One Look: A grumpy, single dad small town romance(10)

Live in the nudist commune with my mother and Larry? Hard pass.

I resorted to the story I told myself when doubt inevitably creeped in. “These immersion acting jobs are really good for me. I’m honing my improv skills, and it looks fantastic on a résumé, which I can’t say of all the temp jobs I’ve been doing. Come fall, I’ll go back to my rounds on the off-Broadway audition circuit again. This is only temporary. An adventure.”

From the small bench on the sidewalk I had taken over, I scanned the long strip of downtown Outtatowner. The tourist season was picking up, and several storefronts had Now Hiring Seasonal Help or something like it posted on the front windows. Even the Sugar Bowl had a sign looking for a weekend barista.

The happy faces of tourists meandered past me.

I supposed it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to hunker down in a cozy little town until the next job popped up. Granted, I would have to keep up the facade of Bowlegs’s mysterious funeral attendee, but with so few people in attendance, that probably wouldn’t be all that hard.

“Okay, Aubergine. I should get my day started and, you know, figure out the rest of my life. Love you.”

“Many blessings,” she replied, and I hung up with a sigh and a chuckle.

I closed my eyes, tipped my face to the sky, and let the warm sun soak into me. “Okay, Goddess,” I whispered. “If I am supposed to stay here, then give me a sign.”

I held on to my thought, willing some of my mother’s faith in Goddess to spread to me. I took a few deep breaths, cracked one eye open, then the other. The town continued to bustle around me.

Absolutely nothing had changed.

I sighed and stood. With determined steps toward my car, I flipped the local newspaper into the trash. Something would come up; it always did. For now I could head up the coast to find a new beachy town before making my way back to the hustle of the city.

My white Converse high-tops walked a determined line up the sidewalk and around the crowds of shoppers and families heading toward the beach.

I tried to ignore the tug, something deep inside me telling me driving away so soon might be a mistake.

“Yoo-hoo!”

I turned my head, scanning the crowd to follow the voice.

“Hello, dear!”

My heart swelled at the sight of the kind, elderly woman’s warm smile, and I felt myself grinning at Tootie waving wildly at me from across the street.

I lifted my hand and waved back, then checked the roadway before crossing.

“What were you doing on that side of the street?” Tootie smiled but held me in place with her stare.

I looked around. In reality I was wandering around aimlessly. “Um, I . . .”

Tootie leaned closer and pulled me in by the elbow. “That’s the Kings’ side.” She waved a hand between us. “No matter. I suppose Bug and I did come to some sort of agreement over you.”

Still unsure what to say, my brows furrowed, and I offered her a confused sort of smile.

Tootie winked. “You’re a Sullivan. I just know it.”

Warmth spread through me, and I fought the urge to let her nephew’s ruggedly handsome face pop into my mind.

“Are you leaving so soon?” Tootie looped her arm in mine, and we walked down the sidewalk.

“I think so. I’m lining up my next job and a place to stay.” I leaned down to whisper. “And we can’t let our little secret get out.”

Tootie’s laughter was infectious. “Nonsense! Let them wonder. This town needs a little fun. A job and a place to stay?” Tootie patted my hand and squeezed. The motherly gesture was unfamiliar and sweet. I hugged her closer. “You let me take care of that.”

Oh yeah. This is definitely my sign.





5





LARK





When Tootie set her mind to something, she was a powerhouse. Within three hours, I was set up with a place to stay and several prospects for seasonal summer work. I stepped over the threshold and looked over my new temporary home. The apartment was small, simply arranged with a living space and kitchen in the middle. It had two tiny bedrooms and one bathroom. The apartment itself was on top of a large barn that was more like a giant storage shed, and the property itself was massive.

It shared a large parcel with an old farmhouse that looked to be well maintained, but empty. The apartment was perfect.

Definitely better than some unknown motel or sleeping in my car.

From the back bedroom window, I could look out over rows and rows of blueberry bushes, and in the distance, just over the trees, I could barely make out the coastline.

She tried to fuss, but I assured Tootie that it was more than adequate, and part of the fun would be opening it up to let the breeze in while I got settled. I glanced at the list of phone numbers that she’d handwritten. I had been assured that all I had to do was mention her name and a job would be mine.

Just like that. That’s how small towns work, she assured me.

It was up to me to decide whether I wanted to brew coffee or wait tables or sell tchotchkes to tourists.

After opening all the windows to let in a cross breeze, I rifled through my duffel bag and pulled out a pair of gym shoes. Across the expansive yard, at the edge where the blueberry field met a tree line, was a walking path.

Filled with a sense of adventure, I tossed my hair in a ponytail and bounded down the stairs and across the yard toward the path. When I reached the trailhead, my toe brushed across the limestone. A sign indicated the path was part of a thirty-four-mile former railway that had been converted to a path for walkers, bikers, and horses. While thirty-four miles was definitely out of the question, an afternoon exploring and clearing my head sounded perfect.