Chapter Two
Erica hadn’t realized how much time had passed until Tracy and Burt left and all the boxes were distributed to their respective rooms. Looking around her new home, she knew she’d need new furniture.
Her skimpy futon couch, particle-board end tables, and the folding card table in the breakfast nook off the kitchen were almost painful to look at against beautifully carved chair rails and flowered wallpaper.
She needed good, vintage furniture worthy of a place this gorgeous.
Images of patterned cushions and marble-topped coffee tables came to mind, along with a hefty price tag.
As soon as her business took off, she’d put all her profits toward fixing up the interior, along with the accents to make it even more stunning.
She wanted her clients to be transported the moment they walked through the doors, just as she had been.
They would expect old-world grandeur, not a poor, contemporary excuse for a dining table.
Thankfully, it would be a while before she invited her clients into her home for photo shoots.
For the time being, she resolved to utilize the simple beauties of nature for her backdrops and more involved photo sessions.
She had seen an abandoned farm just outside of town, and Jade Lake could always be relied upon for a stunning backdrop.
If she could clean up her own yard and put some of her mother’s landscaping tricks to good use, that could be another location for family portraits or graduation photos.
For now, Erica’s stomach demanded she stop daydreaming.
She hadn’t taken the time to go grocery shopping, but she wanted to indulge in another childhood fantasy.
There was a little diner she had wanted to visit during her childhood trips to the town, but their pocketbook always demanded they eat at home instead.
Though her jeep sat waiting for her to take a ride to the square, she passed it by in favor of walking.
She wanted to see the other houses and secretly compare them to her own.
Growing up, it was as if she wore blinders when riding down these streets.
She never noticed any of them as a child.
Her eyes were always glued to the next corner, willing her mother to drive faster or ignore the stop signs at each intersection so they could pull up in front of their dream home a little quicker.
Her mom always hyped up this house as being the most beautiful on the block, and young Erica eagerly agreed without question.
Now, she wondered if there were more secrets to this home than met the eye.
Passing by all the other grand homes along Crescent Lane and down toward the square, she realized there was nothing particularly special or extravagant about her new home.
All the others were just as old, just as beautiful in their own way, with manicured hedges and stunning craftsmanship.
That realization, that her house was just another matchstick in the box, didn’t dim her love for it.
The house she and her mother had practically worshiped was still her own and no one could take that from her now.
About half an hour of slow walking brought her to Tolstone town square.
Cars continued to pull through the roundabout as they had been all day long, and a few pedestrians strolled along the sidewalks at an easy, leisurely pace.
She smiled at the tiered fountain in the center of the square as she envisioned herself taking her lunches on one of the benches, when the weather permitted.
She could never do something like that in Decatur.
It was dangerous to walk in the streets by herself, and any place worth going was too far for a walk anyway.
Here, the air seemed infused with a safe, welcoming vibe that lightened Erica’s spirit.
At any moment, she was prepared to wake up from this impossible dream.
She turned to walk along the covered sidewalk that bordered the square. To her surprise, many of the shops were already closed for the evening, far too early compared to the stores in Decatur. She wondered if every place in town was closed on Sunday too.
She found her way to Lunar Lantern Diner, one of the only places still open.
The diner’s name was painted in thick, artistic letters on the wide front window, golden light spilling onto the sidewalk with the smell of fried comfort food.
Inside, several couples and families occupied booths and tables along the walls.
Erica had never gotten a good look through the wide windows when she and her mother passed by it on their way to Jade Lake, but what stood out most in her memory were the smiles.
Everyone inside seemed so happy to be there, talking and laughing with their friends over a meal or cup of coffee.
Such portraits of communal happiness were hard to find in her childhood.
She stepped inside, and inquisitive eyes fell on her. In a small town like Tolstone, a newcomer must have been a rare sight. She paid them no mind as she gazed around and grinned like a child who’d just walked into a candy store with a twenty-dollar bill in her fist.
The aesthetic screamed mid-century classic.
Her gaze flitted from the black and white checkered tile floor to the teal polyurethane booth covers, the chrome trim around the edges of gray countertops and tables, and finally the old jukebox in the far corner.
The waitresses wore pale blue dresses with white aprons, while the short-order cooks tied bandanas across their foreheads to keep hair and sweat out of their faces.
The counter that separated the cooking station from the rest of the dining area was packed with older men in heavy coats holding mugs of steaming coffee.
A heavyset, middle-aged woman greeted her from the register. She swept back a little of her black and silver hair behind her ear and grinned. “You can seat yourself, sweetheart.”
Erica glanced around and her smile faltered.
For the last year, she had avoided dining in a restaurant.
Saying, “Table for one,” just hit the wrong way and reminded her of how she’d never get the chance to sit across from her mom and share a meal again.
For what seemed like the thousandth time, it was painfully obvious that she had gained so much in buying her dream home, but lost so much more.
Erica strode up to the register. “Can I just order something to go?”
The woman reached down and pulled out a menu from underneath the counter. “Sure thing.”
Erica thanked her and stood off to the side to let an older couple pay their bill. So sucked into reading through the variety of different burgers, she didn’t hear the register drawer close or see the woman lean over.
“My name’s Gwen Gabors, by the way,” she said as she offered out her hand.
Erica looked up in a daze and shook her hand out of reflex, but it took her a second to reply with, “Erica Barrett.”
“You’re new in town, aren’t you?”
She smiled. “What gave me away?”
Gwen gave her a once-over and a sparkle came to her dark eyes. “I know pretty much everyone in town, but I’ve never seen you before.”
Erica turned back to the menu. “Yeah, I just moved in today.” Thinking on her feet, she added, “That’s why I’m taking this to-go.
I still have a lot of unpacking to do.” She pointed to a particular burger that was described as the Lunar Lantern’s Special.
“Three meat patties, bacon, mushrooms, and steak sauce?”
The woman laughed as she pulled out her order pad. “It’s a favorite around here. You want that?”
Erica waved her off. “No, no. That’s too much for me. I’ll just have the regular cheeseburger. No pickles.”
“You got it, honey.”
Gwen wrote up the order and passed it along to her cooks, and Erica heard the slap and sizzle of a fresh patty of ground beef on the grill.
The two ladies made a little more small talk while Erica waited for her burger and she discovered that Gwen and her husband, Jaime, owned Lunar Lantern and had been running it for nearly twenty years.
It wasn’t the only restaurant in town, but it was certainly the most popular with the locals.
She pointed out the Wall of Fame collage of pictures honoring heavy eaters and some loyal regulars.
Before Erica could get closer to examine the many faces of the townspeople, her order was ready. She gave her goodbyes to Gwen and made her exit, still the focus of a few inquisitive diners.
When Erica stepped back out into the square, her eyes trailed up to the evening sky.
Thin, cottony veils of clouds stretched across the horizon as the sun’s harsh amber glow chased away the blue from earlier that day.
She stopped and watched the sunset, wishing she had brought her camera with her.
If she hurried home, perhaps she could take her first photo in Tolstone from her porch.
Erica was nearing the corner of Second Avenue, ready to turn back into the residential part of town, when she nearly skidded to a stop in front of an antique store.
The glare from the setting sun caught on the glass lens of something that sat atop an old sewing table.
Sitting on the scratched and pitted surface was an array of old photographs and picture frames.
But as beautiful as they were, they didn’t hold her attention like the vintage camera propped up in the center.
She sucked in a tight breath when she saw the tiny words Rolleiflex in faded lettering above the twin lenses.
Its ebony, grainy body was old, and the white trim had been partially worn away by the ravages of time.
The names of the German manufacturers were printed just below the brand name, and she was impressed that the rawhide strap was still attached and that the numbers on the diodes were still legible.