Meeting Miss Mystic by Katy Regnery Page A

four times a day and Rob’s telling me I’m beautiful. And you listen to me, Zo, ‘cause it sounds like my voice, but it’s your mom talking. You gotta go to Montana.”
    Zoë swallowed uncomfortably, hating the fact that there was a teeny, tiny part of her that loved Sandy’s suggestion, that embraced it, that had already decided then and there—without asking Stan for a week off, or buying a ticket, or figuring out how the heck to tell Paul what she needed to say—that she was headed to Montana.
    “But, how I look…”
    “Just be yourself,” said Sandy, reaching over to hold Zoë’s hand. “From what it sounds like, he’s already in love with you.”
    “You’re a better aunt than I ever was,” Zoë whispered, tears springing into her eyes.
    “That’s not true. You love Brandon. You’ll all find your way back together again one day. I know it. And little Carly here knows it too.” Sandy rubbed her stomach lovingly then stood up, her palms braced on the table. “Speaking of little Carly, I’m gonna go throw up. Then you’re gonna to buy a ticket to Montana and then we’re heading to the mall to get you a few new things for your trip before I go in to work.”
    ***
    Holly hadn’t written her Good Morning e-mail and by noon Paul’s heart ached from missing it.
    He started to wonder if he’d made a massive mistake in telling Holly he was coming to visit. But he kept circling back to the same thought: he was ready to meet her and his feelings weren’t just going to go away. He’d been straight with her from the beginning about not wanting to be pen pals. About wanting to know her on a special level. She hadn’t shut things down and had always seemed as into him as he was into her. He was taking Maggie’s advice and giving Holly a little time and he just hoped that she would come around, see things as he did, and trust him to come and visit her.
    Another thought suddenly occurred to him and it broadsided him, making him feel panicky. What if he had pushed her too far? She lived in Connecticut. It wasn’t like he could stop by her house after school and put things right. If she chose, she never had to write to him again. She could change her cell phone number and never look back. And he’d have all his life to regret pushing her when she wasn’t ready to see him yet. The thought made a cold chill run down his spine. He hated feeling regret. He hated feeling helpless. Today was not getting better.
    He could smell barbecue grills heating up all over town as he sat on his back swing next to Cleo, forcing himself not to text her or e-mail her or call her. Some Labor Day for him. He’d been invited to many barbecues, but he didn’t have the heart to go. Later, he’d check out the fireworks in the park, but mostly just to be sure no high school kids were hiding out behind the school getting drunk and/or pregnant. The afternoon stretched before him open and endless, his thoughts besieging him no matter how hard he tried to keep them at bay.
    “What do you think?” he asked Cleo, who looked up at him and wagged her tail expectantly. “You think I should go to one of those barbecues?”
    She stared at him then cocked her little head to the side, as though trying to understand.
    “Nah. I’m no good today.”
    “When’re you ever any good?”
    He looked up, surprised to hear Lars’s voice, and watched his best friend make his way around the porch and up the stairs.
    “Hey, Lars.”
    “Paul. Cleo.”
    Lars pulled up a chair and put his booted feet up on the white porch railing.
    “Don’t you have about a hundred parents who want to make you a hot dog today?” Lars asked with an easy grin.
    Paul shrugged. “Not in the mood.”
    “Since when?”
    “Huh?”
    “Man, you’re acting weird lately. Movies in the afternoon and missing barbecues. Since when are you not in the mood to go hang out with your students and their families?”
    “I’m just not. Can you leave it alone?”
    “Sure.”