Page 45 of Something Old

It hit him as he walked away from Madeline’s shop—already dark and locked behind him as if he’d never been there—that he was feeling optimistic. He’d been an optimist once upon a time. It was nice to see it wasn’t a state forever lost to him.

Chapter 24

It had been a quiet day at the shop—only three customers all day—but Madeline’s head was loud with colliding thoughts as she locked up.

Life sure loved to kick your legs out again, just when you were finally stumbling up from the last blow, she mused, entering the week’s numbers into her accounting system.

It wasn’t herself she was feeling sorry for, however, or at least, not entirely. It was, per usual, Grant who was on her mind. She related to his comments about missing whatever they were before. She’d meant what she’d said, though. There was no going back, only moving forward. It was something that sucked about life. Or was a total comfort. One of the two, anyway—and perhaps was both, depending on your mood or a specific situation.

Despite her disappointment with Grant, however, she found she didn’t harbor any long-lasting bitterness at his astounding misinterpretation of who she was or what she was capable of. Everyone viewed the world and the people in it through the lens of personal experience, unless very, very diligent in trying not to, and sometimes, even then, it was impossible to be unbiassed, unjaded, unaffected. . . . Grant was no different.

Well, aren’t you little Ms. Philosophical today?

Lyle’s voice came from a corner of her brain—not meanly sarcastic, but definitely ribbing.

Madeline smiled to herself and rolled her eyes. She had arrived at some sort of peace and understanding about Lyle, finally. Probably the only good thing to come of her and Grant’s conflict. Or maybe it was down to her conversation with Gwen. Then again, perhaps it was just that enough time had finally passed for her to look back at her marriage and loss with something more than just raw pain and guilt. “Shut up, Lyle,” she tossed back lightly.

He did, and for a moment, she recalled his endearingly goofy grin whenever he’d thought he’d been funny. Then she returned to her other thoughts.

There was no point in being angry with Grant. He had been deeply hurt, and so he expected to be deeply hurt again. He watched for it, anticipated it, saw chances of it lurking where it didn’t actually exist.

And for her part, once her initial outrage and self-consciousness wore off, Madeline realized she still liked Grant. She admired how he apologized. How he kept showing up, not in a pushy way, but in a willing-to-keep-putting-himself-out-there kind of way that Madeline didn’t know if she’d have the heart for in the same situation. She was also sure if she told him point-blank that she never wanted to see him again, he would take her at her word and leave her alone. And yet, she hadn’t told him that, had she? Caring for a person was a mysterious thing, wasn’t it?

And now everything was going to become even more complicated with Holly back on the scene. Madeline’s gaze flicked to the wall calendar—each month a different vintage greeting card. Less than a week until Holly arrived.

Madeline and Grant had discussed his ex a few times since he’d told her about Holly’s plan to visit, and Madeline was worried for him. Grant didn’t seem to imagine any reason behind her reappearance in his life other than it just “made sense” since she was coming back to town. Madeline feared differently. She suspected Holly was having divorce regret and wanted him back. Or she’d run through her settlement and needed money. Or both.

In the months she and Grant had been friends, Madeline had seen what seemed almost like a physical shroud fall off him. He smiled frequently. He moved lightly. He’d started building again—the over-the-top, wonderful “cat condo” for Boots being only the first of many new projects. And while he hadn’t specifically said he was thinking about bringing his business back to life, little comments here and there made her feel he was. Fresh issues with Holly could wreck all that—and what if he took her back? Would that be a good thing or a catastrophic event?

Yeah, what if? That will really complicate the feelings you won’t admit you have, won’t it? Ronny asked, loud in Madeline’s head.

Madeline closed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter what my feelings are or aren’t—and I’m not admitting I have any. I only want what’s best for Grant.”

Sure, sure. Millions would believe you.

Madeline swatted the air. She had attempted to warn Grant, but he was having none of it.

“I think you gravely over-estimate my sex appeal,” he’d said with a wink—a wink that made Madeline feel she didn’t over-estimate it at all. “And you’re getting ahead of yourself. She hasn’t shown up yet, let alone made any proclamations of pining regret. Knowing Holly, she very well may not show up.”

Madeline wanted to take it as a good sign that Grant could joke about Holly, considering how much even mentioning her name had tortured him before. She also tried to tell herself it might be the final bit of closure he needed . . . but she couldn’t quite buy her own line.

A hesitant tapping on the shop’s front window pulled Madeline out of her head. Gwen was there, smiling shyly through the glass. Madeline went over and unlocked the door.

“I know you’re closed, but I was walking by . . .”

“No problem. Come in, come in. Are you here to shop?”

Gwen pushed her hand through her already tousled hair. “I just . . . need a break?”

It’s funny the things we make into questions, Madeline thought, then replied, “Me too. I’m glad you showed up.”

A furrow creased Gwen’s brow. “Oh, you need a break, too? And now I’m detaining you?”

“No, I meant I need a break from my head. Your timing’s perfect.”

Gwen took a big breath and seemed to relax. “My head’s probably a bigger mess than yours, so I don’t know what kind of a distraction I’ll be, but hey, misery loves company, right?”

Madeline laughed, and Gwen’s smile—if she had truly been feeling miserable—suggested she’d experienced a lift of spirits too.