I go with my father, and I’ve grown accustomed to it, yet tired of it. When I’m out by myself, I get to just be Lily, the friendly librarian. That makes me sound like Spider-Man or something, but I can just be myself. I can chat about their families, or the latest restaurant I tried in Lancaster, or the movie I caught at the Cineplex.
When I’m with Senator Eric Grantham, I’m just a pretty face. Smile, nod, look up adoringly at whatever boring topic he’s blabbering on and on about.
These are the times I wish I was holed up in the library, back in the shelves, organizing books and combing through old favorites. When I was there, I felt at home. Everything had a place; each story had its appropriate ending. Books were never jumbled or lost or confusing … like the loop of thoughts playing in my head endlessly.
Books brought you to a place that helped your mind escape all the troubles reality put there.
“Lily?”
When I look up, Dad is staring expectantly at me. “Hmm?”
“Were you listening to me?”
I nod, a white lie spilling out of my mouth. “Of course.”
He eyes me like he knows I’m not telling the truth. “I said I made the rounds. I don’t have a speech or anything tonight, and your mother is at home waiting. I’m going to go, have a big meeting tomorrow. See you in the morning?” Dad leaned over and pressed a kiss to my hair.
Despite my annoyances with him, he’s always been a good dad. Provided for me, raised me to do the right thing, and was there for all of my big moments. He might be strict, but he means well. And we might have differing political opinions—but if I told him that the world might end, so it’s something I’ve kept to myself for nine years, since I was old enough to vote.
There are some battles that just aren’t worth the trouble.
“Sounds great. I’m just going to say goodbye to Presley at her tent, and I’ll walk back to my house.”
“Be careful, okay? Text us when you get in.” His voice is full of lecture.
“Yes, I will.” I try not to roll my eyes as he leaves me in the middle of the fairway.
I’m twenty-seven years old, live in a town with five stop lights, and my parents still insist I text them when I get home to a house I bought myself. Kid gloves don’t even come close to what I’m handled with.
Making sure to take the long way around, to avoid the tent where the Nash brothers and their mother, Eliza, were making caramel corn, I headed for Presley’s tent.
Her yoga studio had opened just three days after the proposal at the party for friends and family, and I’d already been to two classes. Naturally, they were just as great as her classes in the park, and the space looked amazing with all its namaste vibes and natural light.
She’d been nervous to set up her own booth advertising the studio at the Summer Kickoff Carnival, but Penelope and I had convinced her it would be amazing for business.
And as I come upon the tent, I find that my best friend and I weren’t wrong. Penelope had been right that people would flock to Presley’s booth if they knew she was giving out free water bottles and a coupon to attend one free class. There were people flocking to my redheaded friend as she buzzed about the tent talking about yoga, health, and the need to stretch away your stress.
I smiled, waving to her as she talked, and she motioned me over. With a tilt of my head, I tried to relay that I didn’t want to interrupt and I’d see her tomorrow.
Penelope was home with her three kids, and how she managed all those boys at once was beyond me. She was a warrior … and one of the strongest, smartest people I’d ever known. Even if she tried to downplay that with her chatty blond routine.
So with both of my friends occupied, it really was time for me to head home.
The people of Fawn Hill, these people I’ve known all my life, smile and wave as I pass. And I suddenly feel very alone in a sea of humans who know me and my life more than anyone should know any one person. It’s been put on display for them, I’ve been the topic of gossip for a decade now.
Yes, they mean well most