Page 56 of Wish For Me

“It’s in my genes.” He looks over at me and gives me that crooked grin, and the last shred of my resolve begins to melt.

In front of us, Enzo takes us down the riverfront, which is lined with a walkway overlooking the water. He parks close to that old, boarded-up church on the river downtown.

I suspect we’re going to that new restaurant with the huge patio across the street. It’s early for dinner, but I know from the small-talk I overheard on the sleigh that Enzo and his Dad’s property business bought a stake in it this summer.

“I think they mean a steak,” Leif had said. I laughed way too hard at his ridiculous dad joke.

As I get out of the car, I glance toward the church, feeling slightly wistful. “Remember when we talked about that place being a theater?” I ask.

Leif follows my gaze. “I still think it would have made a great one.”

“I was so sad when the for sale sign came down this summer.”

“It was the end of an era,” Leif says. “Apparently there was some kind of zoning issue that kept turning buyers away over the years.”

“It’s resolved now,” Enzo says, coming up behind us. Then he passes us, walking in the opposite direction of the restaurant, jingling a key ring.

I pause, confused.

Enzo smiles as Leif encourages me to follow. “My cousin says you’ve always been interested in this place—I happen to know the owner, and after Leif did a good amount of begging, I convinced him to let you take a peek.”

“Seriously?” I ask, my heart skipping.

“Begging?” Leif says.

Enzo looks at Leif. “Sorry. Threatening.” Then to me, he grins and says, “Seriously.”

That grin is like a lethal weapon. Too bad I like lopsided ones better.

I hook my arm through Leif’s, my stomach dancing with excitement.

“It’s a bit messy in here,” Enzo apologizes as he jiggles the key in the lock.

“It’s totally fine,” I say. “I’m just so grateful the owner doesn’t mind you doing this.”

Enzo pulls open the door. “He’s cool. He’s just holding the property for now. At some point he’ll probably fix it up and resell it. He usually makes housing, but I’m not sure about this place. It’s special.”

“It really is,” I whisper as we step into the vestibule. Immediately I feel a hole in my heart where I feel like this place could have gone.

As we cross through the second set of doors, the pulse of my heart echoes in my ears.

I don’t know why I feel like this. Even if it were still for sale, I wouldn’t have been able to afford it. I knew; I’d looked up the listing several times over the years when I was still in New York. Prime waterfront location. Beautiful old building, sturdy brick and gorgeous wood interior, which we look at now as we step through into the main area of the church, which Enzo calls the nave.

My breath hitches as I take it in. It smells musty, and it’s dark, but light streams in from the stained glass windows illuminating a vast, empty space. I picture actors moving across the elevated stage at the front.

“It’s one of the oldest buildings in town, if not the oldest,” Enzo says. “It hasn’t been a church in decades. Since the 1920s, as far as we can tell, and it’s passed through a few hands since then.”

I scan the chairs stacked against the walls. “Has it been anything since?”

“It was a dance hall for a bit. Then a daycare for about a decade in the 1980s. Nothing since then.”

I turn around in a circle in the empty space. “It’s incredible.” There’s a balcony at the back, and space in the foyer where a ticket booth would be perfectly situated. The elevated area at the front is enormous. There’d be room for massive set decorations. I wonder if there’s room for dressing rooms in the back…offices for the director…

When I turn back to Leif, my chest squeezes. He’s looking at me with such unabashed joy it makes my pulse quicken. I look away, embarrassed. He knows what I was thinking.

“You have a vision,” Enzo says.

“I’m sorry?” I stammer, suddenly embarrassed.

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