Chapter 1 #6
Outside, the air is crisp, and the sky a brilliant clear blue.
Groups of people are now clustered around the street, couples strolling hand-in-hand window shopping, parents chasing wayward toddlers.
The flower baskets on the light posts are bursting with flowers.
It’s idyllic; a modern Rockwell painting and I’m an outsider, watching life happen all around me from just out of frame.
Snap out of it Paige! I’m so tired of this moping version of myself. I need to start being the person who isn’t afraid of getting weird and taking risks. The Book of John a place you would want to hang out.
I cleared out a section in the back to make a seating area with a couple of couches and chairs.
I replaced some of the bookcases that crowded the center of the store with tables and that opens up the space beautifully.
The biggest change, however, is the children’s loft space. Originally, there had been a tiny office and an extra storage room up there, but I converted it to one large open area that overlooks the entire store. We call it the Kids’ Clubhouse and now host a monthly story hour. It’s my pride and joy.
I had dreams of opening a coffee bar at the back of the store, but to say Nana was not a fan of that idea would be an understatement.
“Paige, take a deep breath,” she’d said when I suggested it originally.
“Do you smell that? That’s the smell of genius, of romance, of history, of human expression.
Do you really want to cover all that up with beans? ”
Even though she’s long gone now, I think about her every single day. Keeping Pages free of the delicious smell of hand roasted coffee beans even though it pains me to do so is one of my tributes to her memory.
It’s such a beautiful, clear day and being outside is doing wonders for my anxiety, so I decide to continue my walk down the block.
A couple doors down from Pages is a new nail salon I haven’t tried out yet, and I consider treating myself for a manicure until the woman at the front desk lets me know they are fully booked until Wednesday, so I scrap that idea.
There’s a cute new window display at Willow Bark, the fancy home goods store that is way above my price range.
The drool-worthy set up of new stoneware and Pendleton blankets has me quickly moving on to the next store before I cave and splurge on something I’ll regret later.
Next to Willow Bark is Seize the Carp, a sporting goods store that caters to the thousands of fly-fishing fanatics that pilgrimage here.
I have no issues quickly passing by Seize the Carp.
The last thing I need is fishing gear, and unless they’re offering a sale on single men aged 30-45, I can’t imagine they stock anything that floats ye olde boat.
The final store on this block is the La Supérette, a specialty grocery store that stocks things like tinned fish from Europe and French table linens.
I’ve only been in there once and was strong armed into buying a salami that cost me nearly $40 for less than a pound but was one of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten.
Silvercreek has been in the midst of a development boom the past several years.
People from the city with cash to burn and a desire for ‘space and natural beauty’ have flocked here and snatched up all the available real estate.
Just as I’m passing La Supérette, I catch a glimpse of a perfectly coifed blond couple walking arm in arm down the pasta aisle.
My heart instantly seizes and I skitter backwards so they can’t see me.
I turn and press my back against the cool of the brick wall until my lungs can draw breath again.
Shit. Was it them? Silvercreek has plenty of fancy looking couples.
No reason to assume it’s the perfectly coifed blond couple that haunt my nightmares.
I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the windows across the street.
Strands of hair have escaped my topknot, which from this distance looks like a squirrel has taken up residence on my head.
Staying in town has lost its appeal. Even if that couple wasn’t them, the next couple that rounds the corner very well could be.
I hightail it down the street back towards my car like I’m being chased by a ghost.