Page 79 of Novel Problems

“Why don’t you two go out with Max, and I’ll take care of the cake?” Mom asked, clearly trying to be helpful. My heart sank.

I racked my brain for a reason why that would be a terrible idea.

Thankfully, Hannah stepped in. “That’s okay. I’d love to do it with you, Helen, if you don’t mind.” She smiled shyly at Mom.

“Excellent! Well, we’ll be off. See you in a bit!” I grabbed Max’s leash and my keys off the hall table and headed downstairs before Mom had a chance to respond.

I spent the next hour walking Max down Main Street, along the river, and then up through a warren of smaller residential streets, extending our route much longer than usual. While I’d felt confident in my plan when I’d left, as we walked, I couldn’t help wondering if it could backfire. I knew how much Mom cared about me. Was there any chance she might voice her concerns directly to Hannah with the misguided view that she was protecting me? I picked up my pace at the thought.

“Let’s head home, little fella,” I said to Max, who pricked up his ears, clearly tired of our marathon trundle.

As we walked up the stairs to my apartment, I heard a clatter of metal and some raised voices.Shit, shit, shit!Mypulse pounded in my ears. Surely it hadn’t gone so badly it’d devolved into a shouting and pan-throwing match?

I ran up the rest of the stairs, sweating more than I had all through my walk.

My hands shook as I opened the apartment door and then raced to the kitchen.

I paused at the kitchen entrance and let out a deep breath. Mom and Hannah were standing side by side at the sink, Hannah washing the dishes and Mom drying them as they chatted. Two of my favorite people in the world seemed to be getting along just fine. But the noises I’d heard on the stairs had been concerning.

“Is everything okay in here? I heard some loud noises as I was coming in.”

“Everything is excellent.” Mom turned, smiling at me. “The cake is in the oven, we’ve nearly finished washing up, and your lovely girlfriend was just telling me about your kayaking incident, which made me laugh so hard I dropped a pan on my foot. Good thing I was wearing my shoes, or it really would have hurt.”

I leaned back against the kitchen counter, warmth filling my chest. It seemed like my scheme to bring Mom and Hannah together hadn’t been a half-baked plan after all.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

HANNAH

As the local fire trucks drove down Main Street, lights flashing, George flipped the sign on Novel Gossip’s front door toClosedand grabbed my hand.

“It’s your first Fourth of July in Sapphire Springs. Let’s make it a memorable one!” she said with a grin as she tugged me to the edge of the sidewalk to watch the Fourth of July parade.

George had decided to close Novel Gossip early so we could enjoy the festivities. It was a shame George’s mom had left yesterday, as I was sure Helen would have loved the celebrations. George had been spot-on about her mom. While we didn’t have a lot in common, we’d still gotten along very well. And we did have one, very important, thing in common—George.

As the fire trucks drove out of view, fifteen bagpipe players and drummers marched by, cheered on by locals who lined the streets. Various community groups followed: the local Lions Club, the Scouts and the group that ran the community garden. A random teenager walked by with twoalpacas. Every so often, I’d recognize one of our regulars from the café and give them an encouraging yell.

George glanced at her watch. “I’d better go get Max ready for the pet parade. You’re more than welcome to stay and watch if you want.”

“Are you sure?” I was fairly confident George could manage Max and was excited to see who would appear next in the parade. Not only was I getting a kick out of seeing our regulars in a completely different context, learning more about them in the process (who would have thought that Mrs. Harding was a bagpipe player?) but I was also enjoying the real community feel of the festivities. The Thanksgiving and Pride parades I’d been to in New York had been massive, well-oiled, commercialized affairs full of floats promoting businesses and overwhelming crowds. You would never have seen two random alpacas or a minibus packed full of residents from the local retirement home waving American flags.

An excited sniffing at my knees ten minutes later caught my attention, and I looked down to see Max, his golden hair freshly brushed and shining in the sunlight, wearing a tiny red sequin hat on his head and a red-white-and-blue bandana around his neck. On his red harness, George had attached the white and blue cardboard stars we’d cut out on the floor of her living room last night.

“Aww, who’s a gorgeous boy.” I gave Max a pat, carefully not to damage his outfit. I’d become very attached to Max during the past few weeks. He was intelligent, gentle, and affectionate—not unlike his owner. Although, thankfully, his owner didn’t drool or snore as much. I smiled to myself. The termgolden retrieverwas often used by romance readers to describe love interests who were kind, loyal, loving, and reliable, which fit Georgeperfectly. It seemed appropriate that she had a golden retriever of her own. My smile widened as I realized another romance term for George’s personality was acinnamon roll—also perfect given George’s baking skills.I bet she makes a mean cinnamon roll.I looked over at George, my chest full of love. While I hadn’t told George yet how I felt, I planned to. I was just waiting for the right time.

“I also got something for you. To celebrate your first Fourth of July at Sapphire Springs,” George said, grinning.

It took me a moment to realize what George was handing me. It was a fanny pack, decorated in sequins depicting the American flag.

I burst into laughter. “Oh my god! I love it.”

There was something inside. I unzipped it to find a travel-sized bottle of sunscreen, lip balm and hand sanitizer.

“This is amazing, thank you,” I said, leaning into give George a kiss.

“Don’t feel you have to wear it. I just saw it when I was buying Max’s hat and couldn’t resist getting it for you.” George said, as I wrapped it around my waist and clipped it on.

“Nope, I love it,” I said, peering down to admire it. I pulled my phone out of the satchel I had been wearing and transferred it to my fanny pack. “I’ll drop my bag inside, since I’ve got this much more practical and very patriotic fanny pack to carry my belongings now.”

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