“Oh, as if you wouldn’t need a matching straight jacket,” she snapped. “You were just as crazy worried as I was!”
My eyes began to prickle. All I could manage to croak out was an emotion-clogged, “You guys…”
Both of them simultaneously tightened their arms around me, so I was fully ensconced in love from all sides. We stayed like that for a long while, until I was afraid I might actually lose the battle against my gathering tears. Blinking hard, I forced myself to squirm out of their hold and cleared my throat.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough. You’re suffocating me.”
Drifting away, Flo reached into the bag and pulled out four breakfast sandwiches wrapped in paper. They smelled delicious. Way better than cold sourdough. The memory of Graham chomping playfully into my toast earlier flashed through my head. I resisted the urge to look toward the bedroom alcove, where he’d disappeared. I could hear the low murmur of his voice as he spoke into the phone, but couldn’t make out any of the words.
Focus, Gwen.
I topped off my own coffee from the pot after directing Flo and Des toward their mugs, trying not to trip on the long legs of my sweatpants as I moved around the kitchen. Desmond plunked his tall frame down on one of the kitchen island stools. His gaze was gentle behind the translucent bookish frames he wore as Florence passed one of the wrapped sandwiches into his ink-stained hands. Professor’s hands. She shot him an equally warm glance before hopping up on the stool beside him, bumping her shoulder against his as a smile played at her lips.
Seeing the wordless exchange of affection made my heart turn over. I didn’t think it would be long before Desmond popped the question — assuming Florence didn’t beat him to the punch. They were so head-over-heels for each other, it would’ve been nauseating if it weren’t so danged cute.
“I got your favorite,” she informed me around a bite of her onion bagel with cream cheese and lox. Her words were almost unintelligible. “Scrambled, extra cheddar, no bacon, on a toasted asiago.”
My mouth was already watering, but I resisted the urge to sink my teeth into my own sandwich. “You’re a goddess. I just need to call Hetti before I eat.”
“Why?” Des asked around a huge mouthful of his own.
“To tell her we’re going to have to open a bit late. I’m running on zero sleep and I can’t exactly wear this to work.” I gestured down at the getup I’d borrowed from Graham. “There’s no way I’m going to make it to the store by nine to open.”
Flo wrinkled her nose. “Can’t you just stay closed for the day?”
“On a Saturday, less than six weeks from Halloween?” I shook my head. “No way. This will be one of the most profitable days of the year. I can’t afford to lose that business.”
“Then let me help.”
“What?”
“Let me run the shop for you.”
I eyed my best friend dubiously. “Flo…”
“Don’t look at me like that! It’s not like I haven’t helped out before.”
This was true. Florence was an elementary school teacher and, as such, had her summers off. On more than one occasion in the past, she’d kept me company at The Gallows on rainy days, clearing tables and washing used coffee mugs. Still, there was a major difference between helping out on a slow August afternoon and running the show solo during a high-season weekend.
“I appreciate the offer, Flo, but it’s too much to ask you to do that,” I said as gently as possible. “It’ll be a madhouse this afternoon.”
“I run a classroom of unruly second graders five days a week in an underfunded public school. I’m pretty sure I can handle entitled hipsters and wide-eyed tourists for a single day.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” She grinned at her boyfriend. “Besides, Des will help me. Isn’t that right, sweetheart? You can grade papers in the back office and help out if it gets really crazy.”
Desmond just nodded his head indulgently and continued eating his breakfast.
“Besides, it’s not like I have to make fancy latte art or anything,” Flo pointed out. “Hetti will be there for that.”
“Hetti can be kind of moody,” I warned.
Flo scoffed. “I’ve met the girl a hundred times. No amount of eyeliner will intimidate me.”
“Okay, but the cash register drawer sticks. You have to press on the left side—”
“I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”