Page 71 of Resisting the Fall

Maven: Maybe we could meet up halfway on Monday? Grab dinner in Saratoga Springs and find a quick activity to do?

Maven: I haven’t aced someone in bowling for a while.

The dots beneath Ben’s name appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared.

Ben: Unfortunately, my calendar for Monday evening says: fake networking meeting with Lush Lips.

Ben: Not sure who that is, but it sounds important.

I smiled to myself. He would be finding my creative calendar entries for years. Literally.

Maven: You could probably cancel that one.

Ben: Done. I’ll see you Monday night in Saratoga Springs. Let me know if I need to pick you up at the train station.

Maven: Sounds good

Ben: Good luck practicing for your audition

Maven: Thanks

Ben: I’ll see you on our breakfast call tomorrow

Maven:

Before I was tempted to change my mind, I set down my phone and stood. I needed to practice for my audition. And I needed to stop thinking about Ben. And the barn raising. And the dance after. And who Ben would dance with if I wasn’t there. Or if we’d dance together if I was. None of it mattered.

Or it shouldn’t.

I drew in a slow, clarifying breath.

I was doing the right thing. Even if it felt awful.

My phone rang again, but this time it played “Can’t Feel My Face” by The Weeknd—Carson’s personal ringtone since he’d become a dentist. I placed my violin on the bed and picked up the phone. “Hey!”

“Hi, Aunt Maven!”

I smiled. “Hey there, Penny. What are you doing?”

“Can I video call you?”

“Of course.”

I waited for the incoming video call and quickly accepted it. My niece’s darling face filled the screen. “I picked out my Halloween costume!”

“I want to see it!”

The camera flipped around, and lying on the bed was a beautiful, glittery pink dress with a silver wand and crown.

“Are you going to be Glinda, the Good Witch?” I asked.

Penny’s smiling face was on the screen again. “Yes!”

“What a perfect costume! I can’t wait to see you in it!”

“I can try it on for you this weekend.”

My mouth parted. I’d forgotten I’d told Penny I’d try to make it back before the football game on Friday. Leave it to a nine-year-old to hold me to a hastily offered comment given as pacification in the craziness of my quick departure.