“Oh, he is. He’s a total creep. Like, he did this really creepy thing last night,” she explained, pulling out a chair at an empty table and sitting. I was still completely confused how she managed to keep her job at that place.
“What did he do?” I asked, sitting across from her. If you can’t beat them, join them.
“Well, for starters, he’s always asking me how I’m doing, which is just weird. It’s almost as if he wants to know about me.”
“Dude. Okay, that’s totally weirdo territory,” I mocked.
“Right! And then! Last night, he came over to my place, and I asked him which room he wanted to bang in, and he was all like, ‘No, I want to take you out somewhere fancy.’ Like, what? And then after dinner and drinks, he walked me up to my porch, kissed my cheek, and said he would love to take me out some other time! He didn’t even try to meet my vagina last night.”
“WHAT A CREEP!”
“I KNOW!” She paused, glancing back at the kitchen where Sam was getting started on the griddle. A tiny smile played on her lips before she turned back to me. “He’s not that creepy, I guess.”
“No, I guess not. I’m so happy he gets to work in the kitchen too. I remember him telling me how much he wanted to do that.”
“Yeah, plus, he’s just freaking amazing in there.”
“I’m surprised Matty let him cook.”
She shrugged. “He kind of had to. I blackmailed him by threatening to send the video of him dancing naked to the Spice Girls to everyone who works here unless he gave Sam a chance.”
“You’re a terrible person, Faye.” I pushed myself up from my chair and went to head back to work. “But a really great friend.”
“It’s that Scorpio in me. I love you until you do something to piss me off. Then I turn into your personal Satan.”
I laughed.
“Oh crap,” Faye shouted, leaping out of her seat, placing her hands on my shoulders, and rotating me around from facing the front windows. “Okay. Don’t panic.”
“About what?”
“Well, remember when your husband died and you disappeared for a year and then came back, but were super depressed and you started banging an asshole who turned out to not be an asshole but just a dude who was hurt because his wife and son died? And then you two like kind of fell into a weird sexlationship where you pretended you were both someone else but then one day you were like, ‘But I want you to be you and me to be me,’ so you fell in love. And then you found out that your husband was involved in his family’s deaths, and then shit got weird and the dude left town, but for some reason thought it was okay to keep leaving you Post-It notes that just left you even more confused and hurt and totally, ‘Oh my gosh, it feels like I’m PMSing for four weeks out of every month and I can’t even eat any more ice cream because my hot tears melt it every time I cry into the Ben and Jerry’s.’ Do you remember all of that?”
I blinked repeatedly. “Yes, I believe that sounds familiar. Thank you for the trip down memory lane.”
“You’re welcome. Well, okay, don’t freak out, but here’s the thing. That dude you fell in love with? He’s across the street in the voodoo shop.”
My body shot around, and I saw Tristan standing in the store with Mr. Henson. My heart skyrocketed from my chest to my throat, and I could feel my body tingling with nerves.
Tristan.
“You’re freaking out,” she said.
I shook my head. “I’m not.”
“You’re freaking out,” she repeated.
I nodded. “I am.” My voice trembled. “What is he doing here?”
“I think you should go find out,” Faye said. “You deserve an answer for all of those damn Post-It notes.”
She was right. I needed to know. I needed closure. I needed to move on by letting go of any hope that he would someday come back for me—because I was definitely still waiting.
“Matty, Liz is taking a lunch break,” Faye shouted.
“She just got here! And it’s breakfast time!” he replied.
“Fine. She’s taking a breakfast break.”
“No way. She’s working her whole shift.” Faye started humming “Spice Up Your Life” by the Spice Girls, and Matty’s face turned beet red. “Take all the time you need, Liz.”
Chapter Forty-One
Tristan
I pulled up to Mr. Henson’s shop and hurried inside. He’d called me the day before and had sounded very distressed, telling me the shop was closing due to issues with the town asshole. I knew Tanner had something to do with it, and I knew Mr. Henson was probably falling apart. I had to check on him to see how I could help—after all, he had been one of the first to be there for me when I was completely lost.
When I walked into Needful Things, my eyes widened when I saw Mr. Henson packing up the store. It was as if everything magical about the place was gone. All the shelves emptied. All the mysterious items boxed away.
“What the heck is going on?” I said, moving toward Mr. Henson.
“Tanner is getting his wish. I’m closing down shop.”
“What? I thought you called me here to try to figure this out.” My fingers ran though my hair. “You can’t close up shop. Did he do this at the town hall meeting? He can’t do this!”
“It doesn’t matter, Tristan. I already sold the shop.”