Page 13

The closer I get to the town square, the busier the streets become. Cars are parked along both sides of the road, and groups of people are all walking in the same direction, bundled up in warm coats and scarves. I slow down as a group crosses the street in front of me, then turn onto a side street where I usually park.

I find a spot between a pickup truck and an old station wagon and switch off the engine, then walk toward the festivities.

The town has gone all out this year. Orange lights hang between the buildings, pumpkins line the sidewalks, and someone has covered the lampposts in dried leaves and branches. Stalls with striped awnings fill the square. It feels like fall overload, but everyone here seems to love it.

I pass plenty of familiar faces as I make my way into the crowd. Someone calls my name, but I only lift a hand in greeting and keep walking. I’m here for one person, and that’s Romy.

I pass a stall selling hot cider and another covered in handmade candles. A fire burns in a large metal pit near the middle of the square, surrounded by wooden benches that are already full. The music gets louder as I get closer, and people are dancing in the open space in front of a small stage.

I keep moving, looking between people as I walk. I know exactly what she was wearing when she left the cottage, so she shouldn’t be too difficult to spot.

Five minutes later, I finally see her. She’s standing near a stall with a paper cup in her hands, talking to a woman I vaguely recognize. Her cheeks are pink from the cold, and she has the biggest smile on her face as she listens to whatever the woman is telling her.

For a few seconds, I just watch her and drink in her beauty. Then, she looks in my direction. Her eyes widen when she recognizes me, and her smile grows even bigger.

Damn, she’s gorgeous.

I shove my hands into my pockets and walk over to her.

“Otis? I thought you didn’t believe in celebrating fall?” she says with a smile.

“I changed my mind.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “You changed your mind?”

“People do that.”

“Sure they do. I just didn’t think you did,” she says, giving me a playful bump with her elbow. “I’m just kidding, Otis. I’m actually happy to see you.”

The woman beside her excuses herself to find her husband, then disappears into the crowd. Romy takes a sip, and I look around the square while I try to figure out why her telling me she’s happy to see me has me feeling like an idiot.

“So, what have you been doing today?” I ask.

“Lots of things. I went to the bookstore and met Gordy and Alice.”

“Really?”

She nods. “I did. He agreed to let me paint him. He’s going to call me so we can set a date. I asked a few other people too, and I got two more yeses.”

I smile. “Look at you. That’s great, Romy.”

“I know, right? I was so nervous about asking people, but everyone has been really nice so far.” She holds out her cup toward me. “Want some?”

“What is it?”

“Hot apple cider.”

“No, thanks.”

Romy laughs. “Of course not. That would be dangerously close to enjoying fall.”

“Exactly,” I say with a grin.

She takes another sip and starts walking, so I fall into step beside her. The crowd is getting thicker now that the sun is starting to set.

A kid with a pair of small horns runs straight across our path. I catch Romy around the waist before she can bump into him. “Careful.”

“Thanks.”