Page 14 of Someone to Have (Skylark #3)

TAYLOR

After the library closes, I walk over to Cover to Cover, the bookstore Sloane owns on the opposite end of downtown.

It’s just after five and already nearly dark.

There are a few restaurants along Main Street with cheery lights in the windows, but it feels like the town has mostly hunkered down for Colorado’s coldest months.

Normally, I like the lull after the holidays.

People are less interested in being social, which translates to relief for me.

Everyone is busy renewing and resetting their resolutions, so when I stay home to read a book on a weekend night, it doesn’t feel like I’m the odd one out.

Like it did in my extroverted family, where my preference for quiet corners was treated like a personality defect that needed fixing.

My sister and brother collected friends like trading cards, while I preferred the company of characters from my favorite books.

My parents’ calendar overflowed with dinner parties and community events, while I invented stomachaches to avoid sensory overload.

I tried to convince myself there wasn’t something wrong with me. I was just wired differently.

The book club is the first social circle where I truly felt like I belonged and could be my real self. But now that Sadie and Iris have found love, Sloane’s away for treatment, and Avah’s engaged to her longtime boyfriend, our little group doesn’t get together as often.

This should be fine with me. I’ve spent a lifetime perfecting the art of being alone. But there’s a hollowness to it now that catches me off guard. Even though alone has always been my sanctuary, it’s an entirely different sensation to actually feel lonely.

I take off my hat and mittens as I enter the bookstore and wave at Connie Bradford, the older woman who’s managing things during Sloane’s treatment.

“Everyone’s in back,” she calls from her place behind the cash register.

The bookstore’s as warm and inviting as ever, but there’s something missing. Sloane is the magic that makes Cover to Cover a must-stop destination for both local book lovers and visitors to this part of Colorado.

I expect to find my friends in the cozy back room where we normally hold our monthly meetings, but it’s empty.

Instead, I hear voices coming from Sloane’s office down the short hallway.

I crack open the door to find the other four women crowded around the computer screen.

Tears immediately spring to my eyes at the sight of Sloane’s face smiling back at the group from her hospital bed.

She looks thin and pale, her bald head wrapped in a light blue turban that makes her robin’s egg-colored eyes stand out even more.

“Surprise,” Molly says as Sadie guides me forward so that I’m in front of the camera.

“Taylor’s here, Sloane.” Iris’s voice is gentle, which is unusual for our type-A friend. Ever since she reconnected with Jake Byrne and started working for his family’s foundation, Iris has been more relaxed in general. Love looks good on her.

“Hey,” I whisper as tears and emotions threaten to clog my throat. “You look great. ”

Sloane rolls her eyes and grins. “You’re such a bad liar.”

Avah barks out a laugh. “It’s okay, Taylor. We’ve already established she looks like shit.”

“I feel like shit, too,” Sloane confirms. Hearing her sweet, lyrical voice and seeing her smiling face feels so right. Except for the part where she looks sick. That hurts my heart.

“I’m sorry for the tears,” I say, swiping at my cheeks.

Sadie puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. “We’ve also taken turns with the waterworks.”

“I’m out of tears for the moment,” Sloane tells me. “But I’m also out of the woods.” Her smile wobbles a little before she nods. “At least for the time being.”

“What kind of woods?” I glance around the group then back at the computer. “Are we talking about some random trees or a national forest?”

“I vote for a giant redwood forest,” Avah offers.

“Or like when Buttercup and Wesley made it out of the Fire Swamp,” Molly adds.

Sloane laughs softly and rolls her eyes. “Not actual woods, you guys.” She winks. “I wanted to wait to give an update until you got here, Taylor.”

“I’m here,” I confirm like she doesn’t already know that.

“I’m sorry I ghosted everyone the past couple weeks. It’s been rougher than I expected, and I let my emotions get the best of me.”

“You’re allowed to do that,” I assure her.

She adjusts the turban. “Yeah, but I can’t kick the Big C’s ass if I’m spending all my time being a sad sack.”

Molly dips her head close to mine. “The cutest and bravest sad sack we know.”

“Sloane, it’s so good to see you.” My heart is expanding inside my chest. “No matter what kind of sack you are. Does this mean you’re coming home soon?”

Her smile tightens. “Hopefully. The doctors want to confirm I’m stable enough to have my follow-up treatment transferred to Denver.

” She huffs out a small laugh. “My brother is still being an ass and insisting I hop on his private jet to Nashville for every appointment.” The smile fades.

“I need to get home and back to the bookstore.”

“Don’t worry about anything here,” Iris says. “We’ve got your back no matter how long it takes. Connie is doing a great job.”

“Although she’s not you,” Molly adds. “We miss you, Sloane.”

She smiles again, or tries to, but it falters. “I sent another email to Kristen Quinn, telling her how much her book inspired us and how our bucket list club is helping me feel not so alone during this time.”

“Did she respond this time?” Sadie asks.

Sloane has a habit of reaching out to authors she loves—at least their publishers and agents.

The last book we read was written by the famous mystery writer Spencer Charles, who turned out to be the pen name for Iris’s boyfriend, Jake.

A heck of a story, given that she picked the book.

I’m sure they would have ended up together no matter what, but it felt a little bit like destiny.

Having him come to our book club made it all the more special.

In retrospect, anyway. At the time, none of us knew Jake was writing the books, and it didn’t exactly go over well with Iris.

But now it’s part of the lore of their love story.

And I have a feeling Sloane believes connecting with the author of The Year of Losing It , the book that inspired the start of the bucket list, could be just as important.

“Nothing but a generic response from her publisher. I DMd her, too. I’ve been stalking her social media, so I know she’s traveling a lot.”

“I’m sure you’ll eventually hear from her,” Sadie offers.

Avah gives a disgusted snort. I don’t think Sloane hears it, but Molly nudges our outspoken friend before she can talk crap about Kristen Quinn. Avah has been the least impressed with the author of the memoir-slash-personal-development book that has become so important to Sloane .

Before things get too off track, I lean closer to the camera. “I have news on my bucket list goal.”

A hush falls over the group, and I can almost feel them making eye contact with each other behind me.

“Oh, yay!” Sloane claps her hands at the camera, not a trace of judgment or doubt in her clear blue eyes.

I’m happy she’s happy, and appreciate that none of my friends have let it slip how miserably I failed at my first attempt to overcome my shyness and stage fright. “I hoped to have something to report before the holidays but got a little off track,” I admit.

Sloane offers a slow nod. “Same, girl, same.”

Her understanding bolsters my confidence. “I’m going to do something big—at least for me. I want to make this count, you know?”

“I appreciate that,” our friend says, offering a thumbs-up through the camera.

I clear my throat because it feels like a bird’s nest is lodged inside it. “I’m trying out for a role in the community theater’s newest production.”

“The fuck you are,” Avah blurts.

I turn and meet her gaze. “No, really. I am. That’s the plan, anyway.”

“Are you sure you want to bite off something that public?” Molly asks gently. I see her pinch the back of Avah’s arm to discourage more colorful commentary.

“Molly might have a point,” Sadie agrees.

I turn back toward the computer, my eyes stinging. Not that my friends have much reason to believe in me, but it still hurts. That’s probably on me. I was always known as the sensitive one in my family.

“Do you think it’s a bad idea?” I ask Sloane.

She takes so long to answer that I wonder if the connection might be bad.

“I think you should choose a challenge that means something to you,” she says slowly. “But it’s also important that you can succeed at whatever it is. If your last time on stage is any indication--”

“I’m not the same person I was as a kid.” I’m speaking to all of them. “You guys, seriously. I manage story time at the library. I know it’s not the same thing, but I do fine reading to an audience.”

“You also beg the parents to leave the children’s area before you begin,” Molly points out.

She crouches down next to me and puts an arm around my shoulder. “Sloane will be happy with whatever you pick,” she says. “We all will. It doesn’t have to be huge, Taylor, just meaningful to you.”

“Look at my bucket list goal,” Sadie offers. “Having sex wouldn’t have been a big deal for most of you, but it was huge for me.”

“ Huge because you did it with the hot quarterback,” Avah says, waggling her perfectly shaped brows. “At least we assume he’s huge, since you won’t confirm anything.”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Sadie says primly. “And that’s not the point.”

“Mine also wasn’t a big deal to anyone but me.” Iris steps closer to me. “Most people know how to have fun without forcing it. I’m wound a little tighter than your average bear. But I love dancing. I knew that before I chose my activity and signed up for the class.”

“I love theater,” I argue.

“On stage?” Molly asks.

“I’m going to do it.” Until this moment, I would have also assumed I’d chicken out, but the fact that no one has any faith in me—other than Eric Anderson, who seems to think I can manage it—gets under my skin. I’m sick of being the person everyone assumes I am.

“I’ve hired a coach,” I announce to the group.

“An acting coach?” Iris asks, sounding impressed .

“A confidence coach. He’s helping me come out of my shell. Both with this and...” I feel heat rise to my cheeks. “With Bryan.”

“You hired a dating coach?” Avah’s tone is incredulous.

“A life coach,” I correct. “I’m going to figure out this part of my life. That’s what the bucket list is about, right?”

“Exactly,” Sloane says through the computer screen. “I’m proud of you, Tay. It’s about time you put the past behind you. Just like,” she adds softly, “pretty soon I’m going to put cancer behind me.”

“Yes, you are,” I confirm. Once again, tears sting my eyes.

The other ladies crowd in on the camera, and we blow kisses and cry, and it’s almost like Sloane is back with us. I wonder if…

“Hey.” I hold up a hand. “Opening night is the second weekend of February, right before Valentine’s Day. Will you be back by then?”

“Lord, I hope so.” She sighs. “I’m not sure how much longer I can take this hospital room or my brother micromanaging me.”

“Then you’ll have a front-row seat to my debut.” I grin. “I promise I won’t puke on you.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Sloane tells me, then glances off-camera. “I’ve got to go, ladies. Love you all.”

“Love you!” we shout in unison.

Iris disconnects the call and silence descends over the small space.

“She’s going to beat it,” Sadie says when no one seems willing to be the first to speak.

“Of course,” I agree immediately.

“Hell, yeah,” Iris adds.

Avah points an elegant finger in my direction. “All the fuck-the-big-C vibes for Sloane, but be honest. Are you going to audition for real?”

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, feeling the weight of their eyes on me. “I...”

My voice cracks, so I clear my throat and try again. “That’s the plan, although I’m terrified I’ll screw it up. I don’t blame you guys for not believing in me. I don’t want to fail at something so simple when it means so much to Sloane.”

“We believe,” Iris interrupts, leaning forward. “And Sloane would kick your ass if she knew you were using her as an excuse.”

Sadie nods. “Remember when she dragged you up on stage for karaoke night last summer?”

A reluctant smile tugs at my lips. “I mangled the entire first verse of ‘Landslide’ until Iris joined in.”

“But you kept going,” Iris says softly. “By the end, you had everyone in tears.”

“Including Sloane,” Avah adds.

The memory washes over me. Sloane’s face in the dim light of Tony’s, tears streaming down her cheeks, her hands clapping wildly when I finished. How she’d hugged me afterward and whispered, “I knew you had it in you.”

“I can do this.” I look at each of my friends and see only unwavering support gazing back at me. “I’m going to do this.”

“Do the damn thing.” Iris pumps her fist in the air.

Sadie high-fives me. “To finally getting your ass back on stage.”

“And to Sloane,” I add, my voice steady now. There’s a resolve building inside me that feels foreign but also right. “She’s going to be sitting front row on opening night. I just know it.”

“To Sloane,” they echo.

As I hug my friends, I realize that Sloane’s bucket list challenge has taken on a deeper meaning for me. It’s about each of us rising to face whatever challenges come our way—together. And I’m not going to let any of us down.

I hope.