To Get Me to You (Wishful 1)

“That was a favorite of ours to laugh about at our sorority house in college.”

“So you’re saying all the fantasies we guys have about sorority houses are true? Pillow fights and sexy pajamas and all?”

Norah waggled her eyebrows at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Cam sank down on the edge of the fountain that dated back to just after the Civil War. He patted the ledge. “Sit.”

He liked the neat way she tucked her legs, even in jeans. She always managed to look put together and elegant, which made him wonder what she’d looked like all mussed up.

“Have you made your wish yet?” He swiveled toward the water so their knees bumped. She didn’t move away.

“My wish?”

“Sure.” Cam dipped his fingers into the few inches of frigid rainwater in the basin. Coins glimmered below the surface. “The fountain itself might not have run for years, but people still make wishes. Don’t tell me after all the years you’ve been coming here, you’ve never made a wish.”

“Never have. I’m much more a If you want something to happen you have to make it happen kind of girl.”

“There’s a lot to be said for self sufficiency and drive. But sometimes you need a little help.”

“Does it work?”

“Mmm, hard to say. When I was sixteen, I wished for a really hot car. Sure enough, I got a hot one all right. The AC never did work in that thing.”

She laughed. “If that’s not clear illustration that you should be careful what you wish for, I don’t know what is.”

“Other folks have had better luck. Uncle Pete came here before he proposed to Aunt Liz and wished she’d say yes. Obviously that worked out.”

Her smile was just a little dreamy. “They’re great together.” She trailed her fingers through the water. “Has the city ever tried to fix it so it’ll run again?”

“’Bout the time I was in middle school, they did a whole big thing trying to replace the copper pipes out to the springs. They figured it had collapsed somewhere in the last hundred and fifty years or so. But the lines were completely intact. They never did figure out what the problem is.”

“Wait, the fountain is supposed to be fed from Hope Springs?”

“Yep.”

“That’s rather poetic, somehow. And sad. Like the fountain dried up as hope in Wishful did.”

“You think Wishful doesn’t have hope?”

She looked around what they could see of Main Street, and Cam wondered what she saw. “I think it’s suffered a lot of economic downturns over time, like lots of small towns.”

“You’re not wrong. We’ve lost a lot of our industry and about a third of our population over the last thirty years.”

“That weighs on you.”

Cam arched a brow.

“You aren’t the only one who’s observant. This is your town. You want to save it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. It’s why I ran for City Council. Well, partly. It started as a means to keep an eye on my mother when she went back to work. Gave me a reason to stop by during the day to check on her without looking like I was checking on her.”

“Did she buy it?”

“Of course not. But turns out I actually like the job. Most of the time. Sometimes it’s really frustrating to be in a position to effect change but not actually be able to change a damn thing.”

“Sounds like you have something to wish for yourself.”

“So I do.” Cam fished a couple of quarters out of his pocket and placed one in Norah’s hand, letting his fingers linger over her palm. “I will if you will.”