Chapter 9
The quiet walk into town did more to calm my senses than any guided meditation I’d ever found within my noise cancelling headphones when I was in the city. Even with the slight bit of nerves I felt going past the rail house.
Having the space to breathe made me feel as if my life was free and open to the multitude of possibilities.
Even though Salt Lake City was huge, my life had always felt so small in that apartment with Nick.
But being out here, being able to visually see how far this expanse of land went, showed me how big life was.
And even still, he had found me.
I shook my head to release the thought and reminded myself of the effort.
Nick wasn’t the type to put any effort into anything he did.
If he couldn’t buy it or hire someone else to do it, it didn’t get done.
There was zero chance of him coming here because that would require too much work on his part.
Flowers, though? Flowers were easy. He was a master manipulator and knew the exact kinds of things to say to get me to go crawling back every time.
Not this time. I brought my consciousness to what was directly in front of me.
The flowers along Main Street lit each storefront with pops of colour, and as I took a deep breath in, my lungs were filled with the sweet smell of them.
I was surprised to see so many flowers so strongly in bloom for the time of year, lilies of all colours, peonies, roses, asters, and many more I didn’t know the names of.
I guess with the flower shop’s greenhouse bursting at the seams, it wasn’t too off course for this little town.
I checked my phone for the time, noting I still didn’t have service, and realized I was much earlier than planned to meet with Melody.
Fear had won over breakfast two mornings in a row, but I wasn’t about to let it take over the whole day.
And I refused to let it ruin the kindness of the family whose lives I’ve been crashing.
Next to Love in Bloom was a thrift store I must have missed during my wanderings yesterday. It was tucked in close to the side and set back a bit from the curb, but it too had flowers hanging from the sign out front—Something Old, Something New.
“Perfect,” I mumbled as I went to open the door. I could probably find something in here to replace Trixie’s vase that I had broken this morning.
Scratch that, I could have found an army of vases.
Although I had a petite frame, I still felt like a bull in a china shop in this tiny store.
It was like a maze of shelving; every piece was unique with every square inch holding some sort of knickknack.
I tied up my long hair so it didn’t catch on anything, before I maneuvered around the space, determined not to play a game of dominoes today.
Careful not to knock into the towers of teacups, I tried to fight the feelings of disappointment as I perused the section of glass vases. They were all gorgeous, but nothing was quite as ornate as the one I had broken.
But who was I kidding? Nothing I did would ever be good enough.
“Stop it,” I whispered. Those thoughts were not my own. The voice in my head, although it sounded like my own voice, was distorted and only there because it had been drilled into my head. I made mistakes, but so did everyone.
I was good. I had good intentions and was kind to everyone. I just needed to remind myself of that sometimes.
Once the fog of shame blurring my vision had lifted, I saw the vases differently.
I chose one with a slight green tinge that spiraled up and rippled at the top.
It wasn’t the same as the one I had broken, but it would suit the greenery in Trixie’s kitchen perfectly, and I hoped it would bring a smile to her face.
“Oh, what a great choice. I have been eyeing this one up for a while,” the woman behind the till said as I placed the vase on the counter.
She looked younger than me, which surprised me.
I expected whoever worked at this shop to be closer in age of some of the items, not to me.
But I couldn’t have been more wrong. Her black leather vest obviously still had some age to it, but she was styled so edgy that her pink hair stood out like a sore thumb.
And I loved it. She was loud and brave, and I didn’t even need to truly meet her to know that she had a confidence that would never waver.
“I don’t think I could’ve gone wrong with anything in your store, honestly,” I told her.
“We have my grandpa to thank for that. He couldn’t get rid of anything.
Everything had the potential to be a treasure in his mind.
” I didn’t miss the wistful smile on her face and the fact that she had talked about him in past tense.
It felt like I was a close friend with her grief in those moments.
I wanted to say something, but offering condolences would have only been an invitation into my own life, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that quite yet.
“Well, I’ll definitely be back to check out more.”
“Are you here visiting?” she asked casually as she took my money.
“I thought I would just be passing through.”
“But this little town had other ideas?” She smirked at me.
“You could say that.” I returned her smile as I thought of the honest welcome Trixie gave me, the excitement I felt to go meet up with Melody, and the safety I felt with Calvin even though I was terrified of being eaten by a bear.
“Love that,” she said as she passed me the vase she had carefully wrapped up in a newspaper. “My name is Cami. Camellia, actually, but that’s too long and too…floral.” She laughed as she gestured to her all-black oversized outfit.
“I’m Stella,” I introduced myself. “It’s really nice to meet you, Cami.”
I carefully placed the vase in my bag. I couldn’t wait to give this to Trixie.
“You too! See you around.”
When I arrived at Cupid’s Cup, Melody pulled me into the hug I was quickly growing to expect from her.
“I’m so excited to show you the bookstore! My best friend Liv is the owner and I already told her we’d be coming,” Melody practically squealed. “Can you help me carry a few things over, though?”
“Yeah, of course.” I smiled at Melody. A genuine smile I hadn’t felt in such a long time. She already treated me like we were friends, and I couldn’t help but hope we became good ones.
She led me to a couple large crates full of baked goods and a large carafe of coffee.
“Where are we taking all this?” I asked her, confused.
She made it sound like we were just carrying it over to the bookstore as if it was just across the street. But I had walked all over town yesterday and didn’t see the bookstore anywhere.
She got a mischievous look on her face as she picked up the crates of baking. “You’ll see, follow me.”
I grabbed the carafe of coffee and followed her out the door, and indeed across the street. Not into a bookstore, but the post office.
“What are we—” Before I could ask a single question, every word was stolen from me as I stared in awe at the photos displayed from floor to ceiling.
This was like no post office I had ever seen before.
Lining the walls were wedding photos. Some looked more recent than others, and some even looked as old as the town itself as the pictures were yellowed and faded.
You could see the change in fashion over the decades as gowns transformed and then cycled back again to vintage styles.
The gorgeous colours of the bridal parties created a rainbow of art in the space.
Every photo had a different backdrop, some were set in the mountains, others were obviously outside a church.
Some were on a beach, some in the middle of winter.
Despite all the differences, on each picture frame there was an attached invitation.
Reading a couple of them, I realized these invitations were from all over the country, the only similarity between them being the stamp in the corner.
A little teddy bear holding a heart with Love, Sask. written underneath.
“What are all these?” I asked Melody as she took the carafe from my hands and placed it on a counter nearby.
“We’re pretty widely known for our stamp here in Love and it’s become quite the tradition for some couples to first mail their invitations here to be stamped, before they are then forwarded to the intended recipients,” Melody explained.
The pride in her town was obvious in the way she lit up when she talked about it.
“Teddy is such a sap, he always asks the couples to send a photo he can display with the invitation.”
“The owner’s name is Teddy?” I asked, completely unable to hide the surprise and smile on my face. How much more cliché could one small town get.
Melody giggled like it wasn’t the first time she had heard the question. “Well, Theodore. But he really plays it up where he can.” She smiled brightly but then it dampened slightly. “We used to host a lot of destination weddings, too, until our chapel burned down.”
Before she could continue, a door behind the desk opened and out walked—waddled, rather—the cutest old man I had ever seen in my life. He was a little shorter than me, with his hunched shoulders and round frame, but his smile made him fill the space like he was ten feet tall.
“Hi, Teddy,” Melody said with a smile that matched his energy.
“Good morning, Melody!” His joyous voice boomed in the small post office and I was surprised none of the pictures fell off the wall.
I was also shocked, and proud of myself, for not having felt the slightest bit of anxiety at his loud voice.
But then again, I don’t think anyone could feel anything but instant love for Teddy and his round red cheeks that held up his small square glasses.
“What delicious goodies have you brought us today, my dear?”
Melody beamed and showed him the crates of baking, explaining what each one was, while I admired more of the wedding photos on the wall.
This was such a beautiful town, and everyone I met had so much love for it.
It made me sad that they had suffered a loss they weren’t even able to repair.
An idea started itching in my mind when Teddy reached his hand out toward me.
“And who do we have here?”
“Hi, I’m Stella.” I reached across the counter to shake his hand, and the comfort of his soft wrinkly hand in mine reminded me of how I had held my own grandfather’s hand all those years ago.
Pain and grief were prominent feelings in this moment, but they also didn’t take away from the joy I felt meeting this man.
“She’s just moved here,” Melody explained. “So, of course, I had to bring her over to Liv’s!”
It was the second time that morning I hadn’t been able to admit I wasn’t planning on staying. But maybe that’s because I no longer wanted to run.
“She’ll be happy to see you. Go ahead and head on back.”
“Thanks, Teddy.” Melody waved, and once again picked up the crates of baking, motioning for me to grab the carafe as we headed toward the rows of PO boxes that made up the bulk of the post office.
“Okay, what are we doing with all this stuff?” I asked Melody, unable to hide my confusion any longer.
“Just wait and you’ll see right away.” Melody laughed as she went up to a row of mailboxes at the back of the post office that looked identical to all the others.
On second glance, this set was a little different.
The divisions between the mailboxes didn’t look quite as deep and defined as all the others, and I understood why as Melody reached for the large dial on the left mailbox, turning and pulling to open into a doorway, instead of just one singular mailbox.
“Welcome to The Warm Hug.”