Just This Once (The Kings)

Bluebird Books was nestled among the quaint storefronts in downtown Outtatowner. The wooden sign that hung above the glass door looked hand carved, and it hearkened back to a time before smartphones and Kindles and other modern technology.

I peered through the glass. The bookstore held promises of whispered secrets between stacks of old books, of discovering new favorites among cherished classics. Through the large front window, I saw plush seating arrangements nestled between tall stacks of books. Along the window seat, overstuffed pillows invited visitors to take a break from the beach and bustle and simply sit and relax with a good book and a cup of hot coffee or tea.

I hadn’t even set one foot inside its doors, but the Bluebird Book Club had already become my favorite place in Outtatowner. Though the lights were low, I could see figures milling about at the back of the store. I stood, feet planted in front of the entryway door, and smiled at the sign that stated Closed for the Bluebirds.

Rachel assured me that this unique group of women would be the oomph I needed to push my fundraising ideas forward. With their support, I might be able to rally the members of my new town and impress my boss, proving to him I was worthy of a full-time position on his staff.

I am confident.

I am capable.

I am charismatic.

I closed my eyes and repeated my mantra, and when I opened them again, a sense of calm settled over me. I nestled my laptop case deeper into my armpit and set my shoulders. Energy hummed under my skin.

The metal bell clinked against the glass door, announcing my arrival. I followed the murmur of hushed voices as I wound my way through wooden shelves toward the back.

The overhead fluorescent lights had been turned off, and the entire space was illuminated by candles and a smattering of table lamps, casting the space in a warm and inviting glow.

As I got closer, my heartbeat ticked higher. Excitement rather than nerves danced through me. I gently cleared my throat and lifted my chin, prepared to insert myself into what Rachel called a super-secret not-at-all-about-books book-club meeting, when my toe clipped the corner of a bookshelf, throwing me off balance.noveldrama

I crashed to the floor. My laptop skittered across the thin carpeting with a sickening crunch and bounce. My knees and wrists caught the brunt of my fall, and a chorus of gasps rang out, followed by deafening silence.

I stared at the hunter green and mauve fibers of the Berber carpeting. My breaths sawed in and out of my lungs.

That did not just fucking happen.

My knees throbbed and my head ached from the jolt.

“Emily?” My mother’s voice drew closer, and I was shocked to find her crouching at my side. One arm banded across my shoulders, and the other dipped into my armpit in an attempt to hoist me up. “Honey, are you okay? What are you doing here?”

I allowed her to pull me to standing. My stomach wanted to fold in on itself as I took in the curious faces of the women in front of me. I rolled my sore wrists and glanced down at my laptop.

“Hey, Mom. I could ask you the same thing.”

“Are you all right, dear?” An older woman stepped forward, concern furrowing her brow.

I plastered on the calmest, fakest smile I could muster to keep from crying. “I’m embarrassed, but otherwise just fine. Thank you.”

“Did you need me for something?” my mother asked.

I smoothed my hands down the front of my slacks before jerking my head. I looked out into the small group of onlookers. “I’m here to speak with all of you, actually. I had heard that the Bluebirds were who you turned to when you were desperate and in need of help.”

“Told you word was getting out.” Another older woman looked annoyed as she topped off her coffee.

“Oh, stop fussing, Bug,” the first woman tutted before turning back to me. “That’s exactly what we do. I’m Tootie Sullivan.” She jerked her head toward the woman at the coffee maker. “That old grouch is Bug King. Don’t mind her surly attitude. There’s a kind heart in there somewhere.” She looked at me and winked. “We think.”

Bug King.

Thoughts of Whip flooded my mind as his resemblance to the woman started to take shape.

My mother’s hand rubbed up my spine, snapping me back to the present moment. “Let’s get you settled, and then you can tell us about the kind of help you’re looking for.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, still reeling from the embarrassment of my entrance.

Mom ushered me toward a console table that was made up as a makeshift bar. Coffees and teas were littered among a host of alcohol.

“Coffee, or do you need something stronger?”

I looked over my options. “I think that entrance calls for tequila.”

A laugh erupted over my shoulder as my mom poured me a margarita into a glass cup that appeared handmade. “That’s my kind of girl!” I turned to see a woman who looked to be around my age smiling at me. She stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Julep, but everyone calls me MJ.”

I took her hand in mine and shook. “Emily.”

MJ turned her body, opening herself up to the room. “You’ve met Tootie Sullivan and Bug. Over there is Mabel, Big Barb, and Martha.” As she pointed, women waved or saluted with their drinks. “Then there’s my sister Sylvie sitting by Lark, Kate, and Annie.”

“Hi.” I offered a wave, and my mom handed me the drink, topped with a hot-pink paper umbrella.

“Go sit with your new friends,” Mom whispered, and I suddenly felt like the new girl in middle school, hoping someone would let me sit at the lunch table. I followed MJ to the group of women around my age and hoped none of them were like Amy Winters, who in seventh grade pretended to be my friend but then spread a rumor that I wore boys’ underpants when the kid she had a crush on asked me to the eighth-grade dance.

As I approached, the women smiled up at me and shuffled around to make room for me on the plush velvet couch.

The woman I was seated next to—Lark, I think?—leaned in. “At the Bluebirds, Kings and Sullivans don’t really matter, but we still have to ask. Are you a Sullivan or a King?”

My mouth went dry. “Um . . .”

Five pairs of eyes waited for my answer.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m both.” Sylvie smiled.

Sylvie.

Recalling Whip’s mention of his sister and how she’d fallen for a Sullivan came rushing back. He’d claimed she’d come the closest to ending the feud with her relationship and the baby she shared with her husband.

Heat flooded my cheeks. “I . . . I think I might be a King?”

MJ whooped and laughed. “Yes!” She playfully stuck her tongue out at the other women. “Now we’re even, three–three.”

“Sylvie’s one of us. Four–two,” Annie teased.

“Nope,” Sylvie playfully laughed. “I’m both so I count on both sides. Four–three. Sorry, MJ.”

“Whatever. Close enough.” MJ pulled my hand so I would sit next to her.

“What is happening?” I asked.

MJ waved her hand. “Just a little friendly competition. Like I said, at the Bluebirds, we’re just friends.”

I sipped my margarita, and holy shit it was strong. I coughed as it burned down my tightening throat.

Annie laughed. “Sorry about that. I think I was a little heavy handed with the tequila tonight.”

“It’s great,” I squeaked and sipped again.

Playful conversation folded over me as I took in my surroundings. The bookstore had been transformed from a frumpy run-of-the-mill bookshop to a place where the women of Outtatowner relaxed and laughed. Chairs and settees were mismatched. One woman told a story while she knitted something in her lap. All walks of life were represented among the Bluebirds.

“The Bluebirds can pretty much come through with anything that needs doing in this town,” MJ said. “What do you need our help with?”

I looked around again. My knee bounced. “I don’t want to take away from whatever you were doing. Were you talking about a book or something?”

Kate laughed. “Not a chance. We only tell people it’s a book club.” She turned toward Annie. “What was the book for tonight?”

Annie grinned. “The Conqueror of Desire—some bodice ripper Mabel found.” She shrugged. “It’s actually pretty good.”

Sylvie leaned in. “We always get our story straight just in case anyone asks what book we’re discussing.”

I raised my eyebrows and nodded. “Smart.”

“So let’s hear it. How can we help?” MJ asked, her question drawing the curiosity of the entirety of the Bluebirds.

I straightened. “Well, I had a whole presentation ready.” I looked down at my laptop and prayed it would boot up after the tumble.

Bug King gestured with her crystal cut glass of sweet tea. “This really isn’t a presentation kind of a group. Just lay it on us.”

Bug was straightforward. No nonsense. I didn’t know quite how she was related to Whip, but I liked her already.

“Yes, ma’am.” I cleared my throat. “You may know that I am new to Outtatowner. My mother”—I gestured toward my mom, who offered an encouraging smile—“and stepdad moved here a few years ago. I was living in Virginia, but after some time I decided I needed a fresh start.”

All eyes were on me. The group of women were listening intently as if my story was riveting. They didn’t need to know about how I’d hung my hopes on a man who’d turned out to be the worst kind of liar—the kind that twisted the truth and made you believe you were the problem. For a long time I’d thought if I was just pretty enough or smart enough or perfect enough that I would be everything Craig ever wanted. As it turned out, he wasn’t even looking for my kind of perfect. He wasn’t looking for a square peg, and no amount of contorting who I was would fit into that round hole.

I realized then I would always be the one who cared the most. I’d shown my true feelings, and he’d used them against me. I had been too stubborn to accept the obvious and leave. Never again.

“Outtatowner is that fresh start,” I continued, gathering my courage. “I have family here and fell in love with the coast on the short visits I’ve made. Right now I’m substitute teaching sixth grade at the junior high school. I’m doing everything I can to make a good impression, and I’m hoping it can transition to a full-time position.” I willed my voice to stay steady. I hated the feeling that I was baring my soul, but I needed their support. “There’s nothing left for me in Virginia.”

“And what can we do for you, dear?” Tootie’s soft eyes made the lump in my throat grow larger.

“I’ve been put in charge of the Outtatowner Education Foundation. There are a lot of areas that are severely in need of fundraising. We need money for extra school supplies, after-school enrichment programs. The school library is an area I’d really like to focus on. The books are quite literally falling apart, technology is nonexistent, and we aren’t providing for the children in a way that will prepare them for how rapidly things in our world change. Without this money, nothing will improve. And if that’s the case, what are we even doing?”

Bug King’s eyebrow lifted. “That’s quite an impassioned speech for a tourist.”

I bit back a grin. Her bold personality didn’t deter me in the slightest. My chin lifted. “I plan to be a townie before too long.”

Her chin dipped slightly, and I took that as a win.

Tootie’s hands clapped together. “I, for one, love a proper fundraiser. I’m sure we can come up with some ideas that will impress your boss and bring a little excitement to our town.”

Lark walked toward the small counter that held the register, then bent over the counter with her butt in the air as her feet lifted off the ground. When she settled back on her feet, she turned and smiled, holding a pad of paper and a pen. “I’ll take notes.”

“Okay, Bluebirds,” MJ announced, gathering the group together. “Let’s hear your ideas.”

“A plant sale?” Mabel offered.

I looked around, and no one—including myself—seemed particularly enthusiastic about it, but it was a start.

“No bad ideas.” MJ smiled. “Write it down, Lark.”

Lark nodded and started writing.

One by one, ideas started filtering in, the women calling out ideas both big and small.

“A bake sale.”

“The car wash usually does well . . .”

“A silent auction.”

“A cake walk through the historic houses in the area.”

Finally, after idea after idea was written down, Bug King stood. “What are we, amateurs? Come on, ladies.”

“Let’s think about what’s coming up. Something that will really excite people.” Kate Sullivan brushed aside a wisp of her silky brown hair as she tapped her foot.

“Mother’s Day is around the corner,” Lark offered.

“Mother’s Day off. How about that?” Sylvie laughed, but my wheels were turning.

“I love that!” Mom chimed in.

A soft blush stained Sylvie’s cheeks. “I was kidding.”

“I’m not,” Lark added. “If Wyatt gave me a day of zero responsibility? I’d give him another baby just to say thank you.”

MJ laughed. “That literally makes zero sense.” She pointed at Lark. “But I like the way you think.”

I tapped a finger against my lip. There was something there, something we could use. “What if we do catered meals? ‘Mother’s Day Off’ where you can buy some delicious food—something like a main course, a few sides, maybe a salad? No cooking and no mess.”

Mom smiled. “I would have loved that on Mother’s Day.”

A hum of excitement buzzed through the crowd as the women nodded and agreed.

“This is perfect.” MJ smiled at the group, gathering consensus.

“What else do we have?” Lark was furiously taking notes.

MJ shrugged. “We could ask our brother Abel about a trivia night at the brewery. Those are always fun.”

“I also think we can end with a bang.” Tootie smiled and swept her hand in an arch. “A carnival. There’s not much going on around here between the Fourth of July and the autumn Fireside Flannel Festival. It could be an end-of-summer carnival. Like a last hurrah push before the new school year.”

Annie squealed and danced her feet. “I love the idea of a carnival. The lights and music and silly little games. I think it’s absolutely perfect.”

“It’s settled then.” Bug nodded. “Mother’s Day Off, a trivia night if Abel gives us the okay, and a carnival. Does that work for you?”

Tears pricked my eyes as I saw with perfect clarity how the Bluebirds showed up for and stood behind one another. “Yes, ma’am. I can work with that.” I swallowed the glass in my throat and looked around at the smiling faces of the Bluebirds, landing on my mother. “Thank you.”

I may have never been the girl to fit in, but if there were ever a space where I had wished I could, it would be with the Bluebirds.