What I Should’ve Said

Chapter 32



Saturday, August 28th

Norah

“Norah…”

“Norah!”

“What the—?” I open my eyes to find my sister hovering over my bed, her bright-green gaze meeting my sleepy one as she uses two hands to shake the ever-loving shit out of my shoulders. It only takes a few beats for the slightest sense of panic to seize my chest. “Is everything okay? Oh my God, is Sum—”

“Everything and everyone are fine,” she cuts me off before adrenaline has the chance to kick in. “But you’re going to have to move your ass, or else we’re going to be late.”

“What are you talking about?” I groan and rub at my eyes. When my vision un-fogs and I can make out the window, I see the morning light coming in through the dusty blinds looks terribly early for my taste. Like the sun is also just waking up from her slumber. “What time is it?”

“A little after seven.”

“Seven?” I nearly shout. “I thought you said the coffee shop was closed today.”

“It is, but it’s the first day of the Fall Farmers Market.” She says the words like they actually make sense. Like a farmers market is a good reason for this horrendously early wake-up call.

“Fall?” I question as I sit up and grab my phone from the nightstand. “It’s August, Jose.”

I tap the screen and find three missed message notifications from Summer. I’m already smiling as I read the first message that reads, we shud get pink purses.

After we left the hospital Tuesday, during the drive home, Summer mentioned that she’s always wanted to have her own iPhone with a glittery pink case. Bennett reminded her that she had an iPad—with a glittery pink case—because it’s easier for her to use, but she wasn’t having it.

“Everyone has an iPhone,” she said. “It’s way cooler than an iPad because it fits in your pocket.”

It shouldn’t be a surprise that once we got her settled at the house, Bennett handed me his credit card, and I was more than happy to run up to the only cell phone store in Red Bridge to make her iPhone—and glittery pink case—wish come true.

Ever since then, whenever I’m not with her and Bennett, she’s been sending me messages.

“Hello? Earth to Norah? Did you hear anything I just said?”

I look up to find Josie staring at me and realize I, in fact, haven’t heard a thing she said. “Mind running that last thing by me again?”

She huffs out a bothered breath. “I said, Red Bridge always starts their fall market the last Saturday in August.”

It takes my brain a hot second to recall what we were even talking about, but it only takes one yawn from my lips to remember.

“That still doesn’t explain why I’m getting woken up at seven in the morning on a day I was going to try to sleep in,” I say, but it’s to her back as she walks out of my bedroom and down the hall. What the hell? “Where are you going?” I call toward her just as my ears register that her phone is ringing from somewhere in the front of the house.

“Be right back!”

Truthfully, she can take all the time she needs. My tired ass is more than happy to go back to bed for another hour or two.

Since leaving the hospital Tuesday, besides sleeping in my bed at night, I’ve spent all my time with Bennett and Summer. And boy, have we been busy. Busy taking Summer to see practically everywhere and everyone in town, and busy soaking her in.

Wednesday, we went to Earl’s for Danimals, but this time, Summer got to come. Bennett rolled his eyes at me—but smiled too—when I had a moment of nostalgia in front of both the milk refrigerators and in the parking lot. We also got ice cream at Joe’s Frosty Freeze and made a bonfire in Bennett’s backyard when we got home. Summer was tired after that much activity, so we didn’t get back after it until Thursday, when we went to Town Square Park, the police station to get an honorary badge from Sheriff Pete, and even to see that busybody Eileen at the paper.

Yesterday, Breezy arrived to find us in Bennett’s studio—a request from Summer herself. We grilled rib eyes and talked and laughed in the backyard for hours. And Summer and I finished the night by making some Taylor Swift-style friendship bracelets because Duh, why wouldn’t we?

“Okay, where were we?” Josie announces as she walks back into my bedroom. “Oh, right!” She snaps her fingers. “You need to get your ass out of bed because I need your help.”

“Help?” I furrow my brow. “With what?”

“There’re still a hundred candles that need labels. Not to mention, we have to pack up the car and get to the town square by nine. We’re going to be lucky if we’re there for the early birds at this rate.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Candles?” I question and blink a thousand times.

“Grandma Rose’s candles that have now become my candles because I made a promise to her,” she huffs out and turns for the door. “They’re one of Red Bridge Farmers Market’s hottest commodities.”

Since when did Grandma Rose sell candles?

“Josie, you’re going to have to elaborate a little more on the whole candle thing,” I call out toward her retreating back.

“Just get dressed and meet me in the shed!”

She’s nuts if she thinks I’m actually getting out of bed right now. I roll my eyes and lean my back against the headboard to read through Summer’s last two messages.

Summer: pink buddies 4eva!

Summer: tell my dad we shud do sumthin fun today.

I type out a quick response and hit send.

Me: You got it, girl. To the pink purse and the something fun.

“Hey, Josie!”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll go!” I yell, realizing what a good idea this actually is. “But only on one condition!”

Her head pops into the bedroom, making me jump with surprise. Jesus! I thought she was in the kitchen already!

“What’s the condition?”

I grin. “That I can bring along a few of my friends.”

The sun is shining, the summer heat is rising, and the Red Bridge Farmers Market is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Booths with crafts and fake homemade candles and all sorts of things fill up the town square. And more people than I even realized lived in this small town are here, walking around and shopping like it’s December 23rd and they still have their entire Christmas list to buy for.

It’s wild. And busy. And everyone appears hell-bent on grabbing a “homemade” Grandma Rose candle. I’m still reeling over the fact that Josie told me Grandma used to order all these candles off Amazon, relabel them, and sell them as though she made them herself when we were gathering supplies in the shed this morning.

“Oh, Josie, I am so happy I got to your booth before you sold out,” our latest customer gushes. “I needed my candle fix.”

Word on the street is that if you like to buy in bulk, Amazon can hook you up.

“Aw, Darlene. You’re such a doll.” My sister smiles and hands the older woman her bag filled with three “homemade” candles.

“You know, the only thing that would make this better is if Rose were her to sell them to me herself,” Darlene says with a wistful smile on her lips. “I’m sure she’s proud of you for continuing her legacy.”

Her legacy? Ha.

“By the way,” Darlene continues. “How long does it usually take you to make all these candles, Josie?”

“It depends on the scents I’m utilizing, but it can take anywhere from two weeks to an entire month for a hundred.”

I have to bite my lip to fight my laughter. An entire month? We just packed up one hundred of these things in two hours.

“Oh my goodness. I’m so thankful for all the time and hard work you put into these. Do you think you’ll have enough in stock for Christmas this year? Last year, you sold out pretty quick, and I was hoping to get a candle for each of my sisters and cousins.”

“I’m definitely going to try.”

Darlene looks at me with a soft smile. “Norah, you are so lucky to be on the inside of Rose’s homemade candles now. I begged her for years to show me, but she only let Josie in on the family secret.”

I force a smile to my lips. “Josie is still being pretty top secret about Grandma Rose’s candles. She’s only been letting me put the labels on them, but I’m hoping she’ll show me how to make them soon.”

So, is it a one-click checkout? Do we get Prime shipping with the bulk orders? So many difficult questions my sister has yet to answer.

Darlene smiles at both of us like a woman who really thinks my sister is making homemade candles, bless her. “Well, I better head over to Kelly’s booth before she sells out. You girls have a wonderful day.”

“You too, Darlene!” I answer with a big, fat, phony grin on my lips. “Enjoy those homemade candles! I know my sister worked really hard on them!”

Josie discreetly elbows me in the side, a smile still intact on her face, and offers Darlene a friendly wave as the older woman carries her bag of fake-ass candles toward another booth that sells knitted scarves.

Now, does Kelly actually make the scarves or buy them off Amazon, too? I have no idea. Maybe she has to utilize Etsy or eBay.

“I didn’t know our grandmother was a little con artist.”

Josie just grins. “She always said it was a dog-eat-dog world and you have to capitalize on every opportunity you can find.”

I laugh. “She has an entire town believing she could make candles. She was a swindler!”

Josie’s eyes turn wistful, and a little grin lifts the corners of her lips. “Grandma Rose was the best.”

Yeah, she definitely was.

And there’s a large part of me that wishes I would’ve been able to spend as much time with her as Josie did. That I would’ve realized that my life wasn’t my life at all and moved here when I was eighteen like my sister.

But there’s no use living in the past. All I can do is move forward and try to savor the memories I do have with my grandmother.

I spot a tall, towering, familiar head through the crowd, and my smile grows by a mile. My favorite people have just arrived.

Bennett weaves his way over to us, and I wave my arms in big, theatrical dramatics at my girl Summer when she spots me from her chair in front of him. She’s wearing her usual heart-shaped pink sunglasses and smiling so big it turns my heart to butter. Bennett’s sister Breezy trails the two of them slightly, getting distracted by every booth she walks by.

My eyes probably linger on Bennett a little too long, taking in his handsome face and his larger-than-life presence as he wheels Summer toward me.

Goodness, that man. I’d sure love to climb him like a tree.

We haven’t gone back to our “bookmarked page” since the night we bookmarked it in his truck. Both of us have had our energy entirely focused on Summer, and with so many people always around now, I’ve also felt like we’ve been living under a microscope.

Even though we have managed a few stolen kisses when saying goodbye, I can’t deny my desire for him hasn’t waned. If anything, it’s only growing by the day. The more I get to know him, the more time I spend with him, the more I know letting myself have this connection with him isn’t a mistake. It doesn’t matter where either of us came from—it only matters where we’re going.

He wheels Summer straight to me, and I greet her with a smile and an air-bump of my hip. She giggles, and I wish for not the first time that I could scoop her up in my arms and hug her tight.

“You guys are here just in the nick of time!” I tell her cheerfully. “We’ve been so busy all morning, and I really need help figuring out which scents are going to be our best sellers so I can get organized.”

“I want to smell!” Summer volunteers immediately, her eyebrows shooting up over her sunglasses.

“Perfect!”

I shuffle through the boxes at our feet, pulling out samples of every scent Grandma Rose got on scam from Amazon. We work our way through them all, Summer giving me the verbal thumbs-up or down each time. Bennett dives right into helping Josie as we’re once again overwhelmed with customers, and Breezy, when she arrives, starts shopping.

I hold up another scent of candle for Summer to smell, and she makes an immediate face of disgust.

Betty Bagley, the little old lady on our side of the crowd, snaps her fingers. “I’ll take that one.”

I’m confused as to why Betty Bagley would want one of the grossest candles, but I pack it up for her anyway, letting Bennett’s sister Breezy, who’s now rounded the table to our side, ring it up on our iPad.

As soon as Betty walks away, Josie starts dancing, and the rest of us look at her like she’s grown two heads.

“What are you doing?”

“Celebrating for Grandma Rose. The fact that Betty herself came over here and bought a candle means she’s officially stuck it to her. We’re the most popular booth at the market today, and Betty is shitting herself.”

“Grandma had beef with Betty Bagley?”

Betty Bagley is about five foot tall and weighs all of ninety pounds. She’s a tiny little thing, and I find it hard to believe anyone could have a problem with her.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Josie retorts on a hoot. “Betty Bagley might look all sweet and innocent, but she can be mean as a snake. Her competitiveness rivals Olympic athletes, and she spent a healthy amount of time tossing shade at Grandma Rose when she was still alive.”

“Dayum. I would’ve never suspected that.”

“She’s a wolf in little old lady’s clothing.”

“Pie lady Betty?” Bennett asks incredulously, making Josie and Summer both laugh.

Josie nods. “Oh, you have no idea.”

“Maybe she was just upset that Grandma Rose was involved in a candle Ponzi scheme,” I mutter under my breath. Josie shoots me a glare.

I hold up both of my hands, an innocent lady after all.

“What do you want to do tonight, Sum?” I ask as Josie gets back to helping the next customer in a long line. Bennett squeezes around Breezy at the iPad to join us.

“Do you want some lemonade?” he asks, looking at Summer first, but then glancing to me too. Summer squeals her excited yes, and I settle for a nod and a smile.

“Lemonade sounds great.”

Summer’s face falls as he leaves, and it makes me think about the heaven conversation I had with her in the hospital and how she told me not to tell Bennett about it.

She’s trying to be strong for her dad. She’s trying to hide her pain.

My nose stings with unshed tears as I realize…she knows. She knows what’s coming, but she’s putting on a brave face for Bennett every second she can.

“You okay, Summer?” I ask softly, squatting down so she can look me directly in the eye without having to work for it.

She hums. “Just thinking of what I’d really like to see.”

“Did you come up with anything?”

Her smile is slow and soft like a gentle rain on a steamy summer day. “A shooting star. I’ve never been outside at night, at least, not that I can remember, and I’d really like to see a shooting star.”

My head is jerky as I move it up and down.

“And a wedding. I’ve always wanted to go to a wedding.”

That request pulls me up a little short. I mean, the shooting star is possible, but a wedding? I don’t know if I can manage a freaking wedding. It goes without saying that weddings and I haven’t mixed very well thus far.

Plus, I’d need to find a bride and a groom and—

“I want to wear a really fancy dress, and get my nails painted and my hair fixed, and watch a pretty bride walk down the aisle to her groom.” She lets out a dreamy sigh. “I’ve only seen weddings in movies or on TV, and I just know they have to be so much fun.”

My chest nearly convulses.

Forget the complications. Come hell or high water, I’m going to figure out a way to get this sweet girl to a wedding.

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