5. Paige
Chapter 5
Paige
P utting my ideas together for this month’s display window has been some of the most fun I’ve had in quite a long time. Creating the main display in my grandfather’s store back in Indigo Bay was something he always let me take charge of. He always tells me my eye for design and continuity is strong and I’ve enjoyed piecing together antiques of all kinds to create a themed display.
For this window, I want to go with something that will pop as well as something that might give customers an idea of how they could put the pieces we have available to use in their own homes. Maybe as a porch decoration, mantle display, or some other form of statement piece in and around the house. It was easy to choose a summertime theme and looking around the shop yesterday and today I feel like I have enough pieces here to make something happen.
The sun is shining outside, it’s a beautiful day, the window has been wiped clean and the front display area is swept and mopped. A fresh citrus scent with a hint of vanilla permeates the air thanks to the new air freshener I purchased. I turn on my blue tooth speaker, pick my favorite playlist on my phone, and get to work. Except it’s not really work when you’re having fun. The first piece I bring into the space is an old teal colored bicycle with a front hanging basket. It’s the perfect piece for summertime. I pull some nesting grass out of another container in the shop and place it inside the bicycle basket to make it look like a bird’s nest, topping it off with a few random ribbons and three antique ceramic birds.
“Perfect.”
Next, I add three pieces of furniture, one larger white dresser, a light blue distressed nightstand, and a matching small bench. I pull in an old white and weathered room separating screen to tie everything together and then place several pink and yellow accents—like a yellow wash bowl and pitcher, a yellow scarf hanging from the screen, a pair of light pink shoes on the bench with a stack of old books, and several blue mason jars sporadically placed—to make the display pop.
My hands on my hips, I study the display wondering what else I could do to make it extra special. My eyes roam the shop looking for any idea that might stick out and that’s when they spot the perfect piece.
“Why didn’t I think of it sooner?”
I shimmy myself out of the front window area and over to the front counter to grab a stepstool. Situated up high next to several others of varied sizes is an old wooden birdcage. It used to be white by the looks of it, but is fairly worn now, but it doesn’t matter.
It’s perfect.
Tipping my head back, I count myself a lucky girl that straps have already been strung to hang items from the ceiling and that I should be able to reach them on my own. I pull over the stepstool and reach up to wrap the strap around the top of the birdcage, effectively hanging it in the window. When I flick on the strand of lights that run the corner of the display I jump up and down and giddily applaud myself for a job well done.
“Knock, knock!” Two younger women, who look to be closer in age to me than the ladies I met the other day, step inside the already open door. One of the girls is sporting two tight braids in her hair and is dressed a bit like a tomboy compared to the other.
“Wow, it smells great in here,” the girl says.
“Hi ladies! Welcome to The Cuckoo’s Nest. Anything I can help you with?”
“Hey.” The girl with the braids waves. “I’m Rowena. My friends call me Ro. And this is Callie,” she says, gesturing to the other woman to step inside.
Her smile is contagious and everything about her is interesting to me. She has mahogany brown, almost blackish hair with a bright pink streak at the top tied up in a ponytail. Her olive skin is covered with numerous bright tattoos that pique my curiosity and the stud in the side of her nose shimmers in the sunlight shining through the window. She waves at me and then offers her hand.
“Hi. I’m Callie.”
“Paige. It’s great to meet you both.”
Ro’s attention turns to the display in the window. “Holy shit, that bike is amazing!” She steps over to it, running her hand around the perimeter of the basket. “It’s just like mine.”
“Really?” I ask her.
“Oh yeah. Daisy’s the best bike. She’s a trusty old broad.”
“Your bike is named Daisy?”
She nods. “Yep.”
I beam back at her. “Oh, my gosh see that yellow beetle out there?” I gesture out the window.
“Yeah.”
“I call her Daisy.”
Ro laughs. “Small world, huh? Nice ride. Saw Winston’s dad replacing the wipers a few days ago.”
I cock my head. “Oh, you did?”
She nods, amused. “Yeah. Did you not tell him to?”
“No.” My brows pinch. “But I did mention needing to stop by and grab some new ones. Why does he insist on doing things so secretly?”
Callie waves the idea away. “Oh, that’s just how he is. You’ll see.”
“Huh.” Weird. “Well, thank you for the car compliment. Daisy’s old, but I can’t bear to part with her, so I just keep fixing her up.”
“Seems fitting for someone who works with antiques though.”
“True.” I stand a little taller. “You’re right. Okay. I don’t feel so bad now. Thank you.”
“So, you’re new in town? Mrs. Woodcock and Mrs. Pierce were talking about you at our Dirty Hookers meeting this morning so we knew we needed to stop by and meet you.”
My brows pinch and I cock my head. “Did you say Dirty Hookers?”
Callie nods. “Yeah. It’s our little knitting club. Oh, you should totally come. It’s fun. Have you met Winston yet? He’s a goat. Well, not just a goat. He’s like, the goat.”
“Mayor of the town in fact,” Ro adds.
Callie points to her. “Yes! That’s right. Anyway. I’m trying to get his dad to allow me to crochet Winston a pair of pantaloons.” She twists her mouth. “Though he doesn’t seem so keen on the idea.”
“Okay back up a minute,” I tell them, trying to remember all the things I just learned. “The Dirty Hookers is a knitting group.”
“Yes.”
“Winston the goat is…the mayor of Tuft Swallow?”
“Indeed.” Callie smiles.
“And he wears…pantaloons?”
She laughs and then hooks her arm around mine. “Oh girl, one day. One day he’ll have the nicest pair of pantaloons a goat has ever had. Come on. We’re taking you to lunch.”
Callie hands me a menu for the Easy Swallow Diner and then opens her own in front of her. “Best diner in town.”
Ro cocks her head, wrinkling her nose. “Callie, you know it’s the only diner in town, right?”
“Yeah, but you know what I mean.” She looks up from her menu and wags her brow at me. “They have the best turkey club sandwich. I don’t even know why I bother opening this menu because I get the same thing every time.” She claps her menu closed and lays it in front of her.
A girl with pink hair approaches our table. An ornery smile crosses her face and I assume she knows the girls I’m sitting with. “Hi guys.”
Ro gives her a fist bump. “Hey Eve.”
Pink-hair-girl glances over at me and then asks Ro, “Who’s your friend?”
“Eve this is Paige. She’s new in town. Taking over The Cuckoo’s Nest for the summer while the Starlings are traveling.”
Eve’s eyes light up and she offers me her hand. “Well, welcome to Tuft Swallow, Paige. I’m Eve. Best friend of this chick right here,” she says, nudging Roe with her hip. “It’s great to meet you.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” I tell her.
“What can I get you to drink?”
“I would love a lemonade if you have it.”
She nods. “Absolutely. Callie? Ro? The usual?”
They both smile. “Yep.”
“Two iced teas and a lemonade coming right up.”
I lean over the table, closer to my new friends, as she walks away. “I love her hair.”
“I know, right?” Ro smiles. “One day maybe I’ll go all pink too. C’est la vie, right?”
“So,” Callie starts. “Tell us more about you, Paige? Where are you from?”
I close my menu after deciding to order the grilled chicken sandwich and sit back in the booth. “I’m from Indigo Bay. It’s about two hours south of here. On the coast.”
“Oh cool. And antiques are your thing?”
“They’ve kind of been my thing since I was a little girl. I grew up in and around antique stores. My family owns several up and down the coast. Mainly touristy type small towns.”
“Oh wow. That’s impressive. So, what made them choose Tuft Swallow since we’re not super close to the coast?”
“My aunt and uncle moved here and really loved the small-town vibe so they opened up shop before I was born and now here I am.”
“Rosie is such a sweet woman. She came into the Dirty Hookers meetings a few times but never got the hang of knitting no matter how hard Mrs. Woodcock tried.”
I laugh. “That sounds accurate for Aunt Rosie. She doesn’t have a ton of patience for things like that.”
“And you said you’re only here for the summer?”
I nod. “Mhmm. Once Rosie and Javan return from their trip I go back home.”
“And then what?” Ro inquires. “What do you want to do?”
“Honestly? I’d love to open my own shop.”
Just then the bell to the diner door sounds as it opens. Brannon walks in dressed in a pair of blue coveralls that he’s unzipped halfway and tied at his waist. The top of him is covered in a black tank top, his bulging biceps on display for the whole diner. He steps up to the metal barstools that line the counter just inside the door, but he doesn’t sit.
Damn.
The more I study him, the prettier he is.
Epitome of tall, dark, and handsome.
Emphasis on dark since he’s still pretty mysterious to me.
Gah! The veins in his arms that pop out like that…
I’m a sucker for the raised vein look on a guy’s arms.
Ro sighs loud enough that I can hear it. “Wow. Can he get any prettier?”
Right?
“Did it get hot in here?” I add.
“Hey!” Callie waves. “Winston’s Dad! You want to join us?”
Wait, what?
Oh, my gosh! Is she seriously calling him over here?
Brannon turns to catch Callie waving at him and then spots me at their table. He’s expressionless as his eyes bore into mine and I wonder what he’s thinking. It’s crazy, I know, but for just a moment it feels like the air around us is sucked out and an electric spark shoots through me all the way to my toes. I kind of forget there are other people around us because it feels, at the moment, like we’re the only two people in the room.
My lips part as I gasp softly and I swear Brannon’s eyes darken as they remain locked on mine. The man takes my breath away, there’s no doubt about it, and frankly, I don’t know if I should wave to him as well or not. I try to pass him a friendly smile. We are neighbors after all, but he doesn’t return that gesture either. He simply nods with a lift of his chin before the woman behind the counter hands him his to-go order and he then he walks out of the diner.
My shoulders fall and I sag into the seat mulling over that entire silent interaction with Brannon. We haven’t spoken in a couple of days, mainly because I haven’t bothered him in a couple of days. No knocking on his front door and no climbing in and out of his goat pen. Now I wonder if he hasn’t said anything to me because he’s upset with me, or if this is normal for him and all the times we’ve exchanged words of any kind was because I was being a nuisance.
And maybe he walked away because of me.