How (Not) to Fall in Love(29)

“The Stones? He’s following the Rolling Stones?” I asked Toby. We leaned against the pillows on my bed. He stretched and yawned, then closed his eyes.

Dad’s card didn’t make any sense. Even if that ancient rock band was touring, they wouldn’t be playing in the middle of nowhere. But just in case, I googled it. Nope, not touring.

What was in Rolla that could possibly interest my dad? I looked at one of the town’s visitor websites. A university. Lots of outdoor activities and an abundance of trout streams. My dad hated fishing. I scrolled down to the bottom of the page and my breath caught.

“Stonehenge revisited.”

I clicked the link. Photos of a partial replica of the original Stonehenge filled the page. I skimmed the description. The henge was on the university campus, built by engineering students back in the 1980s. Holy shiz. Still following the Stones. I grabbed my cell and called Mom.

“Darcy, what is it? I’m in the middle of showing a house. I’ll call you back.”

“Mom, I think I know what Dad’s doing. He’s chasing Stonehenge.”

There was a long pause. “What are you talking about?”

“His latest postcard, from Missouri. There’s a henge replica at a university there.” I ran down the stairs, nervous energy shooting through me like fireworks. “I bet we can find him. I’ll look online to see where the other replicas are.” I yanked open the pantry and grabbed a box of crackers.

“Darcy, you’re not making any sense. I need to go. We’ll talk later tonight.”

“But I—”

The call disconnected. Damn it. Why wouldn’t she listen to me? This was a huge freaking clue about what Dad was doing. I tore into the box of crackers. Toby padded into the kitchen and looked up at me with hopeful eyes.

“Fine, you greedy dog.” I grabbed the box of Scooby treats and tossed him a couple. “But this means no skipping our run tomorrow.” I was proud of myself that I’d resumed my goals. For a while I’d slacked off, especially on the mornings I found Mom passed out on the couch. But lately, on days I didn’t want to run, I heard Dad’s voice and his stupid quote about even the slowest runner still crossing the finish line.

Lame. But I still ran.

I spent the next hour scouring websites about Stonehenge replicas. They were all over the country. I found one in Ingram, Texas, which explained Dad’s first postcard. I needed to plot the henges on a map. Dad had a whole shelf full of atlases in his office.

Opening the office door, I looked around the room, feeling his absence more keenly here than anywhere else. I grabbed the biggest atlas and ran upstairs to my room, threw the oversized book on the bed, and opened to the U.S. map. Using a red pen, I starred all the states with henges. Kansas, Kentucky, Michigan. New Hampshire, Virginia, Washington.

How could I possibly figure out where he’d go next?

My phone alarm beeped and I realized I was due at Liz’s in an hour. I needed to leave now to catch the bus, since the Reaper guzzled so much gas and I was trying to save money.

The sleuthing would have to wait until later.

Sal called me as I waited at the bus stop. “You’re working tonight, right?”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t contain my excitement at the first hope I’d had in forever. “Sal, I think I found out something about my dad. I might know what he’s doing.”

“You’re kidding!” she exclaimed. “What?”

Bus exhaust fumes filled my nose. “I’ll have to call you later. It’s a long story.”

“I never see you anymore.” She sounded like she would be pouting, if she were a pouting kind of girl. “There’s a party tonight. You should come after work. You can tell me all about your clue, Dr. Watson.”

“Actually, the correct reference would be Sherlock.”

“Whatever, brainiac. Will you come to the party?”

The bus shuddered to a stop in front of me. “Maybe. Text me later.”

“Ciao.”



Liz untied her “Kiss me, I’m over-caffeinated” apron and hung it on a hook. She wore the necklace I’d made for her. She wore it often, and had been bugging me to make more jewelry to sell in the coffee shop, claiming that customers kept asking where they could buy a necklace like hers.

“You’re in charge, darling,” she said. “Time for Charlie and me to hit it.”

It was my first night to close the shop by myself. I’d logged enough time with Liz and enough solo afternoons that she’d decided I was ready. Still, she assured me, “Lucas will come over to help you lock up and make sure everything’s okay.”

My stomach tightened. I hadn’t seen him since the bead incident. I still felt a little hurt and embarrassed that he’d laughed at the idea of kissing me. Some tiny part of me still hoped that someday he’d see me in a kissable light, but more likely I was another sister to him, just taller and snarkier than Pickles.

“Do I really need his help?” I asked.

Liz raised an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

I blinked at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She packed up her tote bag, watching me curiously. “You two get along so well. I thought you’d be happy to have him swing by to help.”

“Uh, yeah.” I paused to breathe. Exhale stress. Inhale calm. “It’s fine if he helps. I just…just wanted to do it on my own. You know?”