Chapter 2
Lorna
Frederick refills my wineglass as Ada and I release contented sighs.
"That was damn good, you guys," I say with an air of satisfaction.
"We felt like you deserved a good meal after all of your moving drama," Frederick says, sitting back down.
"So glad that's over with. Hopefully, that's my last ever big move like that."
Ada smiles. "I'm still amazed you found a place that had its own glass blowing studio."
"You know who I have to thank for that, right?" I ask.
Ada nods, but her husband arches an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Lady Merla. Her fortune led Ada to you, but mine had to simmer a bit."
"What was yours?" He asks.
"All she told me was that when I am ready to move on, everything will be in place."
"What the heck does that mean?" He asks.
"Well, I had no idea at the time, but now, since I'm past that point, I see exactly what she meant.
I had mulled over moving away from Maryland for years, but when Ada finally did it, I started thinking about it more.
And then one day, I just woke up in the middle of the night and decided to search for places in Sea Glass.
Before I even logged into my laptop, I thought about how I wanted a home where I could have my own glass blowing studio.
And lo-and-behold, the very first house for sale that I found is the one I bought. "
Frederick laughs out loud.
"And your house already had that glass blowing studio built in the detached garage!"
"Yep. Crazy, isn't it?"
I begin to clear the dishes.
"You're our guest," they say in unison.
"Doesn't mean I can't put some dishes in the sink."
When I return to the table to grab a few more plates, I ask, "Hey, isn't your wedding anniversary coming up?"
"This Saturday, in fact," Ada says.
"Any big plans?"
"Dinner at the Driftwood Room," she says.
"Dang. You guys know how to live in style," I quip.
When it's time for me to head home, I bundle up in my winter coat and wool beanie. Ada follows me to the door.
"So, are you sure you won't need any help with your booth at the Christmas fair?" She asks.
"I don't think so. Probably next year I'll have way more wares. But my booth is pretty tiny for this year's."
"Okay," she says, "but let me know if you change your mind before that weekend. Alright?"
I give her a hug goodbye.
Packing up my booth on Saturday evening, I smile to myself.
I'm glad the house's previous owner told me about how well he did selling his glassware at this holiday market.
I made an impressive haul for my first day.
Even though I can easily walk home from Main Street, I have my car for all the various boxes.
This is the one and only time I wish Ada was here to help me, but I manage to get everything shoved in the car within a few minutes.
Pulling into my driveway, I can't help but admire my new home.
This house was such a perfect find. Built when the town was founded, it has gone through several renovations, but has never lost its historical charm.
The garage, built in the eighties, sits at the end of my driveway.
The previous owner kept one side for parking, but created a room for the left half, turning it into a glass blowing studio.
And although I'm not going to stop being a tax accountant, I hope to build up my newly created glass blowing small business, Saltwind Studios.
On Sunday, the holiday fair is hopping. Many people are brunching at the Main Street restaurants, then strolling through the booths. I have sold out of my handmade glass ornaments. I make a mental note to increase production of those.
The December air is biting against the skin, but the sun provides a hint of warmth. I love the way the sunlight looks hitting my displayed glass creations. This catches the attention of children walking by as well and they dance through the colorful beams of light on the pavement.
At lunch, I order a protein fruit smoothie from the stand next to me.
It gives me goosebumps drinking it in this chilly air, but it was the easiest thing I could grab for lunch.
While I suck on the straw, tasting creamy strawberry goodness, my eyes catch a tall, broad-shouldered figure heading in my direction.
As he walks toward me, my pulse starts racing the closer he gets.
And when he stops in front of my booth, I stare into his dark brown eyes, slowly removing the straw from my lips.