Page 6 of Something Old

“Absolutely,” Madeline said again. “It’s your space. You figure out what you want in it—so long, of course, as she’s willing to accept the same terms you and I set up.”

Practically vibrating with excitement, her face and eyes glowing, Aisha stuck out her hand again. “I am so, so glad we met.”

“Ditto!” Madeline pumped Aisha’s hand enthusiastically.

“We should probably go over the specifics in more detail,” Aisha added, then glanced down at her phone, which she still clutched in her left hand. “Rats! I’m really sorry. I’ve gotta get going. When I stopped to spy, I had no idea I was going to be offered the best opportunity I could ever imagine.”

Madeline bowed her head, a little choked up. She rallied though and grinned. “And to think I was mildly depressed earlier, feeling the shop was lacking . . . and now here you are, the very thing I knew I needed but couldn’t find on my own.”

Aisha glanced at her phone again, wincing. Madeline understood. “We could talk all day, but you need to go. Give me your cell number. I’ll text you, so you can add me and have my contact info.”

The quiet shop was even quieter without Aisha in it. Funny how one person could make a place come alive. Madeline waited until Aisha climbed into a little car parked across the street and drove away before she texted, “Please don’t get cold feet! Come by with your stuff anytime next week! Bring Katelyn too, if you want.”

It didn’t take long to get Aisha’s reply—a string of excited emojis. Then, as if concerned Madeline wouldn’t take her seriously, another more restrained and professional follow-up text arrived. She thanked Madeline for the opportunity, suggested she draft a consignment contract, and told her she’d see her Monday.

Madeline sent back a thumbs-up, clapping hands, a party popper, two champagne glasses, and a cry-laughing cat face. Then she laughed out loud again. After so many weeks of solitary work and a predictable see-saw between optimism for the future and dread, what a lovely—and surprising—day it had turned out to be.

She took the posters she’d made for Boots out of her messenger bag and taped a double-sided one to the door’s window, not the most esthetically pleasing door art, but highly visible, then taped another one up by the payment counter. No doubt someone would respond to one of the many posters she’d hung up around town before the store opened, but the posters were cute, and putting them up here made her feel like she was mentally preparing for both saying good-bye to the cat and for seeing people in her store.

That done, she started rearranging the big window’s display. Even though she hadn’t opened for business yet, she regularly changed the display to keep people aware that although the doors were still locked, there was plenty happening behind the scenes—and lots of fun stuff “in-store” for the future. Come to think of it, that would be a great line to add to a couple of Instagram-worthy photos in coming weeks. She’d have to remember it.

As she worked, she was struck again by how quiet it was. Peaceful, sure, but for the first time, that hit her as wrong. “Peaceful” wasn’t the right atmosphere for a store. It should be welcoming and fun, busy and buzzing—the way it had felt while talking with Aisha.

Another thought occurred to her. She should buy a litter box and food dishes for the shop too. Boots could keep her company at the store while she did final opening prep—and then she wouldn’t have to worry about the cuddly guy being lonely while she was away for long hours. Plus, it would be convenient. If his family did come in, he’d be right there, ready and waiting for them.

Chapter 5

Grant stared at the ridiculous “second chance” shop yet again. It looked like a gingerbread house or something and was way too cheerful. That wasn’t the weird part, though. He was almost used to its gagging cuteness. What was strange was that all the interior lights were on, and a tri-colored spotlight shone on a colorful window display that declared a countdown: 10 MORE SLEEPS!

Would people actually give a crap how many sleeps there were until a store opened? Probably, actually. He wondered about the shop’s name again. The play on words and how it related to previously owned goods was pretty obvious—but did it have a double meaning? Was the owner looking for some kind of second chance, too, for some reason? The idea gave him pause. Then he shook his head at his soft-brained thinking and cracked the truck’s windows halfway. It was still cool out, but he usually didn’t leave Grover in the cab, regardless.

“I won’t be long, boy,” he promised.

Grover opened one eye at the sound of Grant’s voice, then sighed heavily and went—pointedly, it seemed to Grant—back to sleep. Do not disturb my nap with boring human trivia again, his inert body seemed to say.

Grant climbed down from the truck cab and bolted across the street to the shop before his nerve could fail him or his newly adopted misanthropy and desire to avoid human contact at all costs won out.

At the last minute, he changed his mind and turned back. He opened the driver’s door and whistled for Grover. It was better not to leave the dog in the truck, just in case it warmed up or he took longer than he thought he would. Plus, he could use the moral support. Plus, Grover was an excellent listener. He’d stay put on the porch. There wouldn’t be any problem.

Chapter 6

Madeline hummed as she set up her new point-of-sale system, downloaded its accompanying app on her tablet, and figured out how to program and use it. Less than two weeks until she opened. Crazy! Every so often, she glanced at Boots, who lay sprawled on his back in a sunbeam near her feet, completely snubbing the adorable bed she’d created for him out of a low-sided wicker basket and plush pillows. She was going to accidentally step on him at some point—or trip over him—for sure. Silly animal! Still, it was sort of nice that he wanted to stay so close to her. She’d always thought cats were wary and reserved. Not Boots.

Awake, he was a purr machine who loved nothing better than to be wherever she was, preferably on her lap. Asleep—which was anytime she was too busy to hold him or sit with him—he was a boneless puddle of complete relaxation and trust. Come evening, as she already knew from the few short days he’d been with her, he’d trot home at her side like a dog. Why wasn’t someone frantically knocking down doors to find him? He was so sweet. But then again, it hadn’t been that long since she’d put up the posters. Maybe he’d wandered far and wide from his home neighborhood.

Satisfied that she had the sales system figured out, Madeline double-checked the lock on the drawer she’d keep a small float in, not expecting a lot of cash sales but wanting to be prepared nonetheless, then carefully stepped around her sleeping business partner. A glance at the ceramic mermaid clock hanging by the door showed it was barely 4:00. She was surprised and thrown for a bit of a loop, having thought it was much later. Was it good or bad that time was running slowly for her now and that she felt almost impatient to get things rolling? For weeks, as the renovations were being done, then weeks more as she stocked the store and slowly arranged it just so, she’d been content for time to creep by like clouds across a nearly windless sky. But something had changed. It was as if meeting Aisha and finding Boots had flicked some switch. She was finally ready for whatever was next. Or as ready as she ever would be.

Checking the clock also reminded her of old habits. Back in the day, her high school teacher of a sister was done work by now, and they often used this pre-dinner-prep window to chat and catch up.

It had been a long time since Madeline had indulged in talking to Ronny because she honestly didn’t know if continuing to do so was a help or a hindrance. Today, she couldn’t help herself, though. She was . . . lonely. And she had so many new things on her plate. She needed to hear her sister’s voice. Dead or not.

Well, helloooo, stranger, Ronny trilled in Madeline’s head, practically the second she thought of her.

“Good grief, that was quick.”

Ronny’s raspy chuckle, so like Madeline’s own, filled her ears. If you were deprived of everything worldly for as long as I’ve been, you’d respond to any and every tingle, too.

Madeline inhaled, half-pained, half-amused. It was such a Ronny thing to say.