Page 40 of Better Together

Alexis’s phone rang, pulling her out of the moment. She sighed, breathless, and glanced at the digital readout on the microwave: seven a.m. Zeke looked to the ceiling, trying no doubt to contain his thoughts.

She picked up her phone. “It’s Susan,” she said to Zeke, and answered. “Good morning, Susan.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Alexis met Zeke on the sidewalk in front of her house. The afternoon was cool and the sky clear. Leaf-peeping season was in full bloom, and the leaves, in scarlet, caramelized bronze, honey gold, and eggplant, rustled slightly in the breeze. “Hey, Sweets,” Zeke greeted her, wrapping her in a hug and placing a quick kiss on her lips. They’d decided to walk into town together, since she was on her way to meet Paige and Maggie at the crochet club at Turner Books, and Zeke was meeting Ethan and Owen for dinner at the Deer Creek Lodge’s restaurant, the Blue Ox.

“When did you learn to crochet?” Zeke said.

“Ha! I don’t know how, but I guess I’m going to learn. I’ve been told I need a hobby.”

Zeke chuckled. “Maggie’s advice?”

“How’d you know?” She didn’t know if she would like to crochet or not, but she wanted to spend time with her friends. If she learned a new skill, so be it. If she didn’t like it, she’d still attend when she could and enjoy their company as they worked on their projects.

It had been Lily’s idea to start the crochet club after Paige took over Turner Books and remodeled, designating the back third as a gathering space for book clubs and art classes led by local artisans.

A quick and brassy horn sounded behind them. “Hello, you two!” The Sampson brothers, dressed in their Sunday best, waved as they sped past, driving their souped-up golf cart toward home.

Alexis and Zeke turned the corner onto Main Street just as the Sampsons’ golf cart careened into the back of Nick’s patrol car and onto the sidewalk.

“Call 911,” Zeke said before sprinting toward the octogenarians. Alexis got on the phone with dispatch. Nick ran out of the café, almost hitting her with the door. He spoke into his shoulder mic as he ran down the sidewalk.

“I called the paramedics,” Alexis said as she kept pace with Nick.

Zeke, a first responder, had reached the brothers first. The golf cart sat hung up on the curb at an angle. The cart had sustained the most damage. The squad car’s taillight had shattered, and a purple streak from the customized golf cart ran the length of the back bumper.

When Nick and Alexis approached, Zeke had a grin on his face as one brother yelled at the other.

“Why did you push the accelerator, Eddie!?” Charlie yelled.

“I was distracted.”

Alexis bent over and placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. Dr. Sampson had once comforted her after an accident when she was fourteen. “Are you hurting anywhere, Doc?”

“No, hon. I’m fine. As for Eddie . . . I’ll be doing the driving from now on.” He focused his anger and embarrassment on his brother.

Charlie waved his hands around. “What would you do with a hooker, Eddie? You can barely tie your shoes!”

Concerned, Alexis looked to Nick and Zeke for answers, trying to make sense of the brothers’ ramblings. They’d seemed fine seconds ago, but now both of them were talking nonsense about hookers. Maybe they’d knocked their heads together during the crash.

Paige ran out of the bookstore. “Oh my! What happened? Is everyone okay? Doc? Eddie? Are you all right?” she asked.

“We’re fine,” Charlie said. “Just a little bump on the head. It doesn’t even hurt.” He pointed a shaky, spotted hand at the sign in front of Turner Books. “Eddie was distracted. When did you start running a bordello out of the bookstore, Miss Turner?”

“Umm, Paige . . .” Nick and Zeke’s shoulders shook as they pointed to the sign.

Paige covered her mouth in shock.

Zeke smirked. “When did you start advertising for hookers?”

The chalkboard sidewalk sign read Hookers Wanted: All Ages Welcome. Use back entrance.

Paige stuttered, “I . . . oh.”

Alexis pressed her lips together tightly to keep from laughing.

Lily came running through the small crowd that had gathered around the Sampson brothers. “It’s my fault!” she wailed. “I made the sign to get attention for our crochet club.”