Practice Makes Perfect: A Novel

I hold Annie’s hand as we walk through town toward the diner the next morning. It took a monumental effort for me to get out of bed and come with her to breakfast rather than asking her to take up residence with me in that room and never leave. She…Annie…Was…And I…We…

So good.

I’ve had sex before, and it’s always been great, but never in my life have I made love to someone. And I can now say with absolute certainty—there’s nothing like it. And now that I’ve had Annie in my arms, I can’t imagine ever wanting anyone else.

We walk in companionable silence until something catches Annie’s eye and she pulls me to a stop. “Hang on,” she says, letting go to take a few steps backward and look over her shoulder. She gasps. “Oh my gosh, I knew it.”

“What is it?” I ask, following her gaze to Comfort Quilts across the street. Through the glass I can see way too many people crammed into one place. “What the hell is happening in there?”

I can now feel the anger radiating from Annie as she pulls her hand from my grip and plants it sternly on her hip. God—her hips. No, not going there right now. “An impromptu town meeting, that’s what.” I watch Annie truck it across the street, ponytail swinging wildly behind her. I’m doing everything I can to keep up, but I’ve never seen this woman so determined. Except for maybe last night. (Again, not thinking about it.)

“I’m guessing you’re not happy there’s an impromptu town meeting?”

“Not when I wasn’t invited to it. That can only mean one thing.”

“What?”

She whips around just outside of the shop door. “They’re talking about us.”

“Oh. That’s all? Come on, let’s go get breakfast.” I try to tug her hand to follow me, but she won’t budge.

“Does it not bother you that they’re all in there discussing our business without us?”

I laugh. “Not a bit. They’re always discussing everyone’s business without them.”

She crosses her arms. “Well, I don’t like it and it makes me mad.”

Hearing this news, I know there’s only one thing to do: step around Annie and open the door.

She nods once and precedes me inside. All of the local business owners are stuffed in here like prizes in a vending machine. The few shelves covered in bolts of fabric have been pushed to the back of the room to accommodate all the metal folding chairs. There’s a small open area at the front, where Harriet is currently standing with a clipboard in her hand addressing the crowd. This really is a whole thing. How do these people have time for this? Someone had to bring all of these chairs and then set them up. Incredible.

When the bell above the door chimes, every head in the room swivels to see who entered. You can tell they were already on edge with the prospect of Annie showing up, because when they realize it’s her, there’s a collective gasp and quiet murmurs begin.

“Uh—Annie…welcome…we were just…”

“Oh, save it!” she says, moving through all the chairs to get to the front. Metal folding chairs screech against the floor in an attempt to shuffle out of her way quickly. “I know what y’all are doing here, and you should be ashamed of yourselves.”

And then Harriet steps in front of Annie to block her speech. The two begin to quietly bicker and I hang in the back, taking an empty seat next to Noah, who is by Amelia, who is by Emily, who is beside Madison. They each lean forward to wave and smile at me as I sit down. “Wondered if y’all would make it,” says Maddie.

“Why are you guys even here?”

They each—including Noah—look at me like I’m out of my mind for even asking this. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Because this is about your sister.”

Amelia grunts a laugh. “And last month it was about Noah and how he refuses to give free pies for the local elementary school fundraiser—that didn’t stop me from going. Popcorn?” She angles the bag my way.

“It’s eight in the morning.”

“So?”

“You popped a bag of popcorn at eight in the morning?” I ask, and she just shrugs. I look at Noah. “And why won’t you provide pies for children?”

Noah glares at me. “I did provide pies. I provided twenty-five pies.”

Amelia tsks. “Twenty-five rhubarb pies—and everyone knows that rhubarb pies are the worst pies, so it’s like he didn’t donate at all.”

Noah folds his arms tighter across his chest—clearly triggered. “When did everyone get so damn picky about free stuff? I had a surplus of rhubarb that week. They should be grateful.”

Someone in front of Noah turns around and glares at him. “No one likes the rhubarb pies, Noah. Just give us dirt in a cup next time.”

“You know what, Jonathan, I’m going to take every single pie off the menu except for rhubarb pie until you all learn to be grateful.”

Across the aisle, someone stands up and looks in our direction. “Before you do, can I get a fudge pie? I have family coming over tonight, and my mother-in-law swears I can’t cook—I want to make her eat her words when I serve a homemade dessert.”

Noah grumbles and then reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a notepad. “What time, Jane?”

“Can I pick it up around three?”

Annie and Harriet are still whisper-fighting in the front.

A man three rows up angles around toward us. “Noah! Can you put me down for a vanilla apple pie while you’re at it?”

“I’m out of apples—take it up with James and his shitty farm.”

James suddenly stands up from the front. “Damn you, there was a beetle infestation!”

“Hey!” Annie suddenly yells from the front of the room with one single reverberating clap. “Listen up! No more talking about pies. I have something to say. Harriet, sit down.”

Amelia’s bag of popcorn suddenly hovers in front of me. I push it away with a frown and focus on Annie.

She breathes in deep and then looks at me. I nod once, silently encouraging her to keep going.

Her shoulders square, and the woman looks fit for a court of law with how stern her expression is. Damn. It’s sexy. “It’s completely unacceptable for you all to gather together to discuss ways to break up me and Will.”

Mabel tries to interject. “But honey—”

“No!” She holds up her hand. “Everyone needs to hear this. I am so tired of being treated like a child by this town. Just because half of you had a hand in raising me doesn’t give you the right to make petitions and dictate who I can and cannot date. If I want to be in a relationship with Will Griffin—I will, end of story!” She snatches a brightly colored flyer from an audience member’s hand. “And furthermore, just because you guys made a petition and everyone—” She cuts herself off as she frowns down at the paper in her hands.

I’m on the edge of my seat now. What is on that paper? And how is this suddenly the most entertaining thing I’ve witnessed in weeks?

She lowers the flyer and looks out at everyone. “Approves? You all approve?”

What?

I snatch a flyer from Phil, sitting in front of me.

“Next time, young man, just ask!” he says over his shoulder before Todd puts his hand on Phil’s arm and pats it gently, earning a softening of Phil’s shoulders before they eventually lock fingers.

“Wait,” I say to Noah quietly. “Are they together?”

“Of course. What did you think?”

Well. The old married couple vibes make more sense now, that’s for sure.

I turn my attention down to the flyer, and sure enough, it shows the final tally of town votes for our relationship: 250 votes in favor of me and Annie dating, 0 votes against. That can’t be right.

This is me they’re talking about dating Annie. I don’t deserve her. This is bullshit. Every single person in this town should have voted against me. Do they not care about her at all?

Below the tally is an agenda for the meeting:

Address Marvin using the mayor’s parking spot

Share official petition results for the Annie and Will relationship: ruling in favor and support.

Harriet stands up again. “I’ll admit that at first I was skeptical because of Will’s media reputation. But the more we all watched you two together, the more we saw the realness in Will. He’s a good man. And furthermore, we can see that you two are clearly in love and right for each other. We just want you to be happy, Annie. And we see how happy he makes you.”

I’m still reeling from the word love used to describe me and Annie so casually. Mentally, I’m doubled over, hyperventilating, and trying to reach for something to hold on to.

Mabel suddenly shoots up from her seat. “But let the record show that I was always in favor of William from the start! Harriet only jumped on board recently.”

“Oh, sit down. No one wants to hear you toot your own horn.”

“I will not sit down,” Mabel says indignantly. “Actually, I will, but only because my hip is acting up and I want to sit down. But not because you told me to.”

Annie looks just as shaken by the L-word as I do. She blinks softly, hands the flyer to Harriet, and smiles. A montage of our night together runs through my head, and I assume it’s doing the same for her. And then I see the moment she decides she’s misled the whole town and needs to come clean.

Her brows pull together as she looks out over the crowd, and that’s when I stand up. “Thanks for the votes, everyone. Jeanine, are you headed back to the diner soon?”

She blinks at me. “Uh—you can let yourself in, hun. Coffee’s warm and Greg should be in the kitchen. Be there in ten.”

“Sounds good.” I go to the front, take a dazed-looking Annie’s hand, and start pulling her with me. “And Marvin. You really gotta stop parking in the mayor’s spot, man. Not cool,” I say, shaking my head on my way out.

The second we are out the door, I stop and take Annie’s face in my hands, pressing my mouth firmly to hers, stealing any words she was about to say right from her lips. Annie wraps her arms up around my neck and we both simultaneously deepen the kiss until we’re full blown making out on the sidewalk. Weird town meeting forgotten.

A minute or two or five later, we pull away out of breath. Annie presses her fingers to her kiss-stolen lips and blinks at me. Neither of us knows what’s happening anymore. And that’s okay.

“Let’s go get some breakfast, yeah?”

She swallows. “Okay.”

I look over my shoulder as we cross the street and find no less than twenty faces peering out the window of Gemma’s quilt shop.