Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Diana squinted at her inventory spreadsheet. Why did the people who made these programs always make the fonts so darn small? And why did that question make Diana feel so old?
She was interrupted from one of her least favorite parts of operating a business when the gentle door chimes rang.
She looked up to see Cadence, looking far more pleased with herself than she had since the ill-fated perm.
The reason was no mystery. Cadence’s hair was looking far more chic and cute than it had the last time Diana had seen her.
“Wow,” Diana said, immediately putting her laptop aside. “You look great!”
Cadence fluffed her new ‘do happily. “I know, right? June is a miracle worker, I swear. She just went snip, snip, snip and suddenly I was more old time Parisian and less Shirley Temple.”
“Yeah, you look like you’re about to go down to the local gin joint to dance to jazz all night,” Diana said. “Very chic, very cool.”
“Thank you, thank you,” Cadence said happily. “I am obviously making the grand tour of everyone who saw my bad hair, so that you can rewrite that image of me with my good hair.”
“Old image entirely erased,” Diana promised her. “Is Izzy with Tyler today?”
“No, my parents,” Cadence said, shaking her head. Her curls bobbed adorably. “My dad has apparently started teaching Isabelle how to fish, which is not something I thought she’d enjoy, but which she apparently loves.”
Diana tried to imagine sweet, energetic Isabella sitting quietly for the long hours of a fishing excursion. She couldn’t imagine it.
“Huh,” she said.
Cadence laughed. “Yeah, exactly. Anyway, I’m off at the gallery today, so I’m at ends. What are you up to?”
Diana pulled a face. “Ugh. Inventory.”
Cadence copied her expression. “Ugh. Why is it so hard? At the gallery, I’ll sit there, trying to do it, and I can see the paintings on the wall and yet it is so impossible?”
“The worst,” Diana agreed.
Cadence tilted her head thoughtfully. “Speaking of the gallery, though… did you ever get around to hanging that painting I gave you?”
Diana didn’t react quickly enough to hide her wince. When Cadence arched an eyebrow curiously, Diana knew enough was enough. Time to come clean.
“Okay,” she said, rushing to get all the words out. “So, here’s the thing. I have tried it in all kinds of places. Seriously, every room in my house has seen that painting. And I just can’t make it work. I’m so sorry, and you were so sweet to give it to me, but it’s just not my style.”
“Oh,” Cadence said. “No problem. I’ll take it back.”
Diana blinked. “What?”
Cadence laughed at the baffled look on her friend’s face. “Yeah, Diana, I didn’t give you that picture because I loved it. I gave it to you because I loved it and thought you might love it too. If you don’t, you don’t. Art is subjective. It’s fine. I can find it a home easy peasy.”
When Diana continued to just blink at her, Cadence laughed harder.
“Oh my goodness, you’ve been driving yourself crazy about this, haven’t you?”
Diana started to chuckle too. “Okay, yes, maybe a little.”
Cadence rolled her eyes fondly. “Exactly. Listen, I still think you should make your house a bit homier. But that’s because I know you.
I mean, look around!” She waved an arm at the shop, which was laid out to perfection with bright splashes of color to draw the eye to various displays.
“You’re not the minimalist, ‘I love plain beige walls’ kind of person.
You should let your house express some of your personality, because I happen to think that personality is pretty darn great. ”
“I love you,” Diana told her friend. “And you’re right.
I’m not going to put off decorating my house just because I’m not married.
I still hope it will happen for me someday, but…
” She paused, thinking of Eleanor’s words.
“I don’t want to find just anyone. I want to find the right person.
And that person will need to embrace that design is part of who I am. ”
“Hear, hear!” Cadence cheered.
“I could use some help finding the art that speaks to me,” Diana added, almost shyly. “Do you think you could help?”
Cadence looked as though Diana had just told her she’d won the lottery.
“Of course I can help you!” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t you ask sooner?”
“Just being silly, I guess,” Diana murmured, already dreaming of all the things she’d love to hang in place of that wretched painting.
“Now, young man, I don’t mean to tell you your business, but I’m not sure that’s right…”
Garrett jerked at the sound of Mrs. Alder’s thin voice.
The elderly woman was ninety if she was a day, as evidenced by her tendency to call Garrett “young man” even though he was in his forties.
She often hired Garrett to do odd jobs, particularly as her eyesight was not exactly the best any longer.
However, it didn’t take very much to see that Garrett was installing Mrs. Alder’s new screen door upside down.
He glanced sheepishly over his shoulder to find the older woman leaning on her cane and giving him an amused look.
“Sorry, Mrs. Alder,” he said. “Too much woolgathering today.”
“Hmm,” she said, drawing out the sound. “And that ‘woolgathering’ wouldn’t have to do with a pretty young redhead that’s new to town, would it?”
Goodness gracious, this town!
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he said dryly.
The elderly woman cackled delightedly. “Sure, sure,” she said. “Keep your secrets—but fix that door!”
She returned to the house with careful steps, not stopping to say anything more. Garrett knew there was a reason he liked the old lady. She might drop hints about local gossip, but she wasn’t likely to badger him about it.
Besides, she wasn’t wrong. Garrett had been able to think of little else beside his kiss with Eleanor for the last few days.
He was normally a good, solid sleeper, but he’d spent the previous several nights dissecting and inspecting their kiss from every angle.
Had she liked it? What did this mean between the two of them?
Was he ready for a romance? What should he do next? Did he want to kiss her again?
This last question, at least, was easy to answer. He very much wanted to kiss her again. Many times, if possible.
It made him a little nervous how much he wanted to kiss her again, in fact.
When Maria had left him, it had gutted him.
He hadn’t just found himself missing the woman herself, although he had missed her, of course.
He’d missed her desperately. But maybe even more than that, he’d found himself grieving the life he’d planned to have with her.
When she’d called off their wedding, she had also called off the future they’d anticipated together.
The idea of giving someone else control of his future again was scary.
For ten years, he hadn’t considered it worth it to trust someone else with shaping his life. He’d wanted to be in charge. Just him. Yes, life would always have its unpredictable elements, but all the decisions had come from Garrett and Garrett alone. He’d liked it that way.
And then he’d met Eleanor Ridley. And she made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t worth taking a risk to get to spend more time with her.
To get to sit near her by the fire in that front room she was doing up, to get to taste some of the cooking she did on that new stove of hers. To just talk to her.
And, yes, to kiss her. He wanted to do a fair bit of that.
But what did she want?
He asked himself the question for the hundredth time, and for the hundredth time, he reminded himself that there was only one way to get an answer.
He was going to have to talk to Eleanor.
Talking, he thought as he undid all the work he’d done to hang the door, this time putting it on correctly. My favorite.