Page 12 of How to Write a Rom-Com

The only sign that sticks out is the one for Liz’s, which I now assume to be hunky Liam’s place. Hudson Hollow’s very own Jack Sheridan. I can’t pinpoint the exact scent coming from its open door, but it smells like a mixture of maple syrup and French fries. Maybe heisan excellent chef after all.

Lucia Brothers Fine Foods looks more like a deli you might find on a corner in Manhattan, but when I see a sign promoting fresh coffee, my nose perks up.

The store is small but has most of the staples—water, bread, milk, eggs, and wine—so I stock up. I don’t find many of the ready prepared meals I’m used to eating, so I try to recreate them from the meat selection that they have. I quickly realize that this may be a terrible plan because even though my mother is a fantastic cook, I haven’t inherited her skills.

My mind immediately thinks of Liz’s, and I wonder if I’ve embarrassed myself too much to step foot in there. I evaluate my cart of mac and cheese and bagged lettuce and consider that my pride may lose out to my stomach pretty quickly.

As I’m evaluating the differences between two instant brownie mixes, I notice someone has gotten uncomfortably close to me—New Yorkers usually make it a point not to stare. We tend to keep our heads down and our earphones in and avoid direct eye contact.

Not my new companion.

I turn my head to find a little boy sitting on the bump-out shelf of the produce wall behind me. I estimate him to be about three or four. Of course, that could be completely inaccurate. I’ve never really been around kids. I have no siblings and only one cousin who is a year older than me. For all intents and purposes, I have always been the baby of the family.What do four-year-olds look like these days?

I smile weakly at him and return to browsing. But his stare does not waver. His eyes are brown and beady, hidden just barely behind a curtain of straight blonde hair. I can feel his eyes on the back of my neck. Where is the adult to go with this small person? Don’t they usually come in a package deal?

I turn around and smile again, subtly looking around to see if there is a blonde woman or man who might match this child’s fair complexion.

“Your mom ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?” I say, raising my brow at him. He scrunches his face in one motion, his eyebrows meeting his eyelids, and his lips touching the base of his nose. Even I have to admit, it’s cute.

“Robbie!” The boy’s head snaps up at what I assume to be the sound of his name. I follow his gaze to a woman standing at the bottom of the aisle. She looks to be somewhere about my age, maybe a few years older. Her platinum blonde hair is a mess of pin-curls and her blue eyes stick out like gems on her face. Yep, she goes with this kid.

“Sorry about him,” she says with a smile.

“You’re fine,” I say, batting a hand.

I refocus my attention on the shelf when she says, “You must be from out of town.” I tilt my head, somewhat surprised she’s still speaking to me. Wow, maybe I really need to get out of the city more often. Manhattan has turned me into a robot.

“Guilty,” I say. “I’m renting a lake house for a few weeks,” I reply, tossing both of the brownie mixes into my cart.

“Oh, how nice! You must be up at Al and Mella’s place.”

“That’s me,” I say. I love that everyone can spot the newbie in town, and that they also happen to know exactly where I’m staying. Awesome. I’ll be having nightmares about being slashed in my sleep tonight.

Maybe I watch too many scary movies.

“You may have met my brother, Liam, he lives across the street.”

Of course he does.

“Ah, yes, we met this morning.”

“He’s the friendly type,” she says with a laugh. “You have to try his cooking, it’s just the place next door,” she gestures. “Best food in town,” she says.

“He said as much himself, actually,” I say. She laughs, and a lightness touches her eyes.

“Sounds like our Liam. Anyway, sorry, so rude of me! I’m Jillian, and this is Robbie,” she says, squeezing the little boy to her side.

I smile at him. “We’ve also met. Nice to meet you formally, Robbie. I’m Lucy.” Jillian gives him a nudge and he steps forward, begrudgingly.

“Nice to meet you, Lucy,” he mutters.

“We won’t keep you, but I hope you have a great time in Hudson Hollow. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” she says with a wave.

“Thanks,”complete stranger in the store, I finish in my mind.

When I go to check out, I choose to ignore the raised eyebrows over my five family-size boxes of mac and cheese.

“Having a party tonight?” the man behind the register asks, smiling as he scans the boxes.

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