Love? Maybe.

by Heather Hepler

  “You want me to come back after eleven?” a voice asks. It’s not my mother and Jan. It’s Charlie. I pull open the door and let him in. I walk back over to the couch, muttering under my breath, something about Grand Central Station. Charlie walks in and closes the door behind me. He has a plastic bag in his hands, which he puts on the table beside my stack of makeup work.

  “Claire and Jillian dropped them off,” I say, nodding toward the books.

  “I’m sure they told you,” he says. I squint at him. “About Ben Donovan,” he prompts.

  “You mean about how you are now the guy who picked a fight with Ben Donovan?” I laugh.

  “Not really my finest hour,” he says, shaking his head.

  “You realize you did it for no reason,” I say. I tell him about talking to my dad and explain that I was crying because of that.

  “That information would have been useful before I shoved him in the pool.” I smirk at him. “I got removed from the swim meet.”

  “Your coach kicked you off the team?” I ask.

  Charlie shrugs. “It won’t last. Coach likes to win too much to keep me off the roster for long. Plus even though he would never admit it, I don’t think he was really upset that I took Donovan down. He just told me to do it in the water next time.” I laugh, but then wince. My head is pounding.

  “What’s in the bag?” I ask. He picks it up and starts emptying the contents. He sets a bottle of ginger ale on the table. Then he pulls out a DVD and a pint of ice cream. I smile at the various things he’s brought.

  “What ?” Charlie asks.

  “I told Jillian I was going to spend Valentine’s Day on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a monster movie.” For some reason that conversation feels like it was ten years ago. “But I don’t really feel like ice cream right now,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

  Charlie smirks. “Don’t be. More for me,” he says. “Anyway, it’s not Valentine’s Day yet. Not until tomorrow.” He gets up and flips on the television and puts the DVD in the player. Then he goes to the kitchen and comes back with a spoon. He sits down beside me on the couch and pulls my legs into his lap. He pops the top off the pint of ice cream and scoops out a big spoonful. “You sure?” he asks me.

  I wave my hand and close my eyes. “I’m sure,” I say. “I don’t think you want me puking all over you.”

  He smiles. “I appreciate that.” He pushes the button on the remote and the movie starts. Plan 9 From Outer Space. I smile at him. “See? I do know you.”

  “You do,” I say. He takes another bite of ice cream. We watch the movie for several minutes then I close my eyes.

  “I didn’t get to tell you, but you looked really pretty the other night.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “Now I just look pretty awful.”

  “No,” says Charlie. “You don’t.” I open my eyes and look at him. He’s just watching the movie and eating ice cream, but his cheeks are pink. I smile and close my eyes. I’m not sure whether it’s just the fever or something else, but I suddenly feel warm all over. I peek at Charlie again and I can sort of see what Jillian was talking about when she went on about how crush-worthy he is. But from where I’m lying on the couch, it’s not so much his hair or how tall he is or how green his eyes are, it’s more that he brought me ice cream and a space movie and is spending his Friday night hanging out with me on the couch when I’m sick instead of going out. He looks over at me and suddenly it hits me. Charlie. Of course. It wasn’t Ben or Jillian leaving gifts in my locker. It was Charlie.

  “What are you smiling about?” he asks. It’s my turn to blush.

  “Nothing,” I say. Charlie is my secret Valentine? I smile into my pillow. Maybe Piper Paisley isn’t so cynical after all. I guess I fall asleep because the next thing I know it’s dark and Charlie’s gone and my mom’s trying to get me to go upstairs to bed.

  “Did you have fun?” I ask as she leads me upstairs.

  “I did,” she says. “Jan’s a very nice man.”

  “He is,” I say, climbing into my bed. She pulls the covers up over me. She strokes my hair and I start drifting off.

  “He really cares about you,” she says.

  “Who? Jan? Yeah, I know.”

  “Well, I wasn’t talking about him, but yes, Jan cares about you a lot. I was actually talking about Charlie.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “He does.” My mother keeps stroking my hair and humming. Whether she’s humming because she’s happy or to help me fall asleep, I don’t know, but it does the trick.

  The next thing I know it’s morning and I don’t feel like I’m going to die. I lie in bed for a long time, just thinking, but then I get up and head downstairs. There’s a note from Mom to call her at the shop and there are seven messages on my phone. Two from Jan, one from Beau, one from Jillian, one from Claire, one from Jeremy, and one from Charlie. They all say basically the same thing. They all want to know if I’m feeling better and to wish me a happy birthday. And even though I still feel weak and headachy and generally nasty, I am feeling better and the odd thing is it’s a happy birthday. At least the best one I can remember in a long time.

  chapter twenty

  I leave the overhead lights off and work by the glow of the pink and red strands of Christmas lights that are still hung in the windows. I offered to come in and take down all the Valentine’s Day decorations to make room for the huge chocolate bunnies and the giant sugar eggs that Jan has been working on for the last month. He’s always months ahead of the calendar, carving marzipan pumpkins in August and twisting candy canes while everyone else is dressing up their houses with ghosts and spiderwebs. I stack the remaining boxes of Consternation Hearts together and put them into one of the empty bins. I hold one up and look at it. I feel a little sad. I’m pretty sure this will be the last box. Somehow they just don’t seem that funny anymore.

  Jack answered the phone when I called after breakfast. I basically told him the same thing I told Beau when I returned his call. I want to spend time with him—get to know him—but I want to take it slowly. This hopeful thing is going to take a little getting used to. His voice was happy on the phone, which made me smile. He suggested we take a cooking class together at We’re Cookin’. It should be fun. At least it will be interesting.

  I wrap the leftover lollipops in plastic and place them into the box. I do the same with the gummy hearts and the giant red and white snakes. (I still stand by my assertion that just because they’re red and white doesn’t make huge gummy boa constrictors romantic.) Some of the candy, Jan will melt down for other items, but most of it, he’ll just put at the back on the clearance table.

  It took some convincing to get Mom and Jan to let me come in here, but after spending nearly my whole birthday on the couch, I told them I just needed to get out and move around a little. Mom said they’d be back in an hour to get me. No arguments. On the way here, they told me “the big plan.” Jan is still going to knock down the wall between his shop and the empty space next door, but he’s not going to take it over. My mother is. She’s going to move Lilly’s Flowers into that space.

  “It’s perfect,” Jan said. “Flowers and candy. What could be better together?” I was so thankful that neither of them said that the two of them would be better together, but even still I saw Jan squeeze Mom’s hand. I groaned in the backseat, making both of them laugh. It’s going to take some getting used to, having Jan in my life as more than my boss, but already I can see hints of how good it’s going to be. He knows more about Star Wars than Dom and he’s already planned a tea party with Lucy. But the best thing is seeing my mom so happy.

  I unhook cupid from the ceiling. It’ll be another year before we see his pink cheeks and wings. Even though he’s supposed to be smiling angelically, I can’t help but think there’s a little ironic glint shining out from his eyes. I give him a poke before I wrap him in tissue paper. Then I put him in one of the long-term storage boxes that Jan will keep way in the back of the storeroom.

  My c
ell phone chirps and I pull it out. A text from Claire.

  Miss u.

  Alex says hi.

  Talk l8r?

  Luv, C.

  I smile and slide the phone back in my pocket. It’s the third time she’s texted me from her date. She tried to drag me to dinner with her and Alex, but other than having my fingernails pulled out with pliers one by one, I can’t really imagine a more horrible night. Jillian is surprisingly silent, which means her evening with Jeremy must be going well. They stopped by my house earlier and I had to laugh. I didn’t think anyone would ever be strong enough to overcome Jillian’s personality, but Jeremy can put her in her place. And every time he did it, I saw them smiling at one another.

  I take down the lights last, leaving them plugged in. I coil them on the floor into big pink and red O’s. The only person I haven’t spoken with is Charlie. I wanted to call him all afternoon, but I didn’t want to intrude on his time with his dad. When I bend to unplug the lights, there’s a knock at the door. With the lights in my eyes and the darkness outside, I can’t see who’s there. “We’re closed!” I yell, but the knocking continues. I think of Jan’s admonishment to not even think of opening the door and wonder if it’s him, trying to trick me. I walk over to the door and look out the window. I still can’t see very well, but I’d know that silhouette anywhere.

  I unlock the door and pull it open. “Hey,” Charlie says.

  “Hey,” I say, suddenly shy in front of him.

  “Can I come in?” I step back and let him in, locking the door behind him. “I thought I might find you hiding out here.”

  “I’m not hiding,” I say.

  “Pipe, you’re in a closed store in the dark.”

  “It’s not totally dark,” I say, pointing to the coiled pink and red lights still blinking on the floor.

  “I don’t blame you. You’re famous now.” I shrug, thinking I could go for a little less notoriety. “They’ll be talking about you for years,” he says. “You dumped Ben Donovan.”

  “Well, you pushed Ben Donovan into the pool,” I say. He just smiles at me.

  “How’s your dad?” I ask finally.

  Charlie shrugs. “He seemed good when I left. Better. He said he thought it might be good if he talked to someone.”

  “That sounds promising,” I say.

  He nods his head. “I think talking to Jan really helped.”

  “Jan’s pretty wise,” I say.

  “It’s just nice not to be alone in it. Nice to have people help us with everything.”

  I tilt my head, watching him. “So you’re okay?”

  “I’m good,” he says. “I’m hopeful.”

  “Hopeful is good,” I say.

  Charlie laughs. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear Piper Paisley say those words,” he says.

  I nudge one of his feet with mine. “Quiet,” I say. “I’ve decided that I’ve had enough of cynical.” We don’t say anything for a few moments. “Want to help me pack up Valentine’s Day?” I ask finally. We both look over at the last few hearts hanging limply from the wall and the empty wires poking down from the ceiling.

  “Is it over already?” Charlie asks.

  I look at my watch. “Not quite yet,” I say.

  “Well, then there’s still time,” Charlie says.

  “Time for what?”

  “Close your eyes,” he says. “And put out your hand.” I do. Then I hear rustling as he pulls something out of his jacket pocket. He places something in my hand. “You can look.” I open my eyes. It’s a very familiar brown bag.

  “It was you,” I say. He smiles.

  “Did you know it was me?” he asks.

  “Not at first,” I say. “I figured it out last night when we were watching the movie.”

  “You mean when I was watching the movie,” Charlie says. “You were zonked out, snoring.”

  I swat his arm with my free hand. “I was sick,” I say. He just smiles at me.

  He nods at the bag in my hand. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

  I tilt the bag and peek into it and immediately start laughing. “Candy?” I ask. I pull the box out of the bag and open it. Inside, nestled in a puff of tissue paper is a big red candy heart ring. “It’s a heart,” I say.

  “Well, I know you collect them,” Charlie says, teasing me.

  I put the ring on my finger and hold it up. The facets catch the twinkling lights, making it sparkle like it’s a real gem. “It’s beautiful,” I say, smiling. Maybe hearts aren’t so awful after all.

  Charlie shrugs, but I can tell he’s pleased I like it.

  I tilt my head and look at him. “Why did you have Jeremy leave gifts in my locker?”

  “He had your combination.”

  “I mean. Why did you do it?”

  “I just remember how excited you used to be about your birthday and about Valentine’s Day and I just wanted you to have something to look forward to.” He won’t meet my eyes, suddenly shy.

  He walks over to the jukebox and bends to plug the cord into the wall socket. He punches a button and soon the store is filled with Sinatra. Charlie walks back over to me and holds out his hand.

  “Shall we? I mean, you already know that I am an awesome dancer.”

  I laugh and take his hand.

  “So what’s next?” I ask.

  “How about dinner?” he says, making me laugh. Still Charlie. Always thinking with his stomach.

  “I mean—”

  He pulls back and looks at me. “I know what you mean,” he says. “But it’s just us. Now maybe we’ll just be more us.”

  “More us,” I say, trying it out.

  “You know, more me coming to your house and more you making me cookies and more you coming to cheer me on in my swim meets and more you helping me with my chemistry homework.”

  “Sounds awesome,” I say, my voice heavy with sarcasm.

  Charlie laughs. “I know you love planning things, but I don’t think you can plan this.” He puts his arms around me. “I like you—”

  “I know that,” I say.

  He pulls away from me so he I can see his face. “Piper, you are my best friend in the whole world.” He smirks. “I think that shirt pretty much sums up how I feel about you.” I glance down, reading upside down. I smile. Charlie hearts me.

  We dance slowly as the lights twinkle and the music plays. When the song is over, we just stand together. I lean my cheek against his chest. “I’m still scared,” I say. Charlie hugs me tighter. “What if you leave?” I whisper.

  “What if I don’t?” he asks. I look up at him smiling down at me. He pulls me to him again and we start dancing. There’s no music, but it doesn’t matter. I find myself humming and this time Charlie doesn’t tell me to hush.

  chapter twenty-one

  It’s Jillian’s idea for all of us to have dinner together. Her vision was a triple date at Wink or some other fancy restaurant, but I convinced her that maybe a picnic might be more fun. We decided to have the least romantic, least Valentine’s Day food possible. Anything red or pink or heart-shaped we ruled off-limits.

  Jillian, Claire, and I agree to take care of the food and we assign the guys to take care of the entertainment. Too bad their idea of entertainment is throwing Frisbees for Charlie’s dog to fetch. Of course none of us took into account that it was still technically winter. I stamp my feet to try to bring some circulation back into them. My boots leave imprints in the snow. “I still can’t believe it actually snowed.” I say.

  Jillian rolls her eyes. “This isn’t exactly snow.” She kicks at the ground, exposing the yellow grass beneath.

  It’s Claire’s turn to roll her eyes. “If we have to listen to your stories of blizzards and ice storms in New York one more time—”

  “Sorry,” Jillian says. She kicks at the snow again. “Even though it’s about the wimpiest snowstorm I’ve ever seen, it’s still pretty cool.” We decided against canceling the picnic, figuring it sort of fit into the whole misfit Val
entine’s theme we had going. “Our snowman is pretty sad though.” The three of us laugh at the knee-high snowman, his head threatening to roll off his shoulders at any minute. A snowball whizzes past us, hitting the tree just behind Claire.

  “Oh it’s on,” Jillian says. She bends and packs a snowball in her gloved hands and sends it flying back toward Jeremy. Her aim is better than his. The snowball hits his shoulder before breaking apart. I figure it’s enough to start Snowball War II, but Jeremy just grins at her.

  I sit on the edge of the picnic table bench, trying to keep as little of me in contact with the cold metal as I can. I watch as Charlie launches another Frisbee in the air and Duncan, the world’s ugliest and awesomest dog, tears after it. “Do you know what’s funny?” I ask.