Page 11

11

FAITH

“I t’s been an absolute blast having you guys here!” I exclaim to my crew later that week, sliding them their heavily discounted check.

The couples—Maya and Grant, Alex and DJ. Then there’s April, along with Chris and Finn, our other guy friends.

They’d graced us with their presence for several days, and we filled our time with everything from four-wheeling the back roads, to laughing around bonfires, to sampling the local dive bar scene.

But without a doubt, Mont du Marquette was the pinnacle.

After waving goodbye, I glance at my payout for the night—and my heart sinks.

My generous friends left me a hundred-dollar tip. The rest of the evening’s tips bring me to a grand total of… one hundred twenty-two dollars.

Yeesh.

I sigh. This isn’t going to fund my senior year of college partying.

Actually, forget partying. This isn’t even going to cover my train ticket back to Greene State.

Time for a new plan.

After my shift, I decide it’s time to pitch my daddy on the idea of working at Holloway’s Hideout.

But I can’t just tell him I think I’d have more fun—and make more money—working there.

No, I need a strategy. A smarter angle.

“I’d be like a double agent,” I say, trying to sound casual as I wipe down the bar. “If I worked at Holloway’s Hideout, I could find out the tricks they’re using to get people in the door.”

Daddy frowns. “I don’t know, Faith. I thought that was a one-time thing, you going over there.”

I don’t mention that my friends and I went back three more times this week.

And had a ridiculous amount of fun every single night.

“Daddy…” I glance around the restaurant. It’s quiet. Too quiet for a Wednesday, which used to be one of our better nights. “Please? I love working here. You know that. But do you even need me right now? This way, the other servers can make more money with bigger sections, and I can get experience elsewhere. And once we do the expansion, I’ll be better for it.”

He looks down at my hands.

I’m twisting my engagement ring again. I’ve stopped sleeping in it.

A conversation with my parents is coming. Just… not yet.

One thing at a time.

“Faith…” Daddy trails off, his gaze drifting to the window as a couple nears the front door.

He perks up, hopeful.

They walk right past.

He sighs.

“Do you really want to do this?”

I nod. “Yes, Daddy. I do.”

He studies me for a beat. Then smiles gently. “Well… if you believe it’s the right thing, then do it. Never let anyone say your daddy didn’t love you enough to let you go.”

I rush forward and wrap my arms around him in a tight hug.

“There’s one more thing,” I say softly. My pulse kicks up.

I’m about to tell him Keith and I are… done. That he shouldn’t count on me marrying into a property deal.

But before I can speak?—

“Oh, look who’s here!” Daddy calls out over my shoulder. “It’s Mr. and Mrs. Stinson!”

Goosebumps prickle down my spine.

I turn and plaster on a smile.

“Well, hello, young lady,” Mrs. Stinson greets me, kissing my cheek. “How are you? And how have Keith’s updates from DC been? Sounds like he’s doing quite well. I’m sure he’s told you different things than he’s told us.”

I clench my jaw, willing my face not to crack.

Keith hasn’t told me a damn thing . Ten days. Not a peep. I called. Texted. Nothing.

And clearly, he didn’t even have the balls to tell his parents we’re “on a break.”

I guess I’ll just play along. Not my circus.

“He’s fine,” I say quietly. “Loving DC. Busy, though.”

“Good. We’re just so excited for the wedding next summer. I won’t even tell you what the down payment was on the venue.” She laughs like it’s charming. I flinch.

Normally the bride’s family pays for the wedding, but of course the Stinsons insisted. They always insist.

“Well, let’s sit. We’ll eat!”

As we settle into the booth, I feel something tight coil in my chest. The guilt is sharp and cold.

This conversation is a lie.

The ring on my finger is a lie.

I’m sitting here like I’m still the future Mrs. Keith Stinson.

But I’m not.

And I’m starting to think I never will be.

That same evening, I bring my application over to Holloway’s Hideout.

Daphne grins the second she sees me. “Oh, honey. I’m so happy!” She pulls me into a hug that smells like hairspray and vanilla. “I think you’re gonna do wonderful here.”

“So… I’m hired?”

She pulls back and winks. “Oh, you bet your sweet tea-stained church dress you are! When can you start?”

* * *

No word from “Thor” all week. And I’m not about to act desperate.

Besides, I’ve got mixed feelings about the whole getting a guy’s number from a sex club thing, plus I’ve been busy with job training, which starts next Monday.

It’s brutally hot outside, so I decide it’s a good day to do some summer cleaning in the attic.

While I’m at it, I slip my engagement ring off and let the sun shine through it.

I’m the last real hope of the family to carry on our line. Aunt Miranda’s only son, Ryan, is fourteen and already rebellious. He’s said flat-out that the family business is “stupid” and wants nothing to do with it.

Meanwhile, Keith can’t even answer a damn text. Typical. He never talks about business, never asks about mine. He’s never once asked what I actually want to do with my journalism degree.

He just assumes I’m going to be a housewife.

Family matters to me. But I don’t want it forced down my throat.

I want a say.

I want a voice.

I pull down a small box labeled high school stuff and crack it open. Inside, I find my old stash of romance novels—a fantasy series built around Greek mythology… and yeah, they’re kind of spicy.

I grab one at random, flip to a dog-eared page, and my gut drops—in that weird, synchronistic way—when I see the name of the male protagonist: Thor.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumble.

Right then, my phone buzzes.

A voice message from Thor.

Not a text.

My heart slams in my chest. I press play without hesitation.

“Hey there, Luna. Sorry I didn’t get back to you. Been an insane week. I’ve been thinking about last Saturday. A lot. You just seem like someone I need to get to know better.”

He pauses. There’s a low, guttural sound, almost like a growl. A bolt of heat shoots through me.

“I’ve been staring at that picture all week—your wrists tied like that. Hottie.”

The hair on the back of my neck stands up.

Still not ready to expose my voice—feels too vulnerable, too real —I type out a message instead.

Luna: And I want to get to know the man behind the mask. With the sexy voice.

Thor: Happy to hear you think my voice is sexy.

Luna: It sounds so familiar. Are you from Vansborough? And were you really at Holloway’s Hideout the other day?

Three dots appear. They spin for a long time before the response finally comes.

Thor: I’m… kind of from all over. I was just passing through and happened to be at that restaurant you were at. Guess you didn’t see me.

Luna: Why didn’t you come say hi?

Thor: Figured it might be better to get to know each other a little more first.

Luna: Not a bad idea. So… are you a traveling man?

Thor: Sort of.

Luna: Well aren’t you mysterious with your short answers. Tell me something unique about yourself.

Thor: First, answer my question.

Luna: Cheeky. What question?

Thor: This one. If you could choose a musical instrument, which would it be: trumpet, flute, violin, or oboe?

Luna: Violin, probably.

Thor: Ha! I knew it.

Luna: What does that mean?

Thor: It means… you like to be played like an instrument. You’re a pleaser.

It’s silly, honestly. I got it from a Cosmo quiz.

Luna: If it’s from Cosmo, then obviously it’s 100% true science.

Thor: Obviously. So what’s your plan, like in life? What’s your dream--if you could live your wildest dream, what would it be?

I have to set down the phone for a moment.

It’s absolutely incredible, but I realize that no one has asked me that…maybe ever?

I think back to college at Greene State.

Sure, some of my girlfriends asked me what I wanted to study. But no one had asked me about my own dreams. Ever, that I can remember. I have to think for a moment about what I might actually want. Thor’s comment forces me to reflect.

Then, I see an old stack of notebooks in the attic from when I was a little girl. I didn’t have any siblings, so I would keep busy up here.

I open one of the spiral notebooks and smile.

It’s a page of the “Easton Times,” the newspaper I used to create and give to my parents when I was a little girl.

I open the first page, and it’s got everything. A hot gossip column. Neighborhood news section. The sports section.

All articles written in messy seven year old pencil writing, by myself.

And then, there’s my favorite section--the Sunday comics.

It’s rudimentary, but I’ve got the three box structure down.

I collapse back on the bed upstairs in the attic.

Luna: This is kind of nerdy of me. I’m wrapping up my journalism degree this year, but I think in my heart I always wanted to be a comic book writer.

Thor: That’s so cool

I think about the whole housewife thing. And I have to add something.

Luna: And, yes, I do want to have a big family. Like…four kids? lol. I think being an only child I always envied the bigger families. But I don’t know if that’s for me. We’ll see. Great question, though. You’ve got me thinking.

I watch as the three dots appear…then disappear a few times.

Thor: Damn. You just got about ten times hotter, Luna. I mean I like that curvy body of yours but…damn. Question. Have you ever read the book, The Alchemist?

Luna: Never, why?

Thor: It’s all about following your dreams, really. I think you might enjoy it.

Luna: If this town had a bookstore, I’d buy it

Thor: Ever heard of Amazon…?

Luna: You’re so funny! I prefer to buy them from bookstores. Glad to know you have no problem selling your soul to large corporations.

Thor: Okay, point taken. You’re an old soul. I respect that. So what about music? Who do you listen to?

Luna: I’ve been digging the new Zach Bryan

Thor: God Yeah. Favorite song off the new album?

Luna: The sunflower song

Thor: I think you mean Sun to Me. But I like your name for it. :)

For goodness sake. He’s a ZB fan, too?

My body tingles with desire for this man. This mysterious voice. I’m overcome with the urge to see what he really looks like.

Luna: This is completely unfair. You literally saw me in person on Sunday at Holloway’s and didn’t show your face. I’m not just hair to you anymore…you know what I look like. I sent you a pic. I’d like to see you.

Thor: You didn’t show me your face, though. Just your hair and your wrists.

Luna: Yeah but you happened to be at the same restaurant as me.

Thor: Really. You want a pic? I really don’t send them.

Luna: Me neither. But I sent one to you.

Thor: You’re begging?

I giggle. Biting my lower lip, I text him.

Luna: Oh I’m begging. I’m on me knees. Please :P

Thor: lol. Well fine. How’s this?

He sends me a picture of himself…from the neck down.

He’s wearing gray briefs, but I’ll be honest—not much is left to the imagination.

My jaw drops.

You could wash clothes over those abs. And his hip lines are the kind that make even a good woman do very silly things.

And then…there’s the shadowed outline of his dick in his gray briefs.

My stomach actually churns at the size of the thing.

Luna: Still no face?

Thor: You’re greedy, aren’t you?

Luna: Perhaps, a bit impatient. I just want to see you. I want to know that what I felt at the club was real.

Thor: Me too. I want to see you again. Take you out on a proper date. Or maybe just take you back to the club…and…

Luna: And what?

Thor: I’d tell you. But I don’t want to move too fast. I’d rather take my time with you and not tell you all of the things I’d want to do with you, after the appropriate amount of old fashioned courting, of course.

Luna: I’m glad you’re the old fashioned type

Thor: Pretty sure spankings were an old fashioned thing.

Luna: lol I’m dying here

Thor: I mean, once I have you, though…you’re mine. So I definitely shouldn’t tell you what I’ve been thinking about.

Luna: No, you shouldn’t.

Thor: Unless you really want to know. Because I could tell you what I’ve thought about doing to your beautiful body all week. But, you know, old fashioned courting.

Luna: Old fashioned courting. From the guy I met at the sex club.

My heart slams against my chest.The three dots move, then disappear, then move again.

Thor: So what do you like to do…when you’re not visiting Saturday clubs?

Luna: Honestly, I read, I work, and I garden. I’m a simple girl.

Thor: Where do you garden?

His next question is about books again. Then more music. Then travel. And somehow we end up talking about childhood dreams, worst dates, and favorite sandwiches.

We chat like that for hours.

By the end of it, I realize I haven’t thought about Keith all afternoon.

And I’m not sure if I should be proud of that, or ashamed.

Silly religious upbringing.