Chapter 10
The week disappeared on Madeline. She’d thought she was ready to simply flip the sign to open and unlock the doors, but there were more last-minute things to do than she’d realized.
She wanted cupcakes for opening day, so she went to Sweet Treats, a cute little independent bakery she’d discovered weeks ago and indulged at frequently.
She’d never officially introduced herself, though, despite having become a regular.
Now, sharing what the special order was for, she was flattered by how excited Annie and Lita, the young couple who owned Sweet Treats, were for her.
Annie’s always-pink face flushed even deeper with delight for her, and her big blue eyes shone. “Don’t worry about picking them up. We’ll deliver them ourselves first thing before you open. We’d been wondering who owns that adorable place. We talk about it every time we drive by!”
“Yes, and we want to talk to you about the antique breadboard in your front window.” Lita’s shiny black pigtails bobbed as she nodded vigorously to emphasize her words.
The breadboard was only visible from the front window if you pressed your face to the glass and strained to see things. Madeline smiled. So here were two of her lookie-loos—and they couldn’t be nicer.
“I can’t wait. See you then.”
She also spent time helping Aisha put final touches on her displays and trying out different presentation styles for some of her smaller items, so they weren’t lost amidst the larger, instantly eye-grabbing pieces.
It wasn’t all fun, though. Just before Madeline went home on Opening Day Eve, the toilet in the already-problematic bathroom broke.
It was an easy enough fix—the chain in the tank just had to be replaced, but it meant a trip to the hardware store, which—she checked her watch—was closing in half an hour.
Grateful she’d installed a litterbox and food dishes in the shop, so Boots could be equally as comfortable there as he was at home with her, she gave him a fish-shaped treat and a kiss on the nose.
“Hold down the fort. I’ll be back in a flash.” He widened his eyes as if horrified by the suggestion of something as menial as watchdog duty, making her laugh.
Madeline’s phone buzzed as she stood in the checkout line, waiting as an incredibly chatty cashier rang in the customer ahead of her.
Noting the caller’s name with surprise, Madeline shot a glance at the amount of stuff still on the conveyor belt and took the call.
She was familiar with this cashier’s gift of the gab from when she’d been shopping for reno materials.
She’d have more than enough time to answer.
“Hello, Grant Graham. Fancy hearing from you.” She must’ve spoken too loudly or too cheerily or something because the cashier and the other customer glanced her way. She lowered her voice. “What’s up?”
There was a pause. Maybe he’d pocket-dialed her by mistake—though she wouldn’t have thought he had her number in his contacts.
Or perhaps he’d added it after her visit the other day?
She was about to end the call when he spoke in a tone that would’ve made Eeyore sound positively giddy.
“I wanted to wish you good luck for tomorrow.”
“Well, thank you very much. Are you going to come by? There’ll be cupcakes.”
“What? No, no. I don’t really—no.” She could see his scowl in her mind’s eye and knew he was shaking his head. Just knew it! She bit back a laugh. And what did he mean by “I don’t really . . .”? He didn’t really what? He was so weird.
“Yeah, well, that’s it. It’s a nice place. You should do well.”
“Well, thanks.”
“Okay, then . . . Bye.”
Madeline did laugh then. She thought she was awkward sometimes, but man, he was the king. “Bye, Grant. Thanks for calling. See you next week.”
“Yes. Okay.”
Their connection broke, and Madeline wondered if that was why he’d actually phoned—to make sure she was still planning to come and help out as promised.
The cashier took the toilet lift chain part Madeline handed her and gave her an openly appraising once-over. “I didn’t know you knew Grant.”
“I’m sorry?” Madeline said distractedly.
The cashier motioned at the phone Madeline still held. “I happened to overhear. Grant Graham—he’s such a sweetheart, eh?”
The woman had a great straight face, and Madeline chuckled with appreciative gusto. “Oh, yes, totally. Such a dear.”
The cashier looked confused—which made Madeline suddenly confused too. Surely, the woman wasn’t serious. “Sorry, maybe we’re talking about different people?”
“There’s only one Grant Graham in town,” the cashier said stiffly. “Anyone local knows him well, and yes, that’s who I was talking about. A gem of a man. So kind. So generous.”
It was crystal clear what the woman thought of both “non-locals” and people who didn’t think highly enough of Grant, but Madeline couldn’t help herself.
“Grant Graham?” she repeated, unable to keep the incredulous note out of her voice.
“Yes, Grant Graham,” the cashier snapped.
“We’re a small town—and he’s not the kind of man to get mistaken for anybody else.
” She moved back from the counter slightly, crossed her arms over her chest, and gave Madeline a decidedly cool stare.
Apparently, they could only be friendly so long as Madeline didn’t say anything hurtful about Grant, “the sweetheart.”
Madeline stifled a snicker as she took her bag from the end of the counter. The very thought of anyone describing Grant the way the clerk had was hilarious. She was practically doe-eyed!
Her mirth trickled away as she walked to her car, though.
Because of Grant’s demeanor and his surly reply “No one!” when she’d asked if there was anyone to give him a hand with his father’s place, she’d assumed that he, like her, was new to Greenridge—and alone, without friends or close associates nearby.
Bizarrely, now that she thought about it, she’d felt as if she had insider knowledge about Grant Graham.
Really though, the cashier was right. She was completely new on the scene.
Pretty much everyone and anyone knew him better than she did.
Sure, she knew he’d lost his dad—and with all the literal baggage there, there was no doubt a ton of psychological baggage as well.
And she wasn’t sure why exactly—his defensiveness around her, perhaps—but she suspected he’d had a long-term relationship go belly-up too.
She’d assumed pain or loss lay beneath his prickly exterior, and that had made her feel like they had something in common, but maybe that was a delusion on her part.
She was lonely and seeing kinship where none existed.
Was it possible that he’d been an entirely different person before his losses and that the cashier’s insinuations were correct—that she didn’t know the real him at all? Or the other real him, that is?
Madeline clicked her key fob and climbed into her van. “You’re not the same person you were before losing Lyle, Lauren, and Ronny, either,” she whispered, loading her purchases into the car. “How would people who knew you before describe you compared to someone who met you now?”
But it was a rhetorical question. There was no one left who really knew her now. The knowledge wasn’t comforting.
She slammed the trunk’s door harder than necessary.