Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
Olive opened her eyes much too early on the morning of her second day in retail. She tried to go back to sleep, but that wasn’t happening. This was an unexpected and new situation for her, temporarily living in a new place and taking over the boutique for a couple of weeks. The thoughts that came with all that kept her awake. She’d never done well with change. And yet that’s what life was, apparently. Constant change.
There were always things to do before she unlocked the boutique door at ten. Cleaning, organizing, a little paperwork. But no matter how much work was waiting for her, no matter how early she’d awakened in the strange bed, there was no reason to get to Dawn’s Radiance two hours ahead of time.
She crawled out of bed, stumbled to the kitchen, and made a single cup of coffee. The house had come fully furnished and included a small coffee maker that took pods. Not her favorite method of preparation, but it would do. With caffeine kicking in she pulled on a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt and headed out, locking the door behind her. It was a little brisk, but the cool air felt good. Invigorating.
As she walked past Tuck’s house, she couldn’t help but glance in that direction. All was quiet, as if the house and everyone and everything in it slept. It didn’t seem to be his style, not at all. She would’ve pictured him in an efficient apartment, or a modern house, or a small cottage. This house… it was kind of magnificent. It had been built for a family. Did he have one she didn’t know about? A wife, kids, holidays and birthdays celebrated with style. But as far as she knew, Tuck was alone. Unattached.
His truck, a fairly new gray monstrosity, was parked in the driveway. He worked at night, kept hours that suited his business, so he was probably sleeping soundly. Alone?
A weird sensation swept over her, sending a chill down her spine. Not her business. She didn’t care.
The other houses she passed before she turned toward the beach all sported Christmas decorations. Some were small and tasteful. A wreath. A little bit of festive garland on a banister. Others had gone all out with lights and inflatable Santas and snowmen. One of the Santas had lost some air and sagged a bit.
The walk from her turn at the end of the street to the beach was relatively short. If she was going to live near the water she might as well take advantage of it. This wasn’t good weather for swimming or sunbathing, but the gulf was magnificent no matter what time of the year it was.
Olive took off her shoes and left them behind to walk toward the water, enjoying the feel of cool sand between her toes, the sound of the waves, the scent of salt water. The sun was barely up; the soft light was perfect, a gentle welcome to a new day.
She’d been overthinking the situation she found herself in. Yes, everything was different this year, but she could make this a good day even if it was getting close to Christmas. She could make all the days during her stay in Seawolf Beach good ones, if she adjusted her thinking a little. If she could just let go.
One of these days she was going to have to leave her distaste of the holiday behind. She knew it, told herself that every year. And yet on some winter days she wallowed and threw herself a pity party. Why? Wallowing wasn’t good for anyone.
She had the beach and the magnificent view before her to herself, until a runner approached at a slow, steady pace. No shirt in this weather. And shorts! Movement probably kept him warm enough, but to her he looked cold. As he drew closer, she recognized Coltrane Hart. He looked serious, focused… and he wasn’t talking to air this morning, as he so often did.
Colt smiled and slowed as he approached. When he wasn’t acting weird, he was pretty appealing. Handsome, with a runner’s body and a nice smile. It was hard to focus on that when he was fully dressed and talking to himself.
“How’s everything with the house?” he asked as he came to a stop a few feet away.
“Great,” she said. “I love it.”
“Good. If you need anything, anything at all, give me a call.”
“Thanks.” She’d be more likely to contact his fiancée if she needed anything, but still, the offer was nice. “Anna doesn’t run with you?”
“Anna isn’t a morning person.” Colt smiled, and his affection shone through. His love was evident in the way he said Anna , and in the warm gleam in his eyes.
It had been a long time, but she didn’t think Stefan had ever looked this way when he said her name. So why the hell did she still think about him, at all ?
“Dawn told me about your engagement a while back,” she said. “When’s the wedding?”
“Spring.” He looked out at the water. “Probably right here, or close by. I’d be happy to get married today, anywhere, any time, but Anna’s mom wants a real wedding for her daughter. That’s not too much to ask, I guess.”
He had to be getting cold, since he’d stopped running. Besides, talking about weddings made her itchy. “I need to head back and get ready for work. Enjoy your run. Tell Anna I said hello.”
“Sure thing.” Colt waved again and jogged on. Olive turned away and walked through the sand, back toward her shoes and home. Home for the moment, anyway. She might have to adjust her opinions about the record store owner/landlord. This morning he’d seemed perfectly normal.
She almost laughed at herself. What was normal?
Tuck knew Colt Hart pretty well. It was a small town; they were both members of the Seawolf Beach Business Owners’ Association; they had mutual friends. For a short while they’d been neighbors, after Tuck had bought the Jasmine Street house and before Colt had decided to rent out the small blue house next door. Even then, their work hours had been so different they rarely saw one another. Colt didn’t get out much, so he wasn’t a regular at The Magnolia. Tuck didn’t own a record player, so he hadn’t been inside Hart’s Vinyl Depot for years. Last time he was here, he’d stopped in for coffee. That had been years ago, not long after he’d moved back to town.
The record store was busy for a Tuesday, as was much of downtown Seawolf Beach. It was nice that so many shopped locally, and that vacationers took advantage of the uniqueness of the town’s shops and restaurants. Come January all business would be slow. At least, that was usually the case. March would bring a change. With a warmup in the weather, the tourists came.
As he had last time, Tuck stopped by for the coffee before an afternoon of his own Christmas shopping. A high school kid, Benny, manned the coffee bar. It wasn’t yet four o’clock, so it was possible Benny had come straight to the depot after school, getting in a few extra work hours to earn money for the holidays. Since it was a cool 62 degrees outside, several people had the same idea. Coffee. Not for the first time, Tuck thanked his lucky stars that Uncle Houston hadn’t left him a business anywhere north of Mississippi. He wasn’t sure his thin blood could take it.
Tuck had no family, not since his uncle’s death. He could live anywhere. Sell The Magnolia, pack up, get out of town. He’d thought about it more than once, but this was home. He’d tried to deny that for a few years, but Seawolf Beach was in his blood, thin as it was.
Helen Sommers manned the counter, greeting and taking care of a steady stream of customers thrilled with their finds. Music from another era played over the speakers. The song currently playing was too old for Tuck to identify, but it was nice enough if you liked that kind of thing.
Colt stood near the front counter, talking to himself. Some people made a big deal out of that, but Tuck considered it a harmless quirk. After a couple minutes of chattering to no one, Colt turned his back to the room. It was apparent he continued to speak. Might be less obvious if he wasn’t currently using his hands to emphasize a point.
Tuck took his coffee and sat on one of the old depot benches. The music that filled the room was old, that was sure, but it was also oddly soothing. Music could do that. Over the years he’d found that a song could sometimes change the mood of a crowd or of a single person, for good or… not. As he sat there, sipping coffee and letting his thoughts wander, his mind turned to his new neighbor.
Olive Carson wasn’t really a neighbor. She was temporary, a short-term renter. She could’ve stayed with her sister and family while she was here, but having met her a time or two he understood why she’d chosen to book her own place. Olive wasn’t unfriendly, but she was quiet. Reserved, even. Mike and Dawn’s home was always a madhouse, with those two girls and the dogs. Mike wasn’t much better than a big kid himself. Every time Tuck had been in that house, there had been turmoil.
Olive was the opposite of turmoil.
It was perverse of him, he knew it, but ever since she’d said she didn’t dance he’d been determined to get her on the dance floor. Just once. That’s what he wanted for Christmas, one turn around The Magnolia dance floor with a beautiful woman who said she didn’t dance.
Everyone danced.
Colt spun around and walked to Tuck, said hello, then sat on the opposite end of the bench. There was no smile, not today. He didn’t speak right away, but he did lift his hand as if to silence someone who wasn’t there.
“Humor me,” Colt said, looking directly at Tuck.
“Okay.” Maybe the owner of the depot was quirkier than he’d realized.
“What was your mother’s name?” Colt asked.
The personal question came out of the blue. Tuck’s heart hammered hard, in response. How long had it been since anyone had mentioned his mother? No one had ever asked for her name; at least, not for a very long time. “Doreen,” he answered. “Doreen Tucker.”
He hadn’t thought about his mother for years, not in any deep and meaningful way. Sure, now and then a good memory would come to him, and in that moment he missed her. A lot. He wished she’d lived longer. They hadn’t made enough memories. He’d been born late in her life, at a time when she’d thought there was no chance she could have a baby. She’d died two months after his thirteenth birthday. His father was already gone at that point, dead for five years.
After his mother’s death he’d moved in with Uncle Houston, moving from a small town in western Tennessee to Seawolf Beach, where he’d stayed for a few years before joining the Army.
Hardly a heartwarming tale.
Colt bolted off the bench, talking to himself as he walked to the back room. Okay, that was weird. You’d think a recently engaged man with a hot girlfriend would try to get rid of his bad habits. Still, if Anna didn’t care about her fella talking to himself, why should he?
He didn’t.
Talking about his mother stirred up memories he could do without. Christmas mornings alone. Manning his bar where other lonely people went on Christmas Day. Not that he was lonely, not really, but the truth was he envied Mike his hectic household. Even Colt, off-center as he was, had a fiancée this year.
Something tickled his right cheek. Tuck swatted at what he assumed was a bug, hoping it wasn’t a spider. He hated spiders. Whatever it was, the bug moved on.
He finished his coffee, stood, and headed for the exit. Maybe he didn’t have a family or a hot fiancée, maybe he’d be on his own again this year, or at someone else’s home for Christmas trying not to feel like a fifth wheel. He didn’t want much; he didn’t need what he didn’t have.
Best to keep it simple. All he wanted for Christmas this year was a dance.
Customers had been in and out of the boutique all day, and thank goodness it had been a mostly happy crowd. Olive hadn’t been tempted to strangle or trip anyone. She credited her early morning walk on the beach to her own improved mood. Maybe she could get used to this retail gig. Temporarily, of course.
Christmas spirit ran rampant through Seawolf Beach. Several of the customers knew one another and visited as they shopped. They discussed upcoming parties, cookie recipes, and school holiday programs. A concert, a play, a group of carolers. It was almost enough to make Olive look at Christmas differently. Almost .
Susan Merriweather returned for her green blouse, which she said she’d dreamed about the night before. Even she was pleasant. Things were looking up.
One young woman had been noticeably stressed, but when with Olive’s help she found just the right gift for her mother, she relaxed, smiled, and left Dawn’s Radiance with a spring in her step.
Olive’s own parents would be here a few days before Christmas. They’d offered to come help with the girls when Dawn had to go on bed rest, but that would’ve meant cancelling their long-planned cruise and with Mike’s folks and Olive here, it wasn’t necessary.
She had the feeling Mike didn’t consider his in-laws all that much help. Olive couldn’t really argue with him on that point. Her parents were free spirits, retired travelers. They found fun wherever they went. The December cruise had been on their calendar for a while, but any time of the year they might decide on a whim to travel someplace new. With a map and no plans whatsoever, they’d hit the road.
She’d wondered more than once if she was adopted.
With less than an hour until closing time, the crowd thinned. Olive had plans for her evening. First a stop by Dawn’s house to check on everyone, then she’d swing by that little restaurant she liked so much and get a big salad to go. Pajamas, a little TV, a couple chapters of her book, then blessed sleep. Tomorrow she’d start all over again. If the weather cooperated, maybe she’d get in another walk on the beach before work.
She was rearranging a rack of blouses in the back of the room when the bell over the door jingled. Drat! There were just a few minutes until closing time. She gave a mental double drat when she saw who’d walked in.
Tuck was a friend of Mike’s, a good neighbor who didn’t mind rushing into her house to save the day when she thought she’d been reverse burgled. But he also made her itchy all over. No, those were not pleasant tingles. The itchiness had to be a warning of some sort. Olive was a cautious person. She never ignored a warning.
“I can’t imagine there’s anything here in your style,” she said as she approached the counter.
Tuck looked up, down, all around. “Very funny, Ms. Carson. As I’m sure you know, I’m not shopping for myself. I need a few Christmas presents.”
Of course he did. She’d thought earlier that he was single, but a guy like this one must have a girlfriend. Maybe more than one. Did he have family to buy for? Mother, sisters, aunts. She didn’t know him well enough to be sure. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“Something pretty.”
That wasn’t helpful. “Who are you buying these gifts for?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Just… women.”
Just women wasn’t at all helpful. “You’re going to have to be more specific.” Today had gone well and she felt like she was getting into a groove, but in the end retail was definitely not her thing.
Tuck walked to the back of the store where there was a big display of scarves and hats. “Who are you shopping for?” she asked, just a little bit testy. She hoped frustration didn’t show in her voice, but that was a wasted hope .
He removed one pretty blue scarf from the rack, then a springy looking flowered one. He checked out the prices. The scarves were very nice and not cheap, but he didn’t flinch. No, he tossed the two scarves over his shoulder, then randomly grabbed six more and walked to the checkout counter.
“You want all of these?” Olive asked. She didn’t get a commission, she wasn’t getting paid at all, but this was Dawn’s business and with two kids, soon to be three, she needed her boutique to thrive. It would be foolish to question a good sale.
“I might be back for more,” he said as he dropped the scarves onto the counter. “Oh, can I have one of those fancy little Dawn’s Radiance bags for each scarf?”
“How many girlfriends do you have?” Olive blurted. Whoops. Mistake. She did not care…
“Zero, at the moment,” Tuck answered.
Hmm. She shouldn’t be so curious. It was none of her business. Still, she asked, “Sisters?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Aunts? Cousins?”
He smiled, sending a maddeningly charming grin in her direction. “You really want to know who these scarves are for, don’t you?”
“I couldn’t care less,” she said as she rang up the purchases.
He laughed, a little. It was a nice laugh, she had to admit. “You don’t play poker at all, I suspect. Your face tells everything, Olive Carson.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d heard that accusation.
“I’m practicing the art of carrying on meaningful conversations with customers. I’m new at it, so… forget everything I said.” Judging by the expression on his face, Tuck didn’t, wouldn’t , forget anything.
“I’m a volunteer firefighter,” he said. “Every year at Christmas we collect gifts for those who might not have much or hell, anything without help. This year we’re running a little low on gifts for the older ladies on the list.”
“I don’t want to ruin a sale, but you can probably buy a hundred scarves at Walmart for what you’re paying here for eight.”
Tuck leaned on the counter, moving in a little, not quite invading her space but looking as if he might. “I could, but Christmas gifts should be special. Imagine the excitement when a woman who expects nothing gets a little Dawn’s Radiance bag with a beautiful, extravagant scarf inside.”
Oh, no. This was awful. Tuck wasn’t just hot. He was more than handsome and charming and chivalrous. He was nice .
“What about your family? Anyone there you need to shop for?”
“I don’t have any family,” Tuck said.
Foot, meet mouth . “Sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“No worries.”
He was quiet while she wrapped each scarf in tissue paper and placed it in its own small bag. From her experience, Tuck was never quiet. He said no worries , but he looked a little worried to her. Family must be a sore subject.
When she finished bagging the final scarf, her last customer of the day got a text alert and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He read the text, but didn’t bother to answer. “I had no idea it was so late. I’ve kept you past closing time.”
“I don’t mind sticking around for a good sale,” she said. “Don’t you need to answer your text?”
He shook his head and put the phone back in his pocket. “It can wait. I really do feel bad about keeping you here late. Let me buy you dinner to make up for it.”
Olive almost blurted out a quick no , but something stopped her. She complained about her family all the time. Her mother was always telling her what to do. Advice flowed freely, and for the past five years or so, constantly. She was constantly arguing with her mom that she wasn’t stuck, that she didn’t need to move on.
Dawn had a pretty much perfect life, but that life was so chaotic too much time together eventually made Olive crazy. Her dad… she loved her dad but he was overly protective. And forgetful. And he told the worst jokes. But they were her family and she loved them, warts and all.
Tuck had no one. How was that possible? She wanted to know. Against all reason, she wanted to know more about Nate Tucker.
“Why not?” What did she have to lose?