go if you like.”
Wonderful. She looked at him like he’d just kicked her cat or something. No wonder she had Tick and her other brothers wrapped around her pretty little fingers. Buying time to gather his words, he freed a piece of gum from its foil and stuck it in his mouth, the first burst of wintergreen tingling over his tongue.
“Take your time. We don’t have anywhere to be. It’s not going to kill me to hang around while you browse.” He glanced around at the clutter, his gaze falling on a stack of faded Coca-Cola crates. He shook his head. People paid money for this? “I’m just not into…stuff.”
“I figured that out by looking at your apartment.” She moved down the narrow aisle, peering into glass display cases and plastic milk crates full of miscellaneous items. She picked up a glass telephone-pole insulator, turned it over to scrutinize the bottom and put it down again before she touched a finger to an old metal toy tractor.
Mark sighed. They’d be here all day, but if she kept smiling like that, all of the shadows gone from her eyes, the time would be worth it. He followed her.
A pie safe with punched tin doors caught his attention. Jenny had wanted one like it and he’d spent the weekend before her birthday building a replica. He’d cut his fingers all to hell punching crooked hearts and flowers in sheets of tin, and in the lower left door, he’d entwined their initials in the design. Just like this one—
Heart pounding, he leaned closer. A thin layer of rust hid the tin’s shine, but sure enough, the door held a stylized M intersecting with a J . He stood too quickly, blood rushing to his head, his vision blurring, a dull roar taking over his ears. It couldn’t be. He’d hauled the damn thing off to Goodwill, along with Jenny’s books, their cheap dinette set and all the baby stuff they’d never used.
The rough letters mocked him, and for a moment, he was standing on the front porch of the tiny row house again and Jenny smiled at him over the top of the safe, eyes sparkling, fingers caressing the wood. He swallowed, his throat tight and painful.
Shaking off the sensation, he looked around for Tori. Oblivious to him, she stood a couple of rows over, searching through a stack of old linens. He turned away from her rapt expression and passed a hand over his damp face. “Hey, Tor.” His voice emerged choked, a little shaky, and he cleared his throat.
“Hmmm?” She didn’t look at him, but held an embroidered tablecloth up to the light.
“I’m stepping outside. You take your time.”
“Sure.” She laid the cloth aside and resumed her quest.
If he’d ever wondered about his role in her life, there was his answer. He ranked somewhere below a pile of old napkins and things. Pushing his now flavorless gum to the other cheek, he chewed harder.
Near the front door, the redhead was tagging items. “Find anything you like?”
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “She’s still browsing.”
“Great.” She smiled, her gaze trained on the tag before her. As he passed, Mark studied her. He knew her. Something about the shape of her blue eyes.
He stopped, hand on the door. “Have you had this place long?”
She glanced up, her expression open and friendly. “A couple of years. I’ve lived just a few miles up the road, in Preston, all my life though. I used to work summers here when I was younger and I always loved it.”
Worked here. So had Jenny, her second part-time job. Blue eyes, red hair. He swallowed his gum, choking. Laurie. Oh, hell.
“Are you okay?” She reached for him, but he backed out the door before she could touch him.
“Fine. Just swallowed my gum.” He stepped into the harsh sunlight, dragging in gulps of damp sea air. Laurie. A rough laugh escaped him. He’d grieved with her, cried with her, slept with her, and she didn’t remember him. God, he was glad she didn’t remember him. The last thing he wanted was a “hey, how’ve you been, let’s
Wonderful. She looked at him like he’d just kicked her cat or something. No wonder she had Tick and her other brothers wrapped around her pretty little fingers. Buying time to gather his words, he freed a piece of gum from its foil and stuck it in his mouth, the first burst of wintergreen tingling over his tongue.
“Take your time. We don’t have anywhere to be. It’s not going to kill me to hang around while you browse.” He glanced around at the clutter, his gaze falling on a stack of faded Coca-Cola crates. He shook his head. People paid money for this? “I’m just not into…stuff.”
“I figured that out by looking at your apartment.” She moved down the narrow aisle, peering into glass display cases and plastic milk crates full of miscellaneous items. She picked up a glass telephone-pole insulator, turned it over to scrutinize the bottom and put it down again before she touched a finger to an old metal toy tractor.
Mark sighed. They’d be here all day, but if she kept smiling like that, all of the shadows gone from her eyes, the time would be worth it. He followed her.
A pie safe with punched tin doors caught his attention. Jenny had wanted one like it and he’d spent the weekend before her birthday building a replica. He’d cut his fingers all to hell punching crooked hearts and flowers in sheets of tin, and in the lower left door, he’d entwined their initials in the design. Just like this one—
Heart pounding, he leaned closer. A thin layer of rust hid the tin’s shine, but sure enough, the door held a stylized M intersecting with a J . He stood too quickly, blood rushing to his head, his vision blurring, a dull roar taking over his ears. It couldn’t be. He’d hauled the damn thing off to Goodwill, along with Jenny’s books, their cheap dinette set and all the baby stuff they’d never used.
The rough letters mocked him, and for a moment, he was standing on the front porch of the tiny row house again and Jenny smiled at him over the top of the safe, eyes sparkling, fingers caressing the wood. He swallowed, his throat tight and painful.
Shaking off the sensation, he looked around for Tori. Oblivious to him, she stood a couple of rows over, searching through a stack of old linens. He turned away from her rapt expression and passed a hand over his damp face. “Hey, Tor.” His voice emerged choked, a little shaky, and he cleared his throat.
“Hmmm?” She didn’t look at him, but held an embroidered tablecloth up to the light.
“I’m stepping outside. You take your time.”
“Sure.” She laid the cloth aside and resumed her quest.
If he’d ever wondered about his role in her life, there was his answer. He ranked somewhere below a pile of old napkins and things. Pushing his now flavorless gum to the other cheek, he chewed harder.
Near the front door, the redhead was tagging items. “Find anything you like?”
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “She’s still browsing.”
“Great.” She smiled, her gaze trained on the tag before her. As he passed, Mark studied her. He knew her. Something about the shape of her blue eyes.
He stopped, hand on the door. “Have you had this place long?”
She glanced up, her expression open and friendly. “A couple of years. I’ve lived just a few miles up the road, in Preston, all my life though. I used to work summers here when I was younger and I always loved it.”
Worked here. So had Jenny, her second part-time job. Blue eyes, red hair. He swallowed his gum, choking. Laurie. Oh, hell.
“Are you okay?” She reached for him, but he backed out the door before she could touch him.
“Fine. Just swallowed my gum.” He stepped into the harsh sunlight, dragging in gulps of damp sea air. Laurie. A rough laugh escaped him. He’d grieved with her, cried with her, slept with her, and she didn’t remember him. God, he was glad she didn’t remember him. The last thing he wanted was a “hey, how’ve you been, let’s
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