Page 7 of Seeking Her Studs

A woman I don’t recognize tips her head in greeting as she swerves on the sidewalk to avoid my luggage.

Usually, when I get to town, I go straight to Gram’s. But that’s not an option anymore. So I make a silent prayer that things truly haven’t changed around here and head to Mae’s Diner.

As soon as I pass through the doors, it feels like every eye in the place turns to me. Some of those stares turn into polite smiles, while others show clear dismay and a few cold shoulders. It’s not even close to the warm welcome I usually get here. In fact, for a town that will schedule homemade food deliveries to your house at the slightest sign of a cold, this reception feels outright frosty.

I know I’ve burned a few bridges, but nothing that I thought the entire town knew about.

I try not to let the hurt show on my face as I seat myself in the closest empty booth. The light blue fake leather releases a puff of air as I sit down.

“Well, look who the cat dragged in,” a cheerful voice I’ve known my whole life fills me with ease. I slide right back out of the seat and take my cousin Lacey into a tight grip.

“I was hoping you would be here,” I say as I back away and hold her shoulders in front of me to get a good look at her. The same cheerful freckled face I’ve known all my life stares back at me, except now her hair is back to its natural deep red color after her brief stint as a blonde. Our grandma used to say I had a strawberry in me, but Lacey had the whole cake. My hair has a bit of red in its brown, while Lacey’s red can be spotted from a mile away.

“Still here.” She smiles. “And I hear a congratulation is in order. Scoot your pretty butt back in that seat. I’m taking a quick break so I can hear all about that fancy new fiancé of yours.” She says as she unties the yellow and white pinstripe apron from around her waist and sits down across from me.

Right. My fiancé.

Guilt churns in my stomach. I didn’t even think about how Lacey must have felt reading about my fake engagement instead of hearing it from me.

“Oh, we can talk about all that later.” I smile weakly. I’m sure it will only be a matter of days until I learn what clever way Mika’s agent will choose to spin the story.

Lacey glances down at my ring finger, which is glaringly bare. She cocks an eyebrow at me.

“Long story,” I say as I look around to see who might be listening in on us. An older couple that I vaguely recognize is staring at me with openly hostile expressions on their faces.

“Uh, hey Lace?” I ask her as I continue to scan the room. “Is it my imagination, or are people not so happy to see me?”

“Oh,” she waves a dismissive hand at them. “Don’t worry about them. They’re all just mad you haven’t been back to visit us. And okay, maybe they’re still hung up on your Drew Barrymore Show interview.”

I practically get whiplash from her answer. Of all the reasons I have for people to be mad at me, that’s the last thing I expected. I rack my brain to pinpoint what she could be referring to.

“I last went on her show like two years ago?” I say, confusion thick in my voice.

She nods and takes a deep breath. “Yeah, but you know how people get here. They don’t forget.”

I wrack my brain to think about what I possibly could have said. There was no crisis meeting with Patricia afterward, which happens after I say something wrong. So it couldn’t have been that bad?

“I’ll be honest, Lace. I have no idea what you’re even talking about.” I scan over some of the faces still looking at me.

“You said,” she starts with a hushed tone. “That it’s ‘nice to visit such a cute little town every once in a while.’”

“Okay, and then what?” I ask, waiting for the drop.

“A cute little town.” Lacey looks at me expectantly.

I tap my foot in anticipation, anxious over what I might have said next.

“A cute little town.” She says again, this time more slowly. “You don’t think that’s a bit demeaning? I mean, our town is a bit more than that. And then you just stop visiting altogether.”

“Lacey, that’s-” I start to object, but I stop myself. I should try to think about it from her perspective before I open my big mouth again. I’ve been media-trained well enough to know that you don’t ever say the first thing that comes to your head.

“Well, I’ll reflect on that a bit,” I say with a weak smile. “When you put it like that, I can understand how it might be offensive.”

Lacey places her hand on mine. “You’ve been away for a while. I get that it might all seem strange to you. Just like I’m sure I wouldn’t be able to find a bite to eat in Los Angeles, that wouldn’t make me want to toss it right back up.”

She slips out of the booth and wraps her apron around her waist again. “Well, that’s about all I’ve got until my shift is over. Hey, where are you staying, by the way?”

“About that…” I start. “Do you happen to know where the Airsteam camper is that Gram left for me?” I know this is something I would know if I had been around, but I hope she won’t remind me of that.

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