Chapter 16 #3
Madeline misted up, happy for Gwen, but also realizing she’d be no help in this area at least. Then, as Gwen picked up her shopping bag once more, her eyes glinted mischievously, making her look years younger.
“Or, to be more accurate, we loved each other dearly during any years, months, and random moments that we didn’t totally hate each other, that is. ”
A blurt of surprised laughter burst from Madeline—so loud, the two elderly shoppers looked her way and smiled too.
Madeline pressed a hand to her chest, relief pummeling her like a physical force—so strong it hurt.
“You can’t know how much I needed to hear that.
I . . .” She had no desire to laugh now, and her voice dropped.
“I loved my husband too. I did. But . . . I feel so guilty . . .”
“You guys weren’t in a good place when he died?”
Madeline could barely nod.
“You can’t beat yourself up for that. It could happen to any long-married person.”
“I don’t know—”
“Well, I do. Think of it this way. If you’d died, would you want your husband to feel extra terrible just because every little thing wasn’t peachy between you when you passed?”
“Well, actually . . . ”
Gwen laughed as Madeline had intended her to, just as the door’s bells jingled again and Grant walked in. He and Gwen made eye contact and exchanged hellos and how-are-yous—and Madeline was reminded, yet again, of just how small Greenridge was. Of course, Gwen and Grant knew each other.
Madeline smiled and held up one finger. “I’ll just be one minute.”
Grant nodded and moved to check out a display of antique doorknobs and drawer pulls. Gwen waved and started toward the door again.
“Wait,” Madeline called, grabbing an empty bag from under the counter and rushing to her window display. “Don’t forget your purchase.”
Gwen turned back, looking bewildered as Madeline appeared at her side with the vintage picnic tin. “Oh, you must’ve misunderstood. I . . . I can’t buy that,” she stuttered.
Madeline slid the cute set into the bag and pushed it into Gwen’s hand. “It’s a gift, but”—her gaze slid meaningfully around the store—“I couldn’t very well announce that to the world.”
“That’s very kind, but I can’t accept.”
“You can, and you will. It’s so hard when you’re raising a young family to justify spending money on frivolous things.”
“But—”
“No buts. You’d be doing me a favor, actually.”
“Uh-huh.”
“No, seriously.”
“And what’s that?”
“It’s a great way to force you to bring your grandkids here for a picnic in the yard, no excuses.”
Gwen raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, that would be a big favor on my part. For sure.”
“So, you accept? Good.”
“No. I love it, but it’s too much.”
Madeline shook her head. “It’s really not, and it would make me happy to imagine you guys using it.” She dropped her voice even lower. “Please take it.”
“Okay, okay,” Gwen finally acquiesced, smiling. “Thank you—and I accept your invitation to picnic in your yard, too. Since all I do is look after kids, I have nothing better to do anyway.”
Madeline laughed at the gibe directed at Monika’s comment, relieved that the tiny awkwardness of the impromptu gift was smoothed away.
“But just so you know, once we’re all here tearing up your yard, it will be too late to rescind the offer.”
Madeline winked. “I’ve been warned.”
“Yes,” Gwen said with a grin that knocked twenty years off her.
“Okay, but now, before you go, I do have to point out one slightly uncomfortable thing.”
A flicker of concern creased Gwen’s face. “Oh, really? What?”
“We both owe Cruella a good turn. If not for her, we might never have started really talking.”
Gwen was laughing as she left.
Grant came over to Madeline the moment the door shut behind Gwen. “I see you’re busy, and I won’t keep you. I just wanted to see if you want to do dinner.”
“Yes, please!”
Grant smiled but then shot a curious look toward the door. “What was that all about?”
“What was what all about?”
“Did you give Gwen that picnic box thingamajig for free?”
“Yes,” Madeline said happily. She was tickled just thinking about how excited the kids would be when they saw it. There was something about miniature things, matching sets, and nestling objects that children seemed universally intrigued and delighted by.
Grant’s eyebrows rose. “That’s kind of a backward way to try and build a business, isn’t it?”
Annoyance flared through Madeline. Why did he feel he had the right to comment on her business, she thought, and immediately felt her age.
When she’d been a younger woman, she’d been much more vulnerable to unsolicited advice and wasted a lot of time second-guessing herself—to the point that while she’d wanted to work for herself for years, she’d been too petrified to take those first steps and used her skills to bolster other people’s plans instead.
It wasn’t all bad—she’d learned a lot along the way—and it would’ve even been good if it had been what she felt satisfied doing, but it wasn’t.
For the zillionth time, she wished she could see Lauren again, to tell her she’d moved from dreaming to doing.
Lauren would’ve been happy—but also would’ve teased her, not being one who was easily cowed herself.
But along with more confidence in her own vision, Madeline was also no longer compelled to try to defend her actions or thoughts. She shrugged at Grant. “Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re wrong. Either way, giving random surprises is a really nice way to build your life.”
He looked surprised like the idea had never occurred to him. “I guess it is, at that. So . . . see you 7:00-ish?”
Madeline grinned and nodded, then turned her attention to the happy shoppers.
As she wandered the floor, chatting with each person and seeing if she could help find anything special, a small infusion of joy warmed every one of her greetings.
She was talking to people who were out and about with their friends, enjoying their day—and she had a new friend as well. Two of them, in fact.