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Chapter twenty-two

Robbie

“What if I didn’t make enough brownies?” Naomi asks, a wild, panicky look in her eyes as she scans the table of goods.

“You did,” I reassure her for the fifth time while I adjust the tray of individually wrapped cookies to sit at a better angle.

“What if my credit card scanner doesn’t work?”

“It does. We checked it three times,” I say calmly.

“What if I fumble over my words when someone asks me about the exact ingredients in the mini cakes?”

“Then I promise to hide my laugh.”

“Ugh, I should have made another dozen cream puffs,” she says, making it clear that she’s ignoring my responses. She bites repeatedly at her lower lip, and her breathing starts to become erratic.

“Okay. Hey.” I lightly grip her forearm, making eye contact. Sliding my hand down to grab hers, I gently lead her behind the tent, out of view of the other vendors that are setting up.

“Take some deep breaths,” I say calmly.

She inhales sharply then dramatically puffs her cheeks out with her exhale, the panic still evident in her eyes.

“That’s one way to do it,” I remark, holding back a laugh. “Try another one.”

She repeats the same deep breath, allowing her shoulders to sink with her exhale this time.

“Come here.” I pull her gently into a hug, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. She wraps herself around my torso and squeezes me tight. We stand like that for a while, until I’m convinced at least some of her nerves have disappeared.

Eventually, I unwrap myself just enough to bring both hands to cradle her face, making sure her own arms are still locked around me. I tilt her face up, ensuring I have her full attention.

“Repeat after me,” I say. “I, Naomi Tillman…”

“I, Naomi Tillman…” she says, her cheeks moving against my palms.

“Am a confident business owner…”

She starts to protest with a shake of her head.

“Uh-uh,” I interrupt. “You should know this by now, but you’ve been a business owner for a while, sweetheart. Keep going.”

I wait for her to repeat the affirmation.

“Who knows my own worth and is not going to diminish the space I take up just by existing,” I continue.

She repeats, keeping her eyes locked on mine.

“I deserve to be here. I’m offering quality goods that meet my own personal standards—and Robbie’s—and what anyone else thinks of them is none of my business.”

She repeats, a slow smile forming.

“Do you feel better?” I remove my hands, tucking her hair behind her shoulders, before sliding all the way down the length of her arms.

“Yeah.” She sighs, rotating her shoulders, looking noticeably more relaxed. “I do. Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Now can we go sell some stuff?”

“Yes,” she says confidently. “Let’s do it.”

I follow, ducking under the tent back to the table where her first customer, Mrs. Solis, is browsing the two-tiered tray of macaroons.

“Hi there, would you like a sample of those?” Naomi asks without a hint of hesitation in her tone.

“Oh, hello, dear. I tell you what, I could smell your delicious table from all the way over at Minnie’s crochet stand. I couldn’t resist coming straight over after I bought a new pair of gloves from her,” she gushes.

“Oh, well, thank you.” Naomi smiles, a hint of a blush appearing on her cheeks.

“You have made quite the name for yourself around town, honey,” Mrs. Solis says with a smile as she peruses the macaroons.

“Aw, little old me?” Naomi asks humbly, and I watch the whole interaction with a stupid smile on my face. Pride blooms in my chest. I love seeing her get the attention she deserves.

“Absolutely. Now, tell me more about these.”

While they drone on about the inner makeup of macaroons, I zone out, watching the once-empty field of grass filling with more and more people.

They are mostly Pine Falls residents from what I can see, but inevitably, some unfamiliar faces pass by too.

Thankfully, I’ve never known any of my family members to come to this flea market, so my apprehension about being in town isn’t too terribly high.

Four long rows of vendor tables fill the field, each one more unique than the last. The faint smell of mini donuts and hot apple cider threaten to overpower the sweet aroma of Naomi’s desserts, wafting over from the booth next to Ed’s agate and glass figurine table.

“Hello, Robbie,” Opal sings as she sneaks up on my left.

“Hi, Opal.” I nod a greeting at her sidekick as well. “Hi, Iris.”

“I was so excited when I spotted your table, Naomi,” Opal says to Naomi, who averts her attention to us now that Mrs. Solis has successfully checked out. “I simply must bring a few of these muffins home with me.”

“I recommend the banana chocolate chip muffins. They’re to die for,” I tell her.

“How sweet to see the two of you together again,” Iris gushes while Opal makes her selection.

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to get rid of him, but he keeps coming back,” Naomi teases, winking at the women.

“I’ll say,” Opal chimes in. “Hey, do either of you enjoy playing bridge?”

“Not really,” Naomi says at the same time I say, “Sure.”

Naomi whips her head to me, looking at me quizzically.

“What?” I chuckle. “We have long hours on the road.”

“Oh, perfect!” Iris says. “We have an opening on the Pine Falls Area Ladies Bridge Team, and I think you’d be just perfect for it, Robbie.”

“Oh, um…” I stammer, immediately regretting my admission.

“Wouldn’t he be a great addition, Opal?” Iris nudges her with an elbow.

“But I’m not a lady,” I point out in a feeble attempt to backtrack.

“Minor detail.” Opal waves her hand, dismissing me. I don’t miss that Naomi has stayed quiet next to me, hiding a smirk behind her sleeve.

“I’ll have to check my schedule before I commit,” I tell them.

“No worries. We know where to find you.”

I give Iris my best smile, but I’m fairly certain it falls flat.

“You know, I saw your mother yesterday, Robbie, and she just cannot believe how often you’ve been spotted around town. This must be a new record for you,” Opal says nonchalantly, as if those words don’t completely wreck me as soon as they come out of her mouth.

The half-smile immediately falls from my face at the mention of my mom, my stomach souring and twisting at the same time. I nod politely but turn to grab a to-go bag, needing a distraction to remove myself from the conversation.

Just like that, my good mood vanishes as I’m confronted yet again with another reminder of why I can’t stand being here. I can’t escape them—nor the long-buried feelings that always seem to surface here—no matter where I go.

Frustration billows in my gut at the inconvenient reminder, but I convince myself to take a steadying breath before it gets too out of hand.

The last thing I want to do is ruin Naomi’s day.

I push the turmoil down as far as it will go then silently slide the muffins into the bag while Naomi takes the payment.

“Well, we better mosey on along and see what other gems we can find today. See you two lovebirds later!” Iris says.

I can feel Naomi’s eyes on me as we wave the ladies off. Then, with a break in customers, we settle down onto the two card table chairs.

Giving her a reassuring smirk, I grip the leg of her chair and slide it bumpily over the grass closer to mine until the outside of her legging-clad leg brushes against mine.

It’s a purely selfish move to get her closer to me in an attempt to drown out the thought of my family, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

“So, you leave tomorrow?” she asks cautiously, testing my mood. I immediately feel guilty for making her worry about me.

“Tomorrow afternoon, yeah.” To say I have conflicting emotions about leaving would be an understatement. I desperately need to get out of here and away from the painful reminders that I clearly can’t escape…but the thought of leaving her makes my chest physically ache.

“Where are you playing this time?”

“I think we’re playing at an outdoor music festival near Lake Powell. That’s what Dane mentioned this morning, anyway.”

“That sounds like fun.” Her eyes dance with delight, and I’m convinced that she’s already envisioning everything that my travels will entail.

“Why don’t you come with me?” I blurt out, suddenly desperate for her to have the chance to experience it for herself—not to mention the selfish urge I feel to have her all to myself outside of Pine Falls.

“Go with you?” she asks, her brows flying up in surprise.

“Yeah. Seriously, it would be fun.”

“Oh, I don’t know… I have to work. My dad has a very strict advance notice policy for vacation time.”

“Why does that not surprise me? When was the last time you took a vacation day?”

“Well, I had to leave early on a Friday last month for the baking trade show, but I only missed an hour and a half, and I put in the request two whole months prior, per his rules.”

I contemplate how we might be able to convince her dad to let her go, but just then a gentleman saunters over to check out the cookie selection at the same time a family stops to peruse Naomi’s business flyer.

“Alright. Think about it, anyway,” I tell her as we both stand up, ready to give our full attention to the customers.