Page 6 of Everything Has Changed
“Unfortunately, I do have a tad bit more of not so great news.” My mom’s voice grows somber enough that I worry it might actually be bad news. I guess it is in her book. “I will need to pass along the planning baton for the Harvest Festival. This year needs to be the biggest and best, therefore we have decided to extend the festivities with a masquerade gala the following night. I can’t handle both, so I will need someone to head the festival while I take on the gala.”
My father interrupts with a clearing of his throat. “That’s where Logan comes in. This upcoming year we are due for some infrastructureupdates, and this event is going to go a long way toward that. We need all hands on deck.” His eyes cut to me. “What better way to thank the town for welcoming you back than making this the best year we have seen? Don’t you agree, Logan?”
All heads turn toward me as my father smirks, knowing he backed me into a corner so I can’t say no, while also pushing me into a task he’s built up so high I bet he couldn’t even reach it.
I bite my tongue against the truth I want to toss out at him, instead addressing the people around the table. “Absolutely. I look forward to it.”
“Wonderful, anything else?” He looks toward my mother expectantly.
“Actually,” she starts, an irritated look in her eyes as she cuts them over at my father. “I had someone in mind, but I do think it would be beneficial for Logan to have his name attached, too. I hope she won’t mind…” Mom nibbles on her lip, thinking for a second until she looks toward the doorway. Her expression lights up when she sees who is walking in. “Gwendolyn, perfect timing.”
I tilt my head to the door, bracing myself for the girl I used to know. And while it is still who I remember, from the sheepish grin to her long strawberry blond locks that fall in her face as she juggles the pastry boxes in her arms, Gwen Prescott isn’t the teenage girl I see in my mind after all this time. No, she is all woman now.
“Speak of the devil and he shall appear, am I right?” She chuckles as her eyes go around the room, stopping just shy of me, as the boxes tilt to the left a little too much. I can see the fall happening in slow motion. I don’t think as I jump to my feet, catching the tumbling box before it crashes to the floor.
Gwen fumbles to keep the rest of them straight as I stand to my full height in front of her.
“Oh my god, that’s embarrassing,” she mutters under her breath while a tinge of pink blooms on her cheeks.
Wanting to ease her worry, I whisper in response, “I promise no one saw that. Actually, maybe Harry, but he has no room to judge with those butterfingers.”
“I heard that,” he chuckles from behind my back.
“Logan,” her pink lips part on my name, sending my sight straight down to the plump skin. Her tongue darts out to wet them.
“Hey, Gwenny.”
She blinks at her nickname, taking a step back on an inhale so deep I can see her chest move. Don’t ask me the color of anything, because I’m trying too hard not to track my gaze all over this new-to-me adult version of my childhood friend in a low-cut shirt.
“Logan, dear, bring those treats over here,” Mom tsks. “They are not all for you.”
The table chuckles, reminding me we have an audience. I take a step back to let Gwen pass me. Her scent invades my senses when she passes in front of me, and I want to follow her if only to catch another whiff when she’s too far away to smell it again. It’s something floral with a hint of peaches.
I shake my head to clear it from the fog that seems to be Gwendolyn Prescott in adulthood.
She smiles down at my parents, more so my mom while giving my father a polite tilt of her lips. Lifting the lid of one of the boxes, she turns it in his direction to pick what he wants.
“Ah, Ophelia’s strawberry scone,” he hums as he takes a bite.
“Made just for you, Mayor Spencer.”
I squint at their exchange, knowing my father gets a kick out of being called that. I want to tell her not to, as to not feed into his ego, but it’s too late for that when his chest puffs up slightly.
“And Mrs. Spencer, a blueberry muffin for you.” Gwen reaches in and takes out a picture-perfect oversized muffin that has my mouth watering.
“You know the way to my heart,” Mom winks at her.
The rest of the table passes around the boxes, picking out their choices and digging in without another moment wasted. I can’t say I blame them as I eye all the baked goods laid out on the table now.
“Logan,” Mom interrupts my thoughts. “Have a seat and grab a pastry before the vultures eat them all. You do not want to miss the magic that comes out of Gwen and Ophelia’s kitchen.” She pats Gwen’s hand on the table, and I watch as the blush that was on her cheeks before spreads down her neck.
“I don’t think we need introductions, do we?” Dad raises an eyebrow at me before nodding toward my vacant seat—a silent warning to take my seat again, or else.
I follow his request if only to avoid making a scene in front of everyone. “No, Gwen and I go way back. Right?” I smirk over at her as she takes the last empty seat near my mom.
“That’s right,” she agrees without making eye contact with me. “Can’t forget childhood neighbors that easily.”
“Or science lab partners,” I add on as the memory of my senior year tickles the back of my mind.
