Practice Makes Perfect: A Novel

It’s go time.

Looking from my left to my right, I exit the alley that runs behind my flower shop and into the parking lot. Immediately I see Phil and Todd—the mouths of the South—so I duck behind my truck to avoid them. It’s hot as blazes today, thick humid heat rising up from the pavement and boiling everything exposed. When I lean against my truck’s bumper, it singes the back of my arm like a hot iron.

Welcome to the South, friends, where you get third-degree burns from leaning against your vehicle. Worth it to avoid being spotted, though. I’d for sure be the talk of the town. Did you hear that sweetie pie Annie Walker spent the evening in Will Griffin’s room all alone? The Scandal!

The thing that bothers me is that if it were Emily or Madison, no one would think twice. But because it’s me, I’d have fifteen visitors the next day warning me to guard my heart.

Phil bickers at Todd about something (it’s always something), and I wait until they are safely in their truck and driving away to surface from my hiding spot. They’re the last shop owners to leave for the day, so I know the coast is clear. I waited to come back into town until after closing time so I could give everyone a chance to get into their vehicles and go home. Because, not to be dramatic, but tonight is the night when everything changes for me. Will is going to teach me to be a master dater, and I’ll snag a husband in no time.

Will dropped off a note at my door earlier (which made me laugh considering I have a cell phone he could have texted) that said tonight we’re going to write out a formal plan for the lessons. That gave me chills because there’s nothing I like more than a good bullet point list. The letter also came with a hand-drawn map and time stamps of when each part of the mission should be completed. I half expected the note to self-destruct after I finished reading it.

One thing is for certain, the man is thorough. Which begs an intriguing idea of what it would be like to kiss him or even…

Nooooope. Not going there.

Back to the plan. I’m supposed to be outside of Mabel’s Inn at 6:30 p.m., whenWill is going to distract her so I can get inside without her seeing me. Apparently, he’ll give me a cue and I’ll know it when I hear it.

Listen, this is high-stakes stuff. Even Jason Bourne would be sweating if he were faced with the potential of Mabel’s discovery of one of his missions. If she finds out, I might as well go live on Instagram with it because everyone from here to the edge of Kentucky will know about our secret lessons before my foot has time to cross his threshold.

My watch says I have four minutes until I need to be outside the inn. Once the parking lot is empty, I rush across the street. I can’t decide if I should walk normally or hurry while crouching, and I’m afraid the result will look like Annie is about to poop her pants. I’m really hoping Will isn’t watching out his window right now.

A few more blocks and I’m at my destination: Mabel’s Inn.

It’s a gorgeous old Victorian house with a white picket fence around the small lawn. It has the look of a home that was built before the town, and has been a second home to me since childhood. Every Sunday after church, my grandma Silvie would bring us all over here to Mabel’s for lunch. Mabel didn’t go to church, so she was able to spend the whole morning cooking up a huge feast—and I remember thinking how incredibly rebellious she was. Not going to church?! Gasp! I asked her about it once and she just told me, “If I wanted to see a bunch of people wearing fancy clothes and acting fake, I’d go to a steeplechase.” That was that, and I call dibs on being Mabel when I grow up.

The irony is that while Mabel won’t set foot in church, she plays poker with the church ladies at Hank’s Bar every Monday. Unfortunately, she won’t leave here for that event until eight o’clock, so I have to sneak by her.

Instead of following the sidewalk, I hop the side picket fence and plaster my back to the side of the house like Will instructed. No sooner than I’m in place does the front door of the inn open. And then I hear Will’s voice.

“It’s over here, Mabel! Follow me,” he says loudly.

“Well, shit, son. No need to yell. My hearing aids are already turned all the way up,” says Mabel in her scratchy sweet voice that always makes me smile.

“Sorry about that.”

“Apology accepted. Now show me this worrisome piece of siding.”

“Yeah, it’s just over here—” Will’s voice cuts off as he rounds the side of the house where I’m standing.

In unrelated news, I’m not so great at reading maps.

Our gazes meet and Will’s eyes go wide. I frantically start waving him away, and he whirls on his heels just before Mabel turns the corner. “Whoops! Wrong side. Totally forgot it’s…on the other side.” Their shadows are projecting onto the grass, and I see Will place his hands on Mabel’s shoulders and guide her the opposite way.

She whistles lightly. “Now, William. At least take me to dinner first.”

The only person in town who is a bigger flirt than Will is Mabel.

“Believe me, Mabel, if I thought I had a chance…” Will says, making Mabel chuckle and me roll my eyes. Their voices grow more distant, and when I believe the coast is clear, I peek my head around the corner.

Nope.

Not clear.

Of course Noah is walking up the front sidewalk of the inn, holding a pie box. “Mabel? You here?” he hollers.

“Yep! Right here,” she says, coming around to the front of the house and leaving Will on the side.

“Brought your pie.”

“Oh good, just set it on the porch, and come look. William was showing me a bad piece of siding on the house.”

“Really? Didn’t you just have the siding replaced last month?”

Mabel lowers her voice. “Lord, yes. But between me and you, I think the boy is lonely. Inventing excuses to spend time with me and all that. Better come humor him with me.”

“What’s going on?” And that would be the voice of Emily as she walks up to the inn, coming to join the circus. What the Frankenstein are my siblings all doing around town this late? Don’t they have lives?!

“Will is showing us a bad piece of siding on the inn,” says Noah.

Emily scoffs. “No way. I thought Mabel just had it all replaced last month. And Darell is the one who did it. He never does a bad job.”

Looks like I should have brought a tent, at this rate. Sweat is gathering on my neck. My shorts are sticking to my legs. Just how I wanted to show up for this night with Will—as swamp woman.

“Mabel thinks Will is just lonely and is trying to get attention.”

Emily laughs. “I highly doubt that. From what Amelia has said, he has lots of female company whenever he wants it.”

Her statement makes my skin itch uncomfortably.

“What’s going on over here?” Oh geez. Do we really need to throw Harriet into this mix? “Is this another impromptu town meeting without me?” She still hasn’t forgiven Mabel after the last one.

“Does this look like a town meeting, Harriet? Do you ever use your brain?” asks Mabel ruthlessly.

“At least I have one to use! And if it’s not a meeting—why are y’all standing around here?”

“William is going to show me a piece of bad siding.”

“Didn’t you just have the siding replaced last month?”

“Yes,” everyone says in unison, including me under my breath.

Finally, I hear Will’s voice. “Mabel, are you—oh, people. Look at that.” I smile to myself, imagining the look of annoyance on his face. I would bet my entire life savings that he rakes his butterfly hand through his hair.

“Yes, William, the gang’s all here. Now, show us this rotten siding.”

“Good. Right. Glad we all get to see it.” He pauses and clears his throat. “Follow me, everyone.”

I wait three breaths, peek around the corner again, and then hightail it up to room number four. Will’s room.