by Tari Faris
The dimple appeared again as she tried to hold back a smile. She reached into her purse, pulled out the baggie of change, and held it out. “Deal.” She patted the bike seat and glanced up at him again, now standing just a foot away. “Thank you.”
Why had he bought the bike? There was only one answer that fit. It was the same answer as why he’d looked to see if there was a Carnegie library in Grand Haven. What was he going to do now?
Olivia slouched in her chair. Talk about bound up in knots. Not only had she yet to hear from the editor as to whether her dating article was acceptable or not, she was also counting down the minutes until Nate would show up at her door. Why had she accepted his offer to take her back to get her car? She should have waited until Libby was free. Or even her brother. Anyone but Nate.
She didn’t know if she could handle being that close to him again after last night. She closed her eyes against the memory. She was in worse shape than ever.
A ding filled the air and Olivia grabbed her phone. She pushed her glasses up her nose, trying to see clearer. These glasses were the worst with their heavy lenses. But with her others broken and still no contacts, she’d been reduced to her pair from her eighth grade year.
Olivia tapped the new email from Mr. Lang.
To: Olivia Mathews
From: Frank Lang
RE: Dating Article
I like it. It will run on the second page next Friday.
Next assignment: Fishing. Due 10/7.
Her stomach churned. On the positive side, this meant her articles were only a week apart instead of two weeks. And more print time meant one step closer to a real journalism job. But if there was anything that filled her with more dread than dating, it was fishing.
Maybe he’d be open to something else. She hit reply.
To: Frank Lang
From: Olivia Mathews
RE: Fishing Assignment
I have never been fishing.
The reply came almost immediately.
To: Olivia Mathews
From: Frank Lang
RE: Fishing Assignment
Perfect. Use that angle.
She reread the email. Angle? She hated lakes. Ponds. Pretty much any deep, dark water with lurking, slimy monsters. A shiver ran up her spine at the idea of a research trip—with fish. The fear of ending up in the water with those fish kept her to pools. Only pools. Well, that, and the fact that she could only dog-paddle. Not a save-yourself-from-the-center-of-the-lake type of stroke. But his email didn’t leave much room for discussion.
A knock rattled the front door and Olivia shut her laptop, grabbed her purse, and pulled open the door. “Hi, Nate.”
He wore a maroon sweater and dark jeans low on his hips. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he tilted his head, emphasizing his freshly shaven jaw. “What’s wrong?”
She paused putting on her coat. “You can tell something is wrong with ‘Hi, Nate’?”
He shrugged and walked toward the church van, leaving a hint of musky aftershave in his wake. “You’re pretty easy to read.”
Olivia pulled the door shut and hurried past him toward the passenger door. “I heard from my editor about the article.”
“He didn’t like it?” Nate opened his door and slid into the driver’s seat.
“He loved it.” She hopped in and slammed her door. “But the new assignment he wants me to do is on the great Michigan recreation of fishing, from the perspective of someone who has never been before.”
“That should be easy.” Nate set the engine to life and backed out of the driveway.
Easy? Was he kidding? Then again, he didn’t know about her phobia. Because who was afraid of fish? And what grown adult in Michigan couldn’t swim to save her life? Oh, right—that would be her. She leaned forward and pressed the third preset button, sending the oldies station blaring through the air. She adjusted the volume. “I’ve never been in a boat, let alone fished. Everly Brothers.”
Nate conceded her answer, then leaned forward and switched to a country station. It was a game they’d started playing on their drive to the shelter. Crazy thing is, she hadn’t even thought about it. She’d somehow dropped into their routine and so had he.
“Dustin Lynch.” He tapped another button, this time classic rock, but an ad was running. “How could you have never been on a boat in Michigan? Water recreation is our great state’s favorite pastime.”
“Avoiding water recreation has always been my favorite pastime.” She flipped it back to oldies. “The Monkees. How do you think I became good at basketball? Telling people you need to work on your jump shot gets you out of all sorts of things. How am I going to do this article? I don’t even have a boat.”
The next hour evolved from naming the band to music trivia to telling stories from their childhoods, like the time Nate left frogs in Austin’s underwear drawer. By the time they reached Grand Rapids, Olivia was laughing so hard her sides hurt. She leaned against the door and took in the passing foliage that blurred into a mix of greens with the occasional red or orange patch. Fall was the best time of year. But a cold time of year to fish.
A shiver traveled over her. “Ted has a boat. Maybe I’ll ask him if—”
“I can take you.”
“What?”
His clean shave highlighted his tense jaw. “I have a fishing boat I bought last summer. I’ll take you.”
He flipped the radio back to the classic rock station, but she didn’t know the song.
“You have a boat? Funny, you didn’t mention that until I said Ted’s name. Besides, I don’t recall asking you.”
“Well, you’re not going out with Ted.” The song changed to a commercial and he turned it to an oldies station. The Beatles sang about yesterday. A no-brainer, but neither jumped on it. “It’ll have to be a week from Monday. Can you wait a week?”
Olivia’s mouth had fallen open and she snapped it shut. First he’d jumped in at the mention of Derek’s name. Now this? He couldn’t have it both ways. They were either together or not. “I can go out with Ted if I want.”
“Friends don’t let friends date guys like Ted.” He checked his mirrors and moved to the right lane.
“Who said date?”
“Trust me, Ted would find a way to make it a date. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” His words came out casual, but his concentration on the road seemed more than required to take the exit to I-96.
Olivia was done making it easy for him. “Maybe you should have told me that when I was doing the dating article. I could’ve gone out on a research date with him.”
His ears reddened as he merged into the traffic. The silence stretched.
Finally, he spoke up. “Why do you want to be a journalist?”
“What?” Her hands flew into the air. “Where did that come from?”
Nate shrugged and changed lanes. “You don’t have the cutthroat attitude of a journalist. How did you even decide on journalism anyway?”
“I wrote for my school newspaper and I was good at it. Why are we even talking about this? I don’t have to justify my life goals to you.”
“You’re good at a lot of things. Is journalism your passion?”
“My passion?” Ugh. Where was another Starbucks cup when she needed one? Not only was he refusing to answer her question, but he was dropping into school counselor mode. He wasn’t her counselor.
“When you do children’s hour at church, you light up.” He flipped on his turn signal and took the Leonard Street exit. “You don’t seem to even enjoy these articles. Are you following your passion or just what you’re good at?”
She pulled out her phone and typed a text to Ted.
Hey Ted, I need to go fishing to research an article. Any chance you can take me out this week?
She hit Send and drew a deep breath. No matter how much she’d rather go with Nate, she had to separate herself before she went crazy.
She glared at him across the van. “You aren’t one to offer advice on follo
wing your heart.”
“What are you talking about? God called me to be a pastor. I am a pastor. I’m following the passion God gave me.”
“What about in relationships?” She leaned a little closer. “Are you following those passions?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed before he leaned toward the door. “Olivia, I know—”
“No, you don’t know, and that’s the thing.” The chime of her phone stole her attention.
Ted
If you want a date with me, babe, all you have to do is ask.
Exhibit A of why Nate didn’t care for him. The guy was all ego and all talk. But she’d known him since they were kids, and aside from the tiresome pickup lines, he was harmless.
Haha. I need to research for an article on fishing.
Fine, I’m up for “fishing.” Thursday? I have that day off.
Oh brother. She’d ignore that one. She pulled up the app with her diner schedule. Thursday was empty.
Great—pick me up at 10 a.m.
See you then.
It was done and his final reply wasn’t suggestive. Progress.
Nate turned into the mall parking lot. “Is your car where I picked you up at the theater?”
“No, it’s by the food court.”
Nate pulled the van to a stop two spots from her car.
She yanked open the door and slid out before he could speak. “Thanks for the ride. And don’t worry about fishing. Ted’s available and we already set a date and time.”
Nate’s lips thinned into a line, but she slammed the door before he could reply. She wasn’t trying to make him mad. But if he didn’t want her, it was time to set some of her own boundaries.
ten
Why did people have such a hard time being honest? Libby peeled the tape off another box of books and set it aside. She couldn’t wait until the roof was done so she could start shelving these. She would ask Austin when that might be, but he wasn’t answering her calls. She’d even stopped him a few times in the square, but he only gave her one-word answers to every question. He’d bought her a bike, and now the guy didn’t seem to know how to act around her. Maybe he regretted it. But it was a bicycle, not a ring. She had no expectations.
“Why are men so difficult?” Libby shot the question at Danielle, who reclined against one wall, reading.
She put her finger in the book to hold her place and stretched. “I have no idea, but if you find out please let me know.”
“Is there a man in your life making it difficult?” Libby dropped into a folding chair and reached for her water bottle.
Danielle laid her book aside and pulled her knees up to her chest. “I have about ten men in my life that make it difficult.”
“Ten?” Libby let out a loud laugh.
“Not romantically. That would be zero. But that’s probably because of the ten. A dad who doesn’t think a girl is as capable of running a business as his strapping, clueless boys. Four brothers who readily forget that I’m not another brother. And the five guys at the shop who see me as just one of the boys.” Danielle pulled her ponytail holder out of her hair and combed it through with her fingers.
“You work at a shop?” Libby downed the rest of the water.
“My dad owns Dan’s Garage.” With her hair down around her face, it softened her features and made her brown eyes look huge.
“Do you like working in the shop?”
“Love it.” Danielle stretched out her long legs and crossed them at her ankles. “There’s something about rebuilding an engine and listening to it rev up for the first time.”
“I could see how that would be satisfying.”
“I want to take over the business, but my dad is still holding out for one of my thickheaded brothers to step up. Them being boys and all.” She picked at the weathered floorboard beside her. “I love my dad, but he’s stuck in about 1950. He didn’t even want me working in the shop, but when he realized I could rebuild a carburetor in seventh grade, he gave in.”
Libby stood and grabbed the broom. “So how do the guys you work with make your life difficult?”
Danielle held up the book. “If any of them caught me reading this, they’d never let me live it down. Not to mention they’d start doubting my abilities in the shop. It’s better when they forget I’m a girl.”
Libby set to sweeping the dust and debris left behind by the electrician and drywall guy. “Is that why you dress in a way that hides your shape?”
Danielle looked down at her shapeless jeans and baggy T-shirt. “I guess. That and a lack of knowledge. My mom died when I was about five, and I learned the easiest way to get along in my house was to blend in with the boys.”
“And now?”
“And now the only guy I have any interest in doesn’t even realize I’m a girl.” Danielle shrugged and leaned back against the wall.
“We could do a makeover.” Libby paused her sweeping. “Olivia would love it.”
Danielle held up her hands like a shield as a look of horror crossed her face. “No thanks.”
A knock at the door filled the room just before a guy with dark hair that curled out from underneath a red baseball cap poked his head in. He looked about Danielle’s age. If Libby remembered right, he was one of Olivia’s brothers.
Danielle shoved the book behind a box and jumped to her feet, then grabbed her ponytail holder and secured her hair back. “Gideon. What are you doing here?”
“There you are, Dan.” He stepped in the rest of the way. His red-and-blue flannel shirt untucked from his jeans and a worn backpack slung over his shoulder added to his country-boy look. All he needed was a guitar and an old pickup truck. “A bunch of the guys were going to grab pizza after work. Thought you might want to join us. Someone said they saw you walk in here, but I didn’t believe them. What are you doing?”
Danielle grabbed her bag. “Just helping Libby, but I can go.”
Gideon nodded at Danielle. His pale blue eyes warmed as he extended his hand and offered Libby a boy-next-door, chocolate-melting smile. “Hi. I’m Gideon Mathews.”
“Libby. I’m your sister’s roommate.” She shook his hand and then glanced at Danielle.
Danielle grabbed the book from behind the box, tucked it deep into her bag, then smoothed back her ponytail.
“Right. You’re the librarian that we moved the books for. Nice to finally meet you.”
“Yes. And thank you for that, by the way.” If Libby was a betting woman, she’d put money on Gideon being the one Danielle didn’t want seeing her as one of the guys.
He took a step closer to Danielle. “Did you need more help? I can help Danielle.”
Danielle’s eyes widened.
“No, she’s got it. We work well together. It’s a girl thing.”
He raised one eyebrow at Danielle, then shrugged. “Okay. Let me know if you do need any more help.” He offered a wave before heading out the door with Danielle not far behind.
Libby’s stomach growled just as a text pinged her phone. She dug in her bag and pulled it out.
Olivia
Donny’s for dinner in 10?
Yes. Starving.
Libby pocketed her phone and locked the door behind her. She walked through the grass and crossed at the corner. Austin exited the bank just as she passed. She paused to keep from running into him. “Oh. Hi.”
He stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Hi.” He opened his mouth to say something more, then shut it and pointed toward the square. “I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see you around.”
She’d never understand that man.
The dinnertime rush was in full swing at Donny’s. Libby wedged her way through a few people waiting for a booth and claimed the first empty bar stool she came to. She dropped her purse on the next stool to save it for Olivia.
“Libby. How are you?” Janie appeared in front of her, her brown-black hair tied back in a bun and a towel slung over her shoulder. “The library is looking good.”
She’d met Janie a few days ago when she stopped to visit with Olivia. She couldn’t get over how different they looked. But evidently Janie took after their mother’s Italian heritage and Olivia had all the Scandinavian side of the family.
“The library is a lot of work, but it’s coming along. I’ll take a coffee and wait to order until Olivia gets here. She should be here soon.” Libby pulled two packets of sugar and a packet of creamer from the basket nearby. “I just met your brother.”
“Gideon or Caleb?” Janie pulled a mug down and filled it with black goodness.
“Gideon.” Libby tore the top off one sugar packet and dumped it in. “Does he date a lot?”
“Not much. But he’s adorable, isn’t he? I think half the girls in town would date him if he gave them a chance.”
“Do you know what type of girl he likes?” Libby added another sugar and opened the creamer. On her third circle with her spoon, she lifted her head and found Janie staring at her. “Oh, no. Not for me. I mean, he has to be almost ten years younger than me.”
Janie offered a little laugh. “Who are you thinking?”
Libby tapped her spoon on the side of the cup, then set it on the napkin. “I really can’t say.”
Janie leaned forward. “I’ve always thought he should date Danielle Fair.”
Libby paused with the mug halfway to her mouth. “Right?”
“Olivia and I have been saying that for the last year. They’re best friends, you know. But Gideon assures us that he just doesn’t see Dan that way, and he says she has no interest in him.”
“I can almost guarantee one of those is wrong.” Libby lifted her eyebrows as she took a sip of coffee.
“What do you know?” Janie’s eyes widened as she leaned closer.
“I don’t know anything, but I think Danielle has a big crush on him. Only she doesn’t know how to get him to wake up and see her not as one of the guys.”
The bell rang, announcing someone was ready to pay their bill. Janie glanced over her shoulder as she headed that way. “That we can work with.”
The bar stool next to Libby shifted. “You’re late.” She grabbed a napkin and wiped at a ring that had formed under her mug.