Page 12 of The Love Bus

NAMES FOR FACES

A little more than an hour later, the bus dropped us off in the middle of downtown Estes Park, the main street lined with rustic storefronts and colorful window displays, advertising everything from rocks to toffee.

And again, I noticed that crisp mountain air.

Only, this time, along with the scent of pine, it carried something sweet—maybe caramel or fudge from one of the many candy shops.

A cluster of us drifted along the sidewalk, stretching our legs after the drive, and then gradually scattered into smaller groups.

Babs, naturally, seemed to know most of them already.

She’d proudly admitted to having made the rounds at the meet-and-greet the night before and seemed to believe it was her responsibility to introduce me to all of them as well.

I kept mostly silent, trying to focus on at least remembering their names.

“Ed and Eddie are honeymooning on this trip,” Babs said, nodding toward the couple ahead of us in matching T-shirts, walking hand in hand with a kind of practiced rhythm.

“Ed and Eddie?” I raised a brow.

“Ed’s the husband, and Eddie is short for Edwina,” she explained. “He’s mostly here for the slot machines in Vegas, if you ask me.”

Up ahead, Eddie gave Ed a playful swat on the arm—just hard enough to make a sound. He let out a low chuckle and nudged her with his shoulder. She huffed and kept walking, but their hands stayed linked, swinging between them.

Not exactly swoony, but…kind of adorable in its own way.

A few steps beyond the Eds, were Noah Grady and his mother—not entirely separate, but keeping an intentional distance.

Mrs. Grady led the way from shop to shop, scanning displays somewhat critically, while her son trailed behind without complaint.

He wasn’t particularly animated, but I wouldn’t say he looked bored. Patient, maybe. Distant.

I half-expected him to check his phone or rush her along, but he didn’t. And I didn’t know why, but that surprised me.

Coming up from behind us, a new voice broke through the hum of conversation—another member of the bus tour.

“Well, this is ridiculous,” the woman huffed, frowning down at her phone like it had personally offended her. “It says I’m in the middle of the river.”

Her companion peered over her shoulder and squinted at the screen. “Josie, that’s a weather app.”

“Then what’s this brown dot?”

The taller woman squinted at the phone. “That’s from when you spilled your coffee.”

Babs chuckled and turned us both around, bringing everyone following to a halt.

“It’s time I introduced you properly, Luna Girl.

These two are Marla McFee and Josie Baxter—sisters.

They leave their husbands at home whenever they travel.

” Marla was tall and sturdy-looking, her silver hair cropped close to her head.

Josie, shorter and a little plump, had twinkling eyes.

She wore her hair slightly longer, letting it bounce around her shoulders.

Josie sighed, fishing around in her massive tote bag and smiling when she pulled out a wadded-up tissue. “I swear, technology gets harder to use every year.”

“How many pictures have you taken of the inside of your purse so far?” Marla adjusted her visor and patted her fanny pack. “I keep mine safe and sound.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You accepted my friend invitation on the Facebook, didn’t you, Denise?”

At the mention of her name, another woman from the bus—nearly as tall as Marla but wearing a travel vest instead of the fanny pack—held up her own phone and began slowly pecking at the screen with a single finger.

“I think so, Marla,” she said in a tone that suggested she wasn’t sure at all.

Next to her, a petite woman with silver-white waves and oversized beaded earrings let out a small sigh and took the phone from Denise’s hands. “You need to press this blue button to open up the Facebook, Denny luv.”

“I just want to send my niece that picture.”

“Well, what you’re doing is going to share it with everyone. Again.”

But holding this technology workshop in the middle of the sidewalk, we were creating something of a bottleneck. “Should we…?” I tugged on Babs to get us moving again, not that she appeared to notice.

“You’d think Denise and Patty were sisters, too.” Babs leaned in, laughing in a conspiratorial way, but speaking loudly enough for everyone around us to hear.

“Ha! Sisters! That’s what everybody says,” Denise declared.

“We’re just two spinsters, living together, sharing romantic dinners…” Patty added. “Going on thirty years now.”

Just then, a loud click sounded from behind us.

I turned to see one of the men from the bus—mostly bald, a little hunched, in a windbreaker and cargo pants—lowering a 35mm film camera from his face.

“Gotta capture the moment,” he said cheerfully, flipping the camera, and was he…winding film?

Babs had introduced him and his wife as well. Helen and…

“Roger refuses to get a smartphone.” Helen shook her head as she followed her husband over. “Insists on toting Minny along every time we go on vacation.”

“Minny?” My head was kind of spinning.

“My Minolta SRT,” Roger said, undeterred. “This baby takes real photos.”

“You mean the kind you have to wait a week to see?” his wife teased.

Roger sniffed. “Nothing wrong with a little anticipation.”

Josie held up her phone. “I can take a photo right now and post it instantly.”

Which, I realized a second later, she did.

“There,” she said proudly, slipping the phone back into her bag.

Marla leaned over. “Josie, I think you just went live.”

Josie gasped and fumbled to grab her phone again while the rest of them dissolved into laughter.

And just like that, I started to understand something about this group.

They weren’t just bad with technology. They were dangerous with it.

Chuckling to myself, I ducked into a little shop that smelled like cedar and sage. My fingers skimmed a shelf of hand-painted pottery, and one piece caught my eye: a squat, slightly lopsided planter with a sun on one side and a moon on the other.

I reached for it. Then stopped.

What would be the point? All my plants were long dead now.

“You don’t like it?”

I startled, spinning around to find Noah behind me. Not that I hadn’t noticed him orbiting, I just hadn’t realized he’d entered my gravitational field.

The woman at the counter was watching us… Strike that. She was watching him.

I couldn’t blame her.

His head was tilted, causing that wayward strand of hair to curl around his cheek. Even with his mostly neutral expression—low-key irritated—it was hard not to give into the urge to brush it back.

“I do, actually…but…”

He stood there, one hand in his pocket, the other one holding three of his mom’s shopping bags.

At least I assumed they were his mom’s.

“They could wrap it,” he offered. “If you’re afraid it will break.”

“I realize that.”

I didn’t want to tell him the reason I wasn’t buying it. Did I like it? Yes! I loved it. But I wasn’t sure I could give it a proper home…

So I just shrugged. “We have a long way to go. I’d better pace myself.”

“What are you two scheming over here?” Babs popped up from behind a display, her eyes bouncing between us from behind those scarlet-rimmed glasses.

“Our escape,” Noah replied dryly, answering for both of us.

“Oh, you!” Babs gave his chest a playful slap. “You love hanging out with us beauties. Just admit it.”

“You got me,” he said, stepping away with that annoyingly smooth ease—his eyes unexpectedly lit with mischief.

Hot Annoying Aisle Seat Guy, it would seem, had a sense of humor.

Which was…inconvenient.

Especially when it made me like him a little.

I spent the rest of the afternoon trying not to think about that.

By the time the bus delivered us to our hotel, the sky had turned a moody shade of blue-gray, and without the sun burning down on us, it was cold!

Tay greeted us in the lobby with a clipboard and a smile, informing us that our luggage would be delivered to our rooms while we enjoyed a group dinner. And then she directed us toward the hotel’s banquet room.

Tucked off the main dining area, in what felt like a newly renovated wedding venue, four massive round tables, each seating ten, had been arranged for our group. Pristine white tablecloths and floral centerpieces added a touch of formality to the otherwise cozy setting.

I wasn’t sure if it was chance or Babs’s doing, but somehow, I ended up seated next to Noah. Again.

If I’d still believed in romance, I might’ve called it fate.

Since I didn’t, I shot Babs a look across the table—one eyebrow raised.

She just smiled innocently, unfolding her napkin with the kind of exaggerated care that made it clear she was definitely not innocent.

Across the table, Ed and Eddie were in deep conversation with Roger and Helen, discussing stories they’d heard about our hotel. Josie was playing with her phone when her sister shot her an admonishing stare.

“Are you livestreaming again? Tell me you’re not livestreaming…”

“Nope. I don’t think so.” But her confused frown made me not so sure.

Meanwhile, Patty and Denise were already sipping their wine, peppering Mrs. Grady with questions about real estate. Apparently, Noah’s mother was an agent.

And the doctor himself?

Like me, he was simply watching it all play out. And yeah, I was feeling a little better about this trip, but I still felt pretty out of place.

I resisted the urge to sigh.

“I think I’m in at least two of Josie’s Facebook Lives.” He’d leaned closer, his arm accidentally brushing mine.

“Oh, I know I am,” I replied. “We’re Facebook besties now.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “I haven’t been on Facebook in years. Now I’ve got about twenty new friends. Not something I had on my bingo card this year.”

Which somewhat begged the question: what did he have on his bingo card? I slid him a sideways glance just as the waiter appeared, setting salads in front of us.

“Oh, yeah. Josie wants to tag everyone,” I said.