Chapter Eight
Amariah
For the past two days, business at the store had picked up.
The steady traffic kept Jacob and me busy and conveniently distant.
Aside from tending to customers and restocking shelves, we hadn’t spoken since that lunch at Sister Johnson’s.
It was as if we’d silently agreed to avoid each other, and neither of us broke the quiet truce.
Still, the moment replayed in my mind on a loop as I tried to figure out how I might have come across as offensive.
Deep down, though, I knew Jacob’s abruptness had less to do with what I said and more with what was left unsaid between us.
So, we danced around the tension, using the store as both our buffer and our neutral ground.
It was the day before Thanksgiving, and although the store was closed, I wanted to finish the outdoor Christmas decorations before Black Friday.
I planned to open early and run two-hour sales throughout the day to catch the holiday crowd.
Tools, home goods, and specialty items were ideal gift options, so placing power tools, appliances, and seasonal decorations front and center was the best way to draw people in.
If the outside looked festive and welcoming, customers would feel that holiday pull before they even stepped through the door.
I figured I’d finish everything that morning before helping my mama start Thanksgiving dinner.
With no customers and no Jacob, I could finally work uninterrupted.
Stepping outside with a box of decorations and posters, I set them by the entrance and blew into my hands.
The air was icy, and I was eager to get back to my parents’ warm house.
I reached into my jacket pocket for my gloves and found nothing.
I checked my jeans, then crouched to look in the box before remembering I’d left them on my office desk.
I hurried back inside, grabbed the gloves, and was halfway to the door when the bells chimed.
The rush of winter air swirled through the store, carrying the scents of sawdust and cinnamon from the decorations I’d hung last week.
And then I saw him.
Jacob stood by the counter, holding a coffee in one hand and a tool bag in the other. At first, my instinct almost made me turn right back around. Almost. Our eyes met, both of us pausing in surprise.
He tilted his head slightly, his expression softening. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I replied, my tone polite and clipped. I started toward the door, but I felt Jacob’s gentle touch on my elbow.
He set down his coffee and the tool bag, exhaling softly. “Amariah, can we talk?”
I froze, torn between wanting to hear him out and wanting to protect the fragile peace we’d built over the past few days. “About what?”
“About me,” he said simply, “and how I acted at the restaurant.”
That caught me off guard, paralyzing me in place as my brows dipped in curiosity.
He took a slow step closer, eyes steady. “I owe you an apology. I’ve been short, stubborn, and…well, kind of an ass since you came back.”
At that admission, my brow lifted. “Kind of?”
He offered a small, humble smile. “Alright. Completely an ass.”
That made me laugh. It was gentle, but genuine. “You said it, not me.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing toward the shelves stacked with paint cans.
“When you came back, I didn’t know how to handle it.
You’ve got all these ideas, all this energy, and I thought maybe you were just here to change things, not to understand them.
But that wasn’t fair. You were trying to help. ”
I crossed my arms, watching him carefully. “You were protecting my dad.”
“That’s the thing, though. So were you. His legacy.
” He let out a small sigh, shoulders slumping as he leaned against the counter.
“You have your way of handling business, and I had no right to question that. Considering what your family is going through with your father’s condition, I know it’s a lot on you, and I was out of line. ”
Warmth bloomed in my chest at his sincerity.
Truth be told, he wasn’t entirely wrong.
My way of coping with my father’s declining health was to throw myself into fix-it mode.
My father’s condition was something I couldn’t control, so I focused on what I could, helping around the house and running the store.
Still, I could have been a little more subtle with Jacob.
My body relaxed as I uncrossed my arms, a toothless smile on my face. “Well, I appreciate that, but it’s not all on you. I kind of did come in here like a bull in a China shop.”
He shrugged, a soft chuckle escaping. “You said it, not me.”
Rolling my eyes playfully with a giggle, I offered, “I’m sorry, too.”
The sun finally peeked through the clouds, casting a beautiful array of beams on the cold, dreary day.
The rays spilled through the windows, illuminating Jacob’s jawline with a soft glow that highlighted the sheen of his lushly groomed beard and reflected off his warm, coffee-colored eyes.
His expression was sincere, and his posture was receptive.
His soft gaze found mine. “Guess we both made mistakes.”
“Guess we did,” I echoed.
Our shared sentiment felt as if there was so much more significance behind it. Neither of us spoke for a moment. The hum of the old heater filled the silence, mingled with the soft creaking sounds from the back room. It was an ordinary morning, but somehow, it felt anything but ordinary.
Jacob finally broke the silence, his voice low. “How about we start over? No tension. No pretenses. Just…cordial.”
“Cordial,” I repeated, biting back a smile. “That’s such a grown-up word.”
“Better than complicated,” he said, smiling back.
I held out my hand. “Alright then, Mr. Gold. Truce?”
He looked down at my hand, then took it, his grip warm and firm. “Truce.”
Maybe it was how close in proximity we stood, or maybe it was the way his thumb brushed just slightly against my hand before he let go, but something about that moment told me “cordial” wasn’t as simple as it sounded.
He blinked and stepped out of our shared space. The movement broke our fixed trance. Clearing his throat, he picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. “Why are you here this morning?”
“Finishing up the outside decorations and hanging the advertisement posters. I can’t believe people are still into in-person shopping.”
Jacob shook his head. “It must be a strange phenomenon to you.”
I shrugged. “Haha! Funny,” I sneered, tooting my nose. “Online shopping has always been huge in the city, but after COVID, it skyrocketed.”
“Since Skye Ridge is still more of a brick-and-mortar town, how about I help you?”
“I don’t want to stop you from what you were here to do.” I shook my head. “Which was what exactly?” I asked out of curiosity.
“Replacing the fill valve on the toilet in the men’s restroom.”
I pointed at him. “That’s definitely a ‘you’ thing.”
Chuckling, he folded his arms. “Yeah, I kinda figured you wouldn’t want to tackle that. But it’s all good. Replacing that fill valve will only take me about fifteen minutes, tops. I can help you, replace that, and be out of here within the hour.”
As cold as it was and as much as I wanted to be back home, who was I to turn down help? Besides, it had been a long time since Jacob and I teamed up for anything. We used to have the best times. Maybe the holiday spirit could bring some of that back.
“I’d appreciate that.” I offered him a gentle smile.
When he smiled back, something warm fluttered through me again.
“Any time, Mari.”