The Bookshop on the Corner (A Gingerbread Cafe story) by Rebecca Raisin

times the place makes me yearn for it, long after I’ve gone. Some towns can get under your skin…just like a great book, and I selfishly wanted to show you that. Open that part of living up to you so you’d think of me as someone who added another layer to your life, and so you wouldn’t think of me as a roving reporter, but as someone who searches the world to get to know myself better. Every time I go somewhere, I learn more about myself. The man I am, and the man I want to be. So, you see, locking eyes with the girl from The Bookshop on the Corner at the chocolate festival didn’t seem like such a random thing. It felt like coming home.”
    I picked up my champagne flute with shaky hands and held it out. Ridge clinked his glass against mine and said, “To finding what you’ve been searching for.”
    In that instant I decided to live in the moment. Whatever the future held, I’d take the risk and enjoy it right now.
    ***
    “Would you look at her?” CeeCee boomed. “All folded in on herself like she’s got a secret.” I was sleepy, and sitting on the couch at the Gingerbread Café, my legs tucked in front of me, and my arms wrapped around them.
    Missy giggled, and said, “I know you’re not one to kiss and tell but we beg you to make an exception, because, well, we need to know.”
    Lil wandered over with a tray of gingerbread milkshakes. She knew I loved them and drinking one would be akin to downing truth serum. “And,” Lil said, setting the tray on the coffee table, “Rosaleen’s already stopped in here today, saying she might have seen a thing or two as she walked by your front porch late Sunday evening.”
    “Glory be,” CeeCee said. “I don’t know how that woman does it. She has some kinda radar, or somethin’.”
    I groaned. If Rosaleen, the town gossip, knew about me and Ridge, then it wouldn’t be long before everyone knew. I thought back to Sunday evening, and saying goodbye to Ridge on the porch: he’d lingered, kissing me briefly in the moonlight. I colored, thinking of Rosaleen somewhere in the inky night stumbling on us.
    “So,” Lil prompted. “How did the weekend go with the sexy reporter?”
    I told the girls what had transpired.
    “I knew it! I knew that man were perfect for you,” CeeCee said. “When you gonna see him again?”
    I took a sip of the gingerbread milkshake and was momentarily lost for words. How on earth did they make a milkshake taste like comfort itself, like a warm hug on a cold day? “He’s going to Australia for two weeks, so some time after that. I really do like him,” I said. “And he’s so fervent about me — I guess I kept waiting for the punchline, like it’s some kind of joke. Honestly, girls, a man that gorgeous, well, I thought he’d be shallow, but we talked for hours, and hours, about so many things. I got swept up in the end. And I figure, this once, I will let go of the mind-bending fear of being heartbroken, and see what happens.”
    Missy sat quietly opposite me, shaking her head and crying softly.
    “Missy, what is it?” I asked.
    She waved a hand at us. “I’m just so happy. Proud like a momma, or something.” She plucked a tissue from a box. “You’re radiant, beautiful, Sarah. Love suits you. I know you’ve held out, only wanting the boy from the books, and now you’ve found him.” She broke into full-fledged sobs.
    I went to her and hugged her tight, trying to contain my laughter. “Thank you, Missy. I don’t know if I’d use the L word yet, but it has been nice.” I sat back on my haunches and studied her. It was the first time I’d ever seen Missy cry. “You sure you’re all right?”
    Dabbing at the smudged black mascara under her eyes, she said, “Don’t you worry about me. It’s those pregnancy hormones everyone goes on about.” She was laughing and crying in unison.
    “Cherry blossom, come here.” CeeCee hugged Missy, squashing her perfect mane of hair against her ample bosom as a grandmother would