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EIGHT

ANDRE

Arriving at Red’s, I spotted Mickey, who was settled at the booth farthest from the door. He was sipping coffee, no doubt his maple blend, while reading on his phone.

The diner radiated its typical easygoing Sunday afternoon energy—that lull between brunch and dinner when people indulged in coffee and snacks. Despite our festival discussion, the vibe offered a respite from the whirlwind of preparations.

“Hey.” I slid in across from Mickey. “Sorry I’m late. Got caught up with Grace about the theater’s programming. She and Elena have put together something incredible.”

Mickey waved off my apology. “No worries. Just sat down. Once I give you my update, perhaps you can relax and put the festival aside for a few minutes.”

“You’ve met me, right?” I quirked my eyebrow comically high, wiggling it up and down until Mickey snorted with laughter.

The moment of levity felt good. “I’m not sure I can go more than thirty seconds without festival thoughts.

” I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “Last night I dreamed the parade made a wrong turn and ended up going right out of town. I couldn’t run fast enough to catch it. ”

Mickey shook his head. “Not sure if that’s a sign you need reassurance or a year off after being in charge for three.”

I grunted but kept smiling. “For now I’ll settle for lunch. I’m starving.”

Mickey caught Ingrid’s eye, and she took our orders—a club sandwich and ginger ale for me, a burger and root beer for Mickey.

As he ordered, my gaze drifted out the window.

People strolled by, basking in the beautiful day.

The kind that made you want to linger over lunch and forget responsibilities.

I’d have more time for that in eight days.

“So, how are things with the food? Any last-minute hiccups?”

Mickey’s eyes gleamed with confidence. “Everything’s set, unless someone changes something up.

Found out today that Special Blend is doing special maple bacon donuts, which will have rainbow colors.

I got to sample one. It’s next level.” He looked for a moment like he was experiencing the flavor again. “They need to be on the regular menu.”

My stomach growled in anticipation. “They sound yummy. I wish you'd brought me one?”

“Duly noted for next time. Bring Andre all of the next-level treats to sample.” Mickey smirked at me as he continued scrolling through his phone notes. “And Mrs. Nguyen is debuting a maple-infused kimchi that’s amazing. And we’ve got a food truck bringing in maple pulled pork sliders.”

“Sounds like we’ll need to hand out stretchy pants at the entrance.

” I was only half joking. Maplewood’s festivals always tempted me to overindulge.

Not only would there be amazing food for Pride, but just a week later there was the Fourth of July and so much amazing ice cream. “But seriously, great job.”

“I’m proud that we’ve got so many options. You could eat something different every day of the festival. All the vendors are also on board for being at the picnic.”

Our food arrived and we dug in, our conversation on pause as we savored our meal. My mind drifted from the festival to its other favorite topic: Ethan Gallagher.

Heat crept up my neck as I imagined his smile, his laugh…

“What?” I asked, catching Mickey studying me. “Do I have mayo on my face?” I grabbed my napkin, self-consciously wiping my mouth.

Mickey’s brow furrowed. “No, nothing like that. You just seem… distracted. And I don’t think it’s the festival.”

The flush deepened. Was I that transparent? “I’m just eating,” I mumbled, taking another bite.

“Uh-huh.” Mickey wasn’t buying it. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain hockey player turned grand marshal, would it?”

“What? No, of course not.” Even I didn’t believe how that sounded.

Mickey’s expression softened. “Andre, come on. I’ve known you both since high school. You two talked, didn’t you?” Concern flashed in his eyes. “That didn’t make things worse, did it?”

I set down my sandwich, shoulders sagging. “No. I mean, yes, we talked. But no, things didn’t get worse. It’s all so… complicated.”

I wiped my mouth, trying to hide the smile that had formed. It was such a change that thinking about Ethan now triggered more smiles than frowns.

“What happened?”

With a deep breath, I tried to organize my thoughts.

“We had this… moment. We talked—really talked—for the first time ever. And I realized how wrong I’d been about him all these years.

This image I had of the perfect, popular athlete who got everything?

So off base. I had no idea what life was like for him. ”

“Ethan shares a lot with close friends, but he’s not one to bare his soul to everyone. It’s not your fault you didn’t see past the facade he put up back then.”

“But I should have,” I insisted. “I was so caught up in my own world that I didn’t even bother to ask. Instead, I assumed things and missed out on knowing someone I actually admired.”

“You can now, though, right?”

“Maybe. He said he wants to get together after the festival. But why would he want to get to know me after how crappy I made him feel?”

“Do I need to make a list? You’re both amazing people. Why wouldn’t you want to know each other?” Mickey’s eyes widened as he leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “Wait, is there more going on than a possible friendship?”

My heart raced and I shrugged. “The thought terrifies me.”

“Why?” Mickey asked softly.

“Because it’s Ethan.” I paused, hoping that explained everything, but Mickey’s expectant gaze forced me to continue. “We have all this terrible history. What if I’m reading too much into things and he doesn’t feel the same way?”

Mickey was quiet for a moment. “Can I tell you something? Something only one other person knows?”

“Of course.”

“Back in college, I had the biggest crush on this musician, Fred.” Mickey’s voice softened.

“He was hot, charming, and smart. Watching him play piano was mesmerizing, the emotions crossing his face… We had a couple of classes together and I got to know him. But I never took the chance to ask him out. I told myself someone as creative as him wouldn’t want a small-town boy like me. ”

“That’s on my mind too. Why on earth would he want to be with a librarian from his hometown? What kind of heartbreak am I setting myself up for?”

“What if you’re setting yourself up for the best thing ever? Ethan asked me that question when I told him about my crush, and it’s something you should think about.”

I sat back, mulling over Mickey’s words. It seemed simple, but it would be an enormous leap. “So you think I should tell Ethan how I feel?”

Mickey shrugged. “I’m not saying declare your undying love right now. But you should give yourself a chance to see what might happen.”

The bell over the diner door chimed, and Olivia walked in. We traded smiles as she stopped at the counter to chat with Ingrid before coming over.

“Hey, you two. Mind if I join you for a minute while I wait for my order?”

“Of course not,” I said. “We were just talking about the festival.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Olivia grabbed a chair from one of the nearby tables. “A couple of artists arrived today to set up their larger installations. Oh, and did you guys catch the press conference about Ethan’s charity hockey game?”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t make it over there. How did it go?”

“It was great.” Olivia pulled out her phone, showing me a photo.

“I happened to be near the rink and stopped by. Ethan was there with Dixon Cliff, who’s already in town.

Ethan talked about how important events like the game and the festival are for bringing the community together, celebrating diversity, and raising money for a great cause.

Alex was there, just like always, snapping pics for the town socials.

TV and newspapers from out of town were there too. ”

Alex covered every town event and was incredibly fast getting posts up on the city’s website and social media. Between him and Wade the festival would be well covered.

“That’s great there was out-of-town coverage,” I said.

“Did you know how many players he’s got coming in?” Olivia looked between us. We both shook our heads. “It’s like ten. I might not have counted right, but it’s a lot. Plus, they’ll have autographed jerseys and other stuff in an auction. Tickets are almost sold out.”

“I’d heard that,” I said. “And that was just with Ethan and Dixon on the website. There was a mention of more guest players to be announced, but I hadn’t expected so many.”

“He’s going to put the rest of us who organize festival events to shame.” Mickey’s tone was light.

“Right?” Olivia added.

Her order was called, and she hopped up. “I better get going. See you two later.”

We nodded and said our goodbyes as she pushed her chair back in.

Mickey turned to me with a raised eyebrow. “So, back to Ethan.”

Hope fluttered in my chest, quickly followed by anxiety. “I don’t know. Even if he is into it… what if it all goes wrong?”

“It might work out or it won’t,” Mickey said, matter-of-factly. “But isn’t it worth finding out? Don’t even get me started on how long it’s been since you had a date.”

I groaned and shook my head.

“You can make that noise all you want but I stand by what I said about it being worth finding out.”

I gazed out the window again, watching a couple stroll by hand in hand. My heart skipped a beat, imagining Ethan’s fingers intertwined with mine.

Sighing, I gave in to the idea. “Maybe.”

We finished lunch, chatting about the upcoming film screenings and what we hoped to see.

“Thanks for listening and for the advice,” I said as we got up.

Mickey pulled me into a quick hug. “Anytime. Just promise me one thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t hold back from exploring what might be. It’s cliché but true that life’s too short for what-ifs and maybes.”

I nodded, determination swelling in my chest. “I’ll try.”

On the way back to the library, my mind raced. The festival was days away, bringing countless opportunities to be near Ethan. So many maybes ran through my mind.

There might be a spark there. Could I let myself be open to where it might lead?

If nothing else, perhaps we could actually become friends like we were with so many others in town. But deep down, I had to admit that a part of me hoped for more.