Page 55 of The Overdue Kiss

Unlocking my phone, I scroll to search for Mr. Sherman in my contacts right when Reese calls.

“Hello?”

“Oh, hey. I swear I didn’t even hear it ring. Anyway, I’m calling to see what day you need me to install the fiber optics line. It might take me a day or so, and I need to let Lewis know which day I won’t be in the shop.”

“I wish I had a date to tell you, but the historical society declined my request.”

Reese sucks in a breath. “I’m sorry, Maya. They are notorious for doing that. When the antique shop wanted to change their carpet, it was like removing a stripped screw to get their request approved. Des would know more. He goes to those meetings when he can.”

A sliver of hope twinkles in my chest. “Oh, good. I’ll call him next.”

“Don’t bother. I’m heading to his place now. Why don’t I come grab you and we can work out a plan?”

“Perfect. I’ll throw on my jacket and wait for you outside.”

Reese is prompt, pulling into the driveway with a long whistle. “Is this how the richer half lives? Must be nice.”

Laughing, I climb into the car and buckle in. “I wouldn’t know. I live on the third floor of an apartment building. No mountain views, no laundry room, and no elevator—but the rent is affordable.”

She puts on her signal and turns down a side street. “I have you beat. I live above the auto shop in the tiniest studio apartment. Everything smells like exhaust and oil.”

“At least you’re never late to work.”

“You’d think, right?” She tilts her head at me and laughs. “But I’m working on one flaw at a time. I don’t want to overwhelm myself and relapse.”

“The fact that you’re being so careful is a good sign. You’re doing great.”

“I really want it to stick this time. Not just for me, but for Des and Granny. I don’t want to disgrace our family like my mom did. I’m not going to let this thing control me anymore.” She blinks, her eyes watering before she forces a laugh and runs her fingers through her hair, the strands shimmering in the sunlight. “And sobriety has done wonders for my skin and hair.”

“I’m sure they will be proud of you no matter what. Just take it one day at a time.”

She smiles at that and turns into Des’s driveway. Clearing her throat, she pauses before getting out, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.

“Thanks for listening. A few months ago, I never talked to anyone about this, and now? It’s all I blab about. It’s silly, really.”

“No, I don’t think that at all.” I place a hand on her arm. “Every day is a battle for you and probably will be for some time. Of course it’s something constantly on your mind. I love hearing about your progress, big or small. So don’t ever feel like it’s too much for me. Talk about it as much as you want—just know I’m proud of you.”

Her smile cracks and her face pinches as she lets out a strangled sob, and she reaches over the console to pull me into a hug.

“Seriously, Maya, you are so wonderful. I hope you’ll keep coming back after all your library business is over.”

My gaze drifts to the house in front of us as longing fills me. “I will. Promise.”

“Good. I was afraid I’d have to keep your spare part hostage so you’d stay longer.” She leans away and dabs a tissue at her eyes before tucking it in her jeans pocket. “Surprise, it’s arriving tomorrow. You’ll be able to drive around to your heart’s content.”

“Great,” I say, the word slowly deflating.

The thought of leaving this quaint town leaves a pit of dread in my stomach. I knew the day was coming and I shouldn’t be surprised, but I thought I had more time. I grab my necklace, running my thumb over it.

I’m not ready to leave yet.

“Come on, let’s go inside and see if Des can help you write up an appeal for your request so you can stop worrying.”

I nod, trying to shake the brain fog, and follow her inside. A fruity fragrance stops me at the door, like overripe strawberries freshly picked from the field. And from the looks of it, I’m not far off. A small trash can overflows with strawberry hulls, the nearby cutting board stained red.

Des is focused, not sparing us a glance as he mixes his giant stew pot with a wooden spoon. Gooey bubbles pop within, the liquid thick and sticky sounding.

“It’s about time you showed up. I need help chopping the—Maya.” His sentence ends in a shriek. “Hey. Hi. Glad to see you.”

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