Dreaming of His Pen Pal's Kiss - Jessie Gussman Page 0,32

people say unkind things about others just because they live in a small town. You know it.”

Burgundy nodded, grinning. “I keep giving you a hard time, but I know exactly what you’re saying. People can deny it all they want to, but we all have things we kind of think, just because of our experiences. I think maybe even a hundred years ago, that was considered normal, and now we’re made to feel guilty about it.”

“Well, we should to some extent, since a lot of times the things we think are negative.”

“I know. I’ve actually experienced those to some extent.”

Burgundy’s voice kind of trailed off at the end, and Journee put an arm around her, squeezing her, as they walked down Main Street, looking at the different vendors and listening to the Christmas music that was piped out of strategically placed speakers.

Strategically placed, because the entire town could hear the music.

“I’m sorry.”

Burgundy shrugged. “Don’t be. To some extent, stereotypes are stereotypes because they’re true. They help us relate to the world around us. I suppose there’s a lot more psychology involved, but I wouldn’t knock yourself out too hard about it, because everybody does it.”

“Well, regardless, I think the one about Dante was completely untrue. He turned out to be a really nice guy, and yeah, it surprised me. But yeah. I had a good time with him.”

Journee thought for a minute or two about the letters she’d written to Computer Geek.

She hadn’t mentioned what she’d done at the festival, exactly. She’d just given an overview.

And she hadn’t talked about Dante at all. She wasn’t sure why.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to examine her motives too closely, because she didn’t really feel either man was a romantic prospect, exactly. But especially not Dante.

Still, she supposed the fact that she didn’t give specifics in her letter probably said something that she wasn’t ready to think about.

“Are you seeing him again today? You guys meeting somewhere?” Burgundy bumped Journee’s shoulder with hers, then wiggled her eyebrows.

“You’re a good one to talk. Where’s Crew?” Journee asked, referring to Burgundy’s new husband.

“He promised Mrs. Scholz he’d be in the dancing contest with her.”

Journee stopped short, her mouth half open. Neither Mrs. Scholz nor Crew seemed like the dancing kind of people.

Finally, she managed to get one word out. “Oh?”

“I know. It’s nuts.” Burgundy giggled. “You should see them at home.”

Journee tried to picture Crew, who always seemed kind of taciturn and slightly intimidating, and Mrs. Scholz, who was a crusty old lady and did not seem like a dancer.

“The odd couple. That would almost make the dancing contest worth watching.”

“Definitely. Especially if they play ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree’ for them, which I specifically requested. It’s Mrs. Scholz’s favorite song, and I know Crew is my husband, but he is absolutely adorable when he’s dancing with Mrs. Scholz.” Burgundy’s voice lowered a little, and her love for her husband was absolutely clear in her words.

Journee smiled, an odd feeling pinching her throat. Not jealousy. She was happy for her friend, but she’d love to be able to talk about somebody like that. With a lot of dreamy sweetness in her voice.

But she wasn’t sure she wanted to risk so much again. There was a lot of pain involved when it didn’t work out.

“When does it start?” Journee figured she’d enjoy watching it, but she didn’t want to be late for the Not Such an Ironman Ironman Competition.

“We have about thirty minutes. I figured if I moseyed on down there, I’d get there in time to see the beginning. If Mrs. Scholz doesn’t win, she’s gonna want me to give her a critique of all of the other contestants, since she’ll be waiting in the back.” Burgundy crossed her arms over her chest and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, eyeing Journee. “Now, you didn’t answer my question.”

Journee laughed. “I forgot your question. The idea of Crew and Mrs. Scholz dancing together pretty much threw everything else out of my head.”

“Dante? Hello? You guys look good together. And happy.”

“We’re happy. We’re friends. But that’s it. Friends. Nothing more.”

“Hmm. Okay. My question was are you going to see him again?”

“We’re in the Not Such an Ironman Ironman Contest together. I think Dad signed us up.” Journee said that last sentence casually, and she wasn’t quite sure why she added it.

Burgundy was already doing a lot of hinting around, and her dad kind of had a reputation in town for being a bit of a matchmaker.

Burgundy