Page 81 of One Small Spark
Every new message I get from Lila about the town hall presentation kicks my anxiety higher.
Lila: Let’s set aside some time to go over your slideshow ideas
Lila: Do you have your presentation to run by me yet?
Lila: No rush. Still plenty of time
Lila: And I don’t have final approval or anything
Lila: Just offering to look it over!
Lila: I’m drumming up a lot of interest for you!
Lila: You’re going to do great!
I thought I’d be nervous about having dinner with Wren tonight, but it’s Sunshine’s tourism coordinator who’s got my palms sweating.
I arrived at Magnifico early, but nobody in the book group thought to make a reservation for a Friday night. While the wait staff works to get a table for eight together, I’m on a leather seat in the waiting area, doom scrolling my text messages.
I’ve been working on the presentation in my off hours, but I’m not ready to share it with Lila yet. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to actually get on stage and make my impassioned plea for community support.
Shepherd: I’m getting there
Feels like a lie, but I hitSendanyway.
Wren walks through the restaurant’s doors looking like the embodiment of a warm hug. She’s wearing a long, brown, thick-knit cardigan over a graphic tee. It’s printed withThe Female Gazeover an illustration of Medusa, hair-snakes going wild.
Marry me already, Krause.
Her eyes light up when she sees me, and my heart leaps. I’ve stopped by the bakery twice this week, and it hasn’t been nearly enough.
“Am I actually early?” She glances around the small waiting area, probably looking for the rest of our friends. A few other larger parties fill the space, but no meddling women from the romance book group.
“You’re right on time.” I’ve been here for a good ten minutes with no sign of them. My anxiety goes into overdrive if I’m late to anything.
She looks me over, her gaze warming as she takes in my rust-colored sweater.
Yes, I took Fran’s advice. Probably a bad idea on most counts, but tonight, something other than flannel felt like the right choice.
“I feel underdressed,”she says.
“You’re perfect.”
Her skeptical smile draws me closer, but my phone starts buzzing in my pocket. I would ignore it, but Wren’s phone apparently does the same thing. She looks at hers, too.
Ada: Is anyone at the restaurant yet?
I type a quick message.
Shepherd: Wren and I are here
Ada: Oh, good. I’m having such a terrible case of allergies tonight
Ada: I can’t make it, I’m so sorry
“That doesn’t explain the others—” I start to say, but more messages pop up.
Isabel: I so wanted to have dinner with everyone tonight, but I have a headache
