Page 88 of The Bright Side of Brooding
Bec shuffled in the door a minute later. “Sorry I’m late. Donna ran into car trouble coming back from her lunch.”
“You’re fine,” I said, a thrill of delight running through me. “This is the easy part—walk around, answer questions, fold stuff that gets messy.”
Bec didn’t have any days off since she’d taken quite a few after Thatcher’s accident, but she’d be here during her lunch hour and then after. Emily had taken the whole day, as had Katie. Livie would be here tomorrow. Ariel would arrive in a few hours. They’d shown up for me, no question, and had done it joyfully.
And Nick… hopefully, Nick had gotten my messages about today. He’d responded to the first one and said he looked forward to talking after the rotation. Then nothing. I’d watched for his car, the lights at his house, and I would swear he hadn’t been home the entire time, but that seemed unlikely.
Still, I didn’t ever see him or signs of him, so today would be the first opportunity. I didn’t know what time he’d finish up his obligations. I hadn’t received any sign that he’d seen the text telling him the swap started today, that it was the new project I’d thrown together in record time, and that I hoped he’d come see.
Several spouses wandered in, coffees in hand. The closest thing to a Starbucks was the small coffee shop that shared the building with this multipurpose room,Brew. They made decent coffee when the machines worked and provided an option on post. Since the post itself was situated ten minutes from the nearest town and twenty from any stores and restaurants, the shop had a corner on the market.
Excitement swirled in me as more people filtered in. No soldiers yet, but the military and contractor spouses would be the first, and some of the best, customers. My goal was to see as much of the stuff on tables and displayed throughout the room go to specific people, but whatever we had leftover would be donated to locations in the surrounding area.
The satisfaction of being here and seeing my friends and several other people I knew from work or feast nights, folding clothes, answering questions… nothing about this felt like failure. Sharing the burden had been a relief, and genuinely no part of me had clutched at the duties, reluctant to delegate or rely on others.
Honestly? After the joy of seeing how the community rallied to donate so much so quickly, and how amazing the volunteers had been, the primary feeling I had was relief. I’d wondered if my ability to work with others had been destroyed over the last few months of hoarding plans for the food drive and getting so addled about how to accomplish a goal.
And though at one point, I thought I’d worked through all those nasty reminders of my past, the last few weeks had shown me I hadn’t. Maybe we never fully tuck away the hurts and have to be vigilant against them, or at least keep learning from them. This moment felt like a culmination of lessons learned from both my past and now this iteration of me.Thislesson would carry me forward and remind me, yet again, that working with others and receiving help and being open with people wasn’t weakness. It was an asset and a strength, and it made good things happen. I swallowed down a gush of emotion that wetted my eyes.
“You okay?”
Nick’s voice startled me from my moment, and I whipped around.
“Yes,” I said, taking him in.
Camo paint caked on his face and flaking off at his temples. His hair was matted down from his patrol cap, and maybe his helmet before that. He looked rumpled, exhausted, and completely gorgeous. “Hi.”
His blue eyes settled on mine. “Hi, Summer.”
Oh, the warmth in the way he said my name sent a burst of pure joy through me. I balled my fists, like that would help me not first throw myself at him and kiss him, and second, make a fool of myself by confessing every big, scary feeling I had for the man right here next to the collection of costume jewelry.
“Hi, Nick. Thank you for coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said, his eyes sweeping over the room. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”
“We’vebeen busy. I had a total of ten volunteers helping me this week setting up and then on shifts throughout the weekend.”
“That’s great.” His voice sounded a little gruff, probably from lack of sleep.
“You don’t have to stay. I’ll be here on and off all weekend. It’s done on Sunday, and we’ll load everything up in boxes that I have someone delivering to donation sites on Monday. But I am hoping you can come to feast night?”
His brows shot up, then settled again, like he hadn’t meant to react that way. “Uh, sure.”
“Great. Thank you for coming. Go get a shower and sleep. I’ll see you later this weekend.” I set a hand on his arm and squeezed.
Before I pulled away, one of his large, warm hands covered my own and held it there. Flutters filled my belly at the touch and the typically intense Nick look he gave me.
“See you Sunday.”
He slipped out the door just as another big group arrived to browse. I got lost in the bustle, which provided a nice distraction from the longing pulsing a little stronger now that I’d gotten to see him for just a moment.
Soon.
Soon we’d talk, and I’d tell him everything, and hopefully, his feelings would be the same.
