Page 8 of To Fall or Not to Fall
Chapter Five
A va
“Wow. I can’t believe so many people came tonight,” Arabella says as she gazes around the store.
“There are at least ten guys and fifteen women here.” She’s still in her work uniform, and I’m grateful that she’s such a good friend that she rushed here from work to help out. “I hope that more men show up.”
“I know, me too,” I say, grinning, though I am overwhelmed at the response. “Two people have already submitted letters to the mailbox, so there are crushes going on in this town, as well.”
“I wonder if anyone has a crush on me,” Aria says, looking hopeful. “I mean, I doubt it, but it would be really cool if they did. Super dreamy.”
“Yeah, I agree with you.” I avoid Billy’s stare. I hope he doesn’t try to make a play for me.
The bell over the door dings, and I look over to see Rupert walking through the entrance. The slightly older gentleman gives me a quick wave and then heads toward the front of the store. I keep a straight face, but I’m not sure I’m happy he’s here.
“Hi. Welcome to Beachy Balls, Biscuits, it’s Theo.”
“True. But you should just call him Oscar Wilder and pretend he’s the reincarnation of a great writer.”
“I’m not going to call him Oscar Wilder if he goes by Theo.”
“Still, it’d be kind of cool. Like, imagine saying, ‘I’m dating Oscar Wilde,’ and people would be like, what? He came back from the dead?”
I just stare at her, and she bursts out laughing.
“Sorry. I may or may not have had a couple of shots of tequila before I came tonight.”
“Aria! What? Why?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Well, I do. I was writing, the pages sucked, and I was frustrated and depressed. I ripped them up, and I didn’t want to show up here looking all gloomy. So, tequila came to the rescue.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No. Are you going to fire me for drinking before work?”
“You’re fine. This is an after-hours event. I bet your pages didn’t suck.”
“For the record, my pages really did suck, but this won’t happen again.”
“Even if they did, I’d still put your book in my store. I’ll always support you.”
“You’re the best best friend.”
“I know. I try.” I grin at her. “Shall we turn some music on?”
“‘Monster Mash’”
“It’s not Halloween.”
“Yeah, but everyone loves it.”
“Fine.” I grab my phone, start my fall-slash-Halloween playlist, and connect to the speaker. I keep the volume low, but soon, a couple of girls start dancing along.
“See?” Aria beams. “Told you. Everyone loves this song. Tonight is going to be a smash. Also, looks like Arabella is selling those tickets.” She is right. It is going well. But I don’t know if it is going well enough.
I think about my bills.
$500 for electricity.
$200 for water and sewage.
$400 for insurance.
$3500 mortgage payment with $550,000 still owed.
I don’t even want to think about all the other bills.
Nor the fact that the store made $2500 the previous month, and Aria received a salary of $3600. My savings are almost depleted.
My grandparents live on social security and a small pension.
My parents still work here in town and don’t have anything to contribute.
I have two to three months to turn things around, or I will lose this place.
I take a huge gulp. I cannot let myself think about the worst-case scenario.
I take a moment to absorb the scene. My store is packed.
The candles glow softly, casting a romantic vibe across the room, the pumpkin lights sparkle above the door like glittering stars, and outside the windows, fall foliage glimmers orange and gold under the streetlamps.
An older couple strolls past at that very moment, holding hands, and my heart soars.
I love it here in Coconut Beach. It feels like living in a perfect, made-up town, but it’s real, and it’s mine.
And I don’t want to lose my place in this story.
But if the store fails, what else can I do?
The library isn’t hiring, Edith Jenkins won’t retire for years, and I can’t afford to volunteer there.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” Aria whispers, suddenly at my side.
“What?” I blink at her.
“You looked sad. Spaced out. I know what you were thinking.” She rubs my shoulder. “It’s okay.”
“I hope so. I just feel like my life isn’t going the way it should. I’m about to lose the store. I don’t have a boyfriend, a fiancé, or even a fling?—”
“Stop.” Aria shakes her head. “You have Popsicle. You have me and Arabella. You have your grandma, your parents, and this store. Look around. This place is full of people, ready to pay to find love. And remember: it’s fall. Magic is in the air.”
Arabella returns from the storage room, her arms filled with pumpkins. “What are we talking about?”
“Being single,” I admit, not wanting to talk about my business woes anymore.
Arabella groans. “Don’t remind me. I don’t understand it. We’re the prettiest girls in Coconut Beach, yet none of us has a boyfriend.”
“They must be blind,” Aria mutters.
“Well, we’re about to change that,” I say, laughing. “We’re matchmakers extraordinaire.”