Chapter 28
It was strange that Grant hadn’t heard from Madeline since the night she’d called him with the bad news about Boots.
And it wasn’t like he hadn’t reached out to her.
He’d texted so many times without getting any replies back the past four days that he’d checked with his service provider to make sure his phone was working right.
He drove past The Second Chance Shop several times.
It was always open, business as usual, so she was all right physically, anyway.
He would’ve stopped in person, but every time he did a drive-by, feeling increasingly stalkerish, it was so busy, he didn’t want to intrude.
And his recent evenings had been . . . full.
That was part of why he was so eager to see her.
Yes, to confirm she was okay, but also because he had so many surprising and wonderful—or he hoped they were wonderful, anyway—things to run past her.
Finally, he gave up on hinting. “What’s up with you? Why aren’t you answering? Are you okay? Send me something back, even if it’s just a thumbs-up. I’m starting to worry.”
His phone rang almost immediately, and he hit Talk without checking the call display. So happy—almost relieved—to hear from Madeline that he was unable to refrain from being corny, he answered with a boisterous, “Hello there, stranger!”
There was a breath of dead space, then a woman—definitely not Madeline—spoke hesitantly. “Grant?”
Grant recognized the shy voice immediately. “Gwen! Hey, sorry—thought you were Madeline.”
He could hear Gwen’s smile in her voice. “She does make a person cheery, doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” he agreed, and it felt amazing to have another Madeline fan to talk about Madeline with.
“Anyway,” Gwen rushed on, “I only have a minute, but I wanted to let you know. I found him—and you were right! Good call.”
Grant fist-pumped the air as Gwen quickly filled him in on the details and then said she’d text him the address. Yes! This week was only getting better, and now, whether Madeline was swamped or not, he was definitely going to interrupt her at work.
“Thanks, Gwennifer,” he said, using a silly nickname from their grade school years that he hadn’t even remembered until now, making her laugh. “I owe you.”
“You do not.”
The instant he ended their call, his phone buzzed with two incoming texts—the address as promised by Gwen and one from Madeline. Finally.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to worry you. Was trying to give you breathing room.”
Breathing room? What the heck did that mean? Ah, well, he’d get to the bottom of the cryptic comment when he saw her in half an hour. For now, he settled for, “I breathe better with you close by. You know that.”
It was kind of a cheesy thing to say, but just one of the things he’d realized this momentous week that he wanted to discuss with Madeline was that he wasn’t doing himself or her any favors by holding back how he really felt.
Madeline sent a rolling eyes emoji. It was good to see it. She was obviously fine, probably just busy like he had been.
The first part of the mission took longer than Grant thought it would because it turned out he knew the folks at the address Gwen directed him to, and he stood around gabbing for a while.
The delay was a blessing in disguise because when he opened the door to The Second Chance Shop, it was five minutes till closing, and there weren’t any last-minute shoppers.
Thus, no one was around to witness the emotional scene when Grant placed a fat, disgruntled bundle into Madeline’s arms. “Here’s your cat back,” he said simply.
“And he’s all yours, like permanently, so no fears going ahead. ”
Madeline’s face blanched, and she opened her mouth, shut it, opened it again—then shook her head once, swallowing hard.
Boots butted her chin, and Grant winced; the cat was a monster.
His head bumps looked painful—but Madeline seemed to like it.
She gave a wobbly smile. “I don’t understand.
How did you manage this? I didn’t even know who took him—and how did you ever get them to part with him again? ”
“Well, first off . . . I had the idea to try to get him back, but Gwen did all the legwork. She mentioned to Kelsey over at Jack’s Hardware that your cat had finally been claimed, but how it was sort of a mystery why it had taken so long for them to step forward.
Kelsey didn’t know anything about it, but when Gwen popped back to the hardware store not even twenty-four hours later, Kelsey had the name of the family and all the ‘dirt’ about their extended trip—”
Madeline held up a hand. “I get the picture.” She raised her voice over Boots’ now-roaring purr—and Grant felt sure the cat was mostly turning the volume up to drown him out. “But why did they agree to let me have him back?”
Grant smiled and touched her cheek. “I told them—only in point form, I promise—about how much he means to you and why, and well, they have three other pets that they find a lot more agreeable than him, plus they’d written him off as a goner, so . . . It wasn’t that hard at all, actually.”
Madeline stared at him.
“I hope I haven’t screwed up. I didn’t tell them much, I promise, just—”
“No, it wouldn’t matter if you told them everything. I can’t believe it. I’m overwhelmed—but I still don’t really get it. You don’t even like Boots.”
“I don’t not like him.”
Madeline raised a dubious eyebrow, and Boots twitched an ear.
Grant laughed. “Okay, well, more importantly, I really like you.”
Madeline bit her lip, her eyes wet. She nodded.
In unspoken agreement, they settled on two curve-seated stools by the front counter.
Grant was about to launch into possible solutions for her van and bathroom needs, but Madeline beat him to the punch.
Her face was radiant as she explained about Luke and Matt and the not-completely-unaffordable van fix—and even better, the “miraculous and so sweet” offer from Aisha and Jase regarding the bathroom repair and renovation.
She looked down when she was finished speaking, then fiddled with Boots’ rhinestone-studded blue satin collar, which his old owners hadn’t removed. When she met Grant’s eyes again, she looked . . . almost as if she felt guilty or something.
“Even with all my wonderful news and how generous and kind people are being, I was still feeling a bit flat, but now?” Her normally low voice was high-pitched with happiness, and Grant’s heart rose with it.
“Having Boots back? It makes all the difference. I can’t even begin to—just .
. . thank you, Grant. So much. I mean it. ”
“You’re very welcome, but also, it really was the least I could do after all you’ve done for me.”
Madeline shook her head, dismissing his thanks, and Grant shared the first part of his own good news.
“My insurance broker responded to my last batch of photos. I can get regular insurance on my dad’s place.
No more conditional coverage and extra fees, etc.
There’s still a ton of work to do, of course, but I’m closer to being able to put up a for-sale sign all the time—and not having to tell potential buyers it’s uninsurable is a huge bonus. ”
Madeline’s smile froze. “Are you still sure you want to sell it, though?”
The question caught Grant off guard. “Of course. Absolutely. One hundred percent!” He didn’t get a chance to elaborate or share his other good news and possibly brilliant ideas, however.
The bell on the door jangled, and Holly entered, her son Ryder on her hip. Grant gaped at them, stunned. Why were they here?
A curious expression crossed Holly’s face as she looked around. “What’s that smell?”
“What do you mean?” Madeline asked, and Grant hoped Holly wasn’t about to be rude.
“I’m not sure, exactly. Lavender and dish soap, maybe? Like my favorite aunt’s house!” Holly looked surprised, then wistful. “Yes, exactly like that. She died when I was a little girl. I haven’t thought of her so specifically in years.”
Grant didn’t know what to say. The Second Chance Shop did not smell like lavender. He hated the smell of lavender! Holly was clearly out to lunch—and yet, Madeline looked thoughtful.
“It’s funny. A lot of people comment on the scent in here, but everyone describes it slightly differently.
I think maybe it’s related to nostalgia.
Perhaps items we subconsciously recognize from our pasts bring us back to places in our memories where we’ve been happy or something, and our brains fill in the scents. ”
“Hmm,” Holly said, but her open expression was already closing.
“You seem to have thought about this a lot,” Grant said.
“A bit,” Madeline replied. “Just because it comes up so often. You’re like me, right? You smell hints of lemon and peppermint.”
Grant inhaled appreciatively. “Yep,” he said and left it at that, though what he wanted to say was, Yes, I’m just like you. We’re the same.
Holly gave him a sharp look that didn’t fit with her next sickly-sweet coo, “Anyway, you are sooooo right, Grant. This place is totally adorable.”
Of course, he was right. Why would he lie about something like that? But maybe it explained why she was here? Maybe she wanted to shop? A bit strange though . . . At his dad’s place, she’d laughed at the idea of “musty old things” being a viable shop “theme.”
Madeline was watching him patiently but didn’t seem very curious. That wasn’t like her. Still, though he’d have been happiest if Madeline and Holly never had to meet, he’d better introduce them before it got weird.
“So, uh, Madeline, this is Holly—and Ryder.”
“I suspected! Hello, Holly. Hello, Ryder.” Her voice was friendly enough, but Grant noticed her smile didn’t suffuse her whole face the way it usually did.
“And Holly, Ryder—this is Madeline. My good . . . friend.”
“I also suspected.” Holly, bizarrely, sounded chilly. What was her glitch? Why come to the shop he’d mentioned in passing if she wasn’t interested in it? And why be rude to Madeline?