I are still going to be friends, though I’m sure it’ll be awkward for a little while.”
“These things are always awkward for a while, especially in a tight community like ours. I hope you won’t let it keep you away from the others, though. I know Lane likes you, and even though it won’t be easy at first, you’ll all move past this. You’ve become almost like family—and not just because you were dating our Molly—so give it time. And you’re always welcome at the Thompson house, Callan.”
Emotion welled up inside of him, clogging his throat, so all he could do was nod for a moment until he got himself under control. “Thank you, Laura. That means a lot to me.”
Once she’d gone and he was alone, Callan sat in his chair, put his elbows on his desk and buried his face in his hands, trying to process it all.
He wasn’t alone anymore.
He’d come to Stonefield because he wanted to be a part of a community. He’d even gone along with an outlandish fake dating plan to protect his place in that community. And it had worked. He had a job he was thriving in. He was a part of a vibrant, tight-knit community. He had made good friends who, yes, were almost like a family to him. And he’d fallen in love with a warm, chaotic, funny woman who he now believed loved him, too.
Was that enough?
He didn’t know. But there was one thing he did know for sure and that was the fact this life he’d built for himself in Stonefield was not enough without the woman he loved.
Molly sighed when a tear landed on the sticky note she’d just written, smudging some of the ink. It was still readable, though, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad.
1. Confirm any accommodations needed for service dog for Smith calling hours & service.
2. Return library books (because, UGH, of course they’re due today).
3. Remind yourself over and over it was never real.
She knew she shouldn’t have put number three on the list. Sure, it was technically actionable—a task she could check off at the end of the day. But it was going to hurt every time she looked at the sticky note, which would kick in her avoidance tendencies, and avoiding her number one tool for managing her life wasn’t a good idea.
After crushing the sticky note in her hand, she tossed it across the room in the direction of the trash can. Of course she missed, but she’d pick it up later. She dried her eyes and took a few sips of her coffee. Then she took a fresh sticky note and started over.
1. Confirm accommodations for service dog for Smith calling hours & service.
2. Return library books.
3. Treat yourself to something decadent at the Perkin’ Up Café because you’re awesome and you’re worth it.
That was much better. And if she hurried, she could drop the books in the book drop before the library even opened, and then go straight to number three. Once she was fully caffeinated and had shaken off the misery of a sleepless, tearful night, she’d lock herself in her office and tackle number one.
Unfortunately, fate in the form of her father had other plans. He and her mother had come across an accounting discrepancy with a supplier and it wasn’t the first time. They’d both tried, but they couldn’t nail down what was happening. Molly might not be the best at straight math, but she was excellent at finding patterns and solving puzzles, and they needed her to do it before the video sales conference Paul had with them that afternoon. He wasn’t going to commit to more product if there was something shady going on.
It was almost lunchtime before she was able to tell her dad it looked like their software was charging several items incorrectly each time, but it seemed to be a glitch in the supplier’s system and not deliberate on their part. Even though she wasn’t in a great mood, she refrained from pointing out Amanda should have caught that a long time ago.
Of course she was too late to put her books in the book drop and run, since it was locked during their open hours. But she wasn’t up to seeing Callan, so she renewed them online even though she’d already finished them and would probably drop them in the book drop in the morning.
Then again, if she held on to them for the two additional weeks, she should be past the initial hurt and be able to see Callan again without dying a little more inside. She wasn’t giving up her library, so she was going to have to get over it at some point.
Just not today.
Hoping the lunch rush wouldn’t start for a while, she went to the café to reward herself for her mad accounting puzzle skills with whatever caffeinated drink came with the most whipped cream.
“Oh honey,” Chelsea said when she stepped up to the counter. “I don’t even know what you’re ordering, but I know it’s going to need an extra shot of espresso. You look even worse than you did yesterday.”
“I think yesterday it still didn’t feel totally real. Today, it feels real. Also, I want extra whipped cream. Extra, extra whipped cream.”
“You haven’t actually ordered a drink to put it on yet,” Chelsea pointed out.
“I want whatever comes with the most whipped cream.”
Chelsea made her an iced macchiato with a huge swirl of whipped cream on top. And then she set the can next to the cup. “You get free whipped cream refills today.”
The lunch rush was starting and Molly was in the way, so she took her drink and her whipped cream to her favorite table before somebody else got it. She was a quarter of the way through the macchiato and half the can of whipped cream when her phone chimed with a text message from Gwen.
Did you hear the library closed early today? I ran into Amy at the market and she said there’s a sign on the door saying there was an emergency and regular hours will resume tomorrow.
Molly’s pulse quickened at the thought of Callan having any kind of emergency, but she didn’t give in to the immediate urge to call him or run out the door. He wasn’t hers to worry about. He never had been, technically.
She typed a response to Gwen, though. Did you hear the librarian’s none of my business anymore?
By watching the dots appear and disappear, she knew it took Gwen three tries to come up with a suitable response to that.
Okay.
Very Gwen, she thought. But then she thought maybe her own text message had been more rude than she’d intended and sent one more.
I’m sorry. Thank you for letting me know. Hopefully it’s more of a plumbing emergency than a people emergency.
She got a thumbs-up emoji and a fingers crossed emoji in response, which Molly took to mean she was forgiven for being snarky and that Gwen hoped it was a plumbing emergency, too.
By the time she finished her macchiato—but not the whipped cream because apparently there was a limit to how much of a can a person could inhale—she couldn’t take it anymore. Ruse or no ruse, they were still friends, weren’t they? Or they would be eventually, when the sting wore off. That was what he said he wanted. Picking up her phone, she took a deep breath and pulled up the text message chain with Callan.
Are you okay? I heard there’s a sign on the library door that says there’s an emergency.
The response came so quickly, Callan must have had his phone in his hand.
Are you at home right now?
I’m at the café. What’s going on?
Nothing bad. Can we meet at your place?
So much for her plan not to see Callan today. She couldn’t imagine what the emergency could be, though, and she really wanted to know. It couldn’t involve her family or any of Mallory’s family because she would have heard before the librarian—probably. But she definitely would have heard by now. And she couldn’t imagine what kind of library emergency she could help with.
But there was one way to find out.
I’ll be there in a few minutes.
She didn’t run because...well, she didn’t run ever and if she tried, she’d probably only make it halfway before she’d have to call somebody to come pick her up. But she walked at a brisk enough pace so she was slightly out of breath when she turned the corner. Luckily, the pulse quickening that seeing Callan waiting outside her door caused wasn’t enough to send her into cardiac arrest.
He inhaled sharply when he saw her and there was a nervous energy about him that Molly hadn’t seen before. When she got close enough, he started to reach out, but then he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Can we talk for a few minutes? Privately?”
“Of course.” She led him up the stairs, wincing as she opened the door because she hadn’t been at the top of her executive function game for the last couple of days and her apartment looked like a tropical storm “after” photo.
He didn’t seem to notice. As soon as the door closed behind them, he ran one hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “I’m sorry, Molly. I shouldn’t have ended things between us the way I did.”
“I always knew it was coming. It’s what I signed up for.”
He shook his head. “No. What we had was absolutely not what we signed up for because it was real. I didn’t have the guts to tell you that, so I kept pretending it wasn’t.”
Hearing him finally say it took her breath away, and she owed him the same truth. “Yes, it was real. All of it.”
“I know we agreed to fake date,” he continued. “But what I felt—wanting to be near you and craving you and falling for you—none of that was ever fake. I never had to pretend you were the person I wanted to spend my time with.”
Tears blurred her vision and she swiped them away with the back of her hand. “I never had to pretend I wanted to spend my time with you, either.”
“Molly, I need you to know...” He stopped and breathed in slowly before taking something out of his pocket and holding it out to her.
It was a simple white folded card, like the kind you’d write a name on and set behind a plate for a dinner with assigned seating. And her name was written on the front in his tight, neat handwriting with one of the blue gel pens he favored.
Then she opened it and her breath caught in her chest.
I LOVE YOU!!!
He’d written the words in fat, red permanent marker with three exclamation points. And he’d underlined the word LOVE three times. There was even a lopsided heart doodle.
“All caps,” he said, and though his voice sounded rough, she couldn’t take her eyes off the words on the card. “I’m not great at expressing myself in all caps, though I’m getting better at it with you in my life, but I wanted you to really know that I do love you in all caps.”
“Callan,” she whispered. “But—”
“I’d sit in the dark and drink questionable milk with you, Molly. I mean, we won’t have to because I have my bills automatically paid online and I would buy fresh milk, but I would if that’s where we ended up.”
“I love you, too,” she said, tears spilling onto her cheeks. “Not fake love, either. I really do love you.”
She gave in to the impulse to throw herself into his arms and he caught her, holding her tight. His cheek pressed against the top of her head and they stayed that way for a long time. Molly closed her eyes and savored the feel of his arms around hers for the first real time.
“Laura came to see me at the library today,” he said without letting her go. “She wanted me to know it would all be okay and they would all still be my friends and that I’m always welcome at her house.”
“Laura’s super nice.”
“And when she said I was almost like family, it made me realize that I’ve been focused on having children to make a family for myself, but I’m becoming part of one. And you...you are my family.”
She was shaking, a deep tremor that sometimes happened when her emotions were becoming overwhelming. Pulling back slightly, she tipped her head to look up at him. “Speaking of our found family, Mallory helped me see that me not wanting a child because of the ADHD would be like if my parents had known and chosen not to have me. And it’s hard sometimes, but I wouldn’t give up my life. So maybe I shouldn’t give up my hypothetical kids’ lives.”
She saw the understanding wash over him and the hope flare in his eyes. But he very gently set her away from him before cradling her cheek in his hand.
“I don’t want you to make any choice because of me. It is your choice and I’m going to love you no matter what. I know that now and it’s the truth.”
“Do you know what Chelsea said to me? She asked me why my kid can’t have a notebook.”
“And sticky notes,” he said.
“See?” She laughed and slapped his arm. “It made me think about how you took the time to research how my brain works. You let me talk through movies and you know how to distract me when I can’t get out of my own head and all these ways that, instead of trying to make me be like you, you help being me be easier.”
“I can color outside the lines with you,” he promised. “And when there is coloring to be done that has to stay in the lines, then I’ll hold the crayon.”
“I believe you, because I’ve felt it. I know what it feels like to have your acceptance and support and I believe in my heart that when we have kids, they’re going to thrive because you’ll let them. I trust you to make them feel loved even when it’s hard.”
“When,” he whispered. “You didn’t say if we have kids. You said when.”
“I think we’ll have amazing kids, Callan. Amazing kids that will spend four hours watching one ant, but two minutes to brush their teeth is too much. And they’ll remember every commercial jingle they’ve ever seen, but not where they left their retainers.”
“Yes. And we’ll advocate for them and love them and buy so many sticky notes we’ll get Christmas cards from the office supply store.” He brushed her hair back from her face. “I love you, Molly.”
“I love you, too.” Then she laughed because she couldn’t contain her happiness anymore. “It feels so good to say that. I’m going to say it a lot, you know. Probably while you’re trying to watch a movie.”
“And I’ll pause it even if it’s a good part because there will never be anything I like more than hearing you say it.”
“I’m a lot.”
“Yes, you are. But you’re never too much. You’re just right for me.”