Approximately Yours (North Pole, Minnesota #3)(39)

Danny rolled his eyes at Elda—he wasn’t sure why, if it was because this was such an absurd date or because he was feeling uncomfortable, but whatever. Why didn’t matter. It made her laugh. And then he was laughing, too. He felt better than he had all day. He’d been so tense, which was silly. He was on a date with this awesome girl who liked him, whom he liked, too. He had to stop worrying about saying the right thing or whether or not Craig had more game than he did. All that mattered right now was Elda. “I love the town hall,” he said.

She was still watching him, brow furrowed.

Craig, who had been attempting to describe the brickwork on Prince’s Summer Sports, folded his arms. “I’ll wait, while you finish your obviously very important conversation.”

Danny’s heart sped up a bit as he told Elda his story and tried to block out Craig’s angry glare. “I remember back when we were kids, you and your grandma built this replica of the North Pole Town Hall, and it was, I think, my favorite gingerbread showstopper of all time. You captured the essence of the place, but with licorice columns and lollipop trees and steps made of marzipan. I remember looking at it and being like, I want to live there.” He grinned down at her. “Whenever I see the town hall, I think about that showstopper. And…well…you.” Now he knew he was blushing. It was the most real he’d gotten with Elda in person. If Craig hadn’t been standing right next to them, this probably would’ve been the time for them to kiss.

Danny waited for Elda’s reaction. She had to give him something—a smile, a nod, a squeeze of the hand, some acknowledgement that this was a big moment for the two of them.

But she stayed lost in her own world. Her face wasn’t relieved or happy or excited or any of the emotions Danny had been banking on. She looked sad, actually. She looked like the admission about her town hall showstopper was the worst possible thing he could’ve said. That probably had something to do with Danny making the rookie mistake of bringing up a girl’s recently deceased grandmother on a date.

Danny, attempting to move on, asked Craig, “What about the brickwork?” And their tour continued, though Danny blocked out every single word. He couldn’t get Elda’s frown out of his head.

Outside the bakery, Craig talked about how the building used to be a haberdashery back in the day. Elda’s arms were folded, and she kept looking off to the side, like she wasn’t listening to any of it. This date was a failure. Danny was a failure. He’d opened up to Elda, and it had been exactly the wrong thing to do. He had shown her a bit of who he was, and she’d rejected him.

When he was with Star, he was always altering his opinions or hiding his true feelings because of her. After they broke up, he vowed not to get into another relationship like that, but maybe that was just how relationships worked and making concessions was all part of the deal. Maybe if Elda wasn’t going to come to him, he’d have to meet her where she was. At least that’d give him a fighting chance.

“That’s very cool, Craig.” Danny had no actual idea what he’d been talking about, but that was pretty much standard when it came to his interactions with Craig. Danny peered into the front window of the bakery. Tinka was inside decorating a tray of cookies. “All the architecture info is great, but what I really want to know is: what’s the grossest stuff that’s ever happened in this town? Where are the literal bodies buried?”

Elda was looking at him now, a faint and curious smile on her face. She reached over and squeezed his hand, which was clutching the handle of his crutch. His body warmed slightly, though he felt like he’d only won the battle, not the war. Things were still kind of odd. She’d frowned at him when he confessed that he’d been thinking about her for years, but she was ready with a hand squeeze at the first mention of dead bodies.

They walked next to each other down Main Street, listening to Craig tell stories about the skeleton that was found under the roof above the Mexican restaurant, and the teenage girl who was hit by a car back in the 1930s and still haunted the gun shop, and the alleged half man-half goat who used to live in the apartment above the dry cleaners. Elda grinned and cheered and squealed as Craig revealed every scandalous detail.

Danny could barely muster a smile. This girl in person was so different from the girl whose words had been all over his phone screen for the past week or so. He’d built their budding romance into something perfect—a neat, precise structure that had met every one of his specifications. But life wasn’t perfect, and neither were people. He wasn’t being fair to Elda, expecting her to conform to this specific little image he’d created in his head.

When the tour finally ended, Danny, whose left leg was about to fall off from overuse, took off toward home with Elda.

“This was fun.” Elda did a little twirl on the sidewalk. “Thanks.” She beamed as the two of them walked down the street. “Those stories Craig told.” Her eyes sparkled. “I love that stuff, don’t you?”

He didn’t, but he liked that she liked it. The fact that Elda was into some creepy stuff made her interesting. “Yeah, sure. I totally love it.”

Elda stopped walking and narrowed her eyes at him. “Liar.” Her hands were on her hips, and she was staring at him hard.

He stopped, too, and leaned on his crutches. He needed a long nap or something. He was physically and emotionally drained from this afternoon. “No, I really like this stuff,” he said, plastering on a big smile. “If it doesn’t seem like it, I’m just beat.”