I turned the shower on and frowned. An awful groan coming from the pipes didn’t sound very promising. Then rust-colored water spit and sputtered out of the shower head. The old pipes did not want to let me shower. Or bathe. Ugh.
Conjuring my magical list and pen, I added plumbing to my list of things I’d have to have fixed. The list I would be giving the contractor when he arrived tomorrow. My bank account was dwindling. Fixing this place up would clean it out if I even had enough. And then what?
Getting a job was looking like my reality for the next few months.
Giving up on the cool shower, I looked over my list of things I needed to get at the grocery and hardware store. I’d do as much of the repairs as I could myself.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t much.
Nothing to do but dig into it. I washed the best I could in the sink. Not that I could fit inside the sink. The old sponge bath wasn’t what I longed for, but it freshened me up enough to make the trip into town.
With my second cup of coffee in a travel mug, I started Dia and headed to town. On the way to the hardware store, I noticed a bookstore that definitely hadn’t been there the last time I was in town.
Who was I, an author of some success, to pass up a bookstore? Even before I became an author, I’d never pass up a bookstore. Pulling a U-turn at the next light, I backtracked to the land of fiction.
After parking Dia in a spot, I entered the store, inhaling the wonderful smell of books. There was nothing like it. It was almost better than chocolate. Almost. Looking around, I realized that I remembered the store now. Auntie brought me here once a week. While she went to the occult section, I disappeared in the various fiction sections. I read just about every type of genre, my taste changing often. The storefront must’ve been updated since I was here last. That must have been why I hadn’t recognized it.
“Hello?” I called out as I moved closer to the counter to my right.
“Come in!” A thin man hurried out of the back. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. There was a friendly, warm energy that surrounded him. I couldn’t help but smile. When he got up front and behind the counter, he stopped short while staring at me. “Oh,” he breathed. “You’re Ava Howe.”
Well, I must’ve known him somehow. He sure seemed to know me. Could he be the same owner from when Auntie and I came all those years ago? No, he was much too young to have worked in the store over twenty-five years ago.
But he sure seemed to know me.
Then again, around here that didn’t mean much. Small town and all that jazz. Plus, the Howe family was infamous in this tiny town. He probably knew my family. Plastering a polite smile on my face, I held out my hand. “It’s Ava Harper now. Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, honey. We know each other. I was a year behind you at Shipton High. I’m Clint. Clint Homes.” He shook my hand delicately as he continued to stare at me with wide eyes. “But I have to say. I am the biggest fan of your books.”
Oh, how nice. Someone who knew me more from my books than my family. Though if he went to high school at Shipton, he knew of my family. And possibly Clay, who had only gone there during our junior and senior years. “It’s lovely to meet you again.”
“Please, tell me you’re moving back home.” Before I could answer, he rushed around the counter. “Look here, look, I have a display here dedicated to local authors, of which you’re the only one. So, you have your own special section here.”
He dragged me to the first row of shelves and held out his hands. My trilogy of young adult novels was displayed proudly with a small, framed photo of my headshot and another frame with my official bio from my website printed out. “Wow,” I breathed.
I was like a celebrity.
“I’m thrilled to have you here. Can I find you anything? What are you in town for? Are you moving back? Would you like some coffee?” He threw questions at me so fast I had to laugh. He was adorable and way too energetic for me. It was a good thing I had two cups of coffee.
Clint practically vibrated as I put my hand on his arm and squeezed. “Calm down.” I laughed. “Coffee sounds wonderful. I’m in town to sell my family’s house, and I’m just starting to write again, so hopefully you’ll have more books to add to the shelf soon.”
“You’re writing?” He asked excitedly as he led me to the little coffee pot I’d seen behind the counter. “Here.” He pulled out a stool and we settled in behind the counter. I didn’t know what had possessed me to say yes to coffee, except that Clint seemed genuinely interested in me, and I needed a friend and someone to talk to. It was nice.
“I’m so happy to hear you’re writing.” He fiddled with the coffee pot. “This will be ready in a jiffy.”
“Well, my husband died five years ago.”
He looked properly crestfallen. “I heard. I’m so sorry.”
I ducked my head and became interested in my fingernails. Man, I needed a manicure, bad. “Thanks. I haven’t been able to write a word since then, and before that, I was focused on being a wife and mom. But last night, the words flowed.”
Clint straightened on his stool and clapped his hands together. “That’s the best news.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, for me, too. Lord knows I need the money.”
Closing my eyes, I couldn’t believe I said that. Was I so desperate for a friend that I just spilled my failures to this stranger? Well, technically he wasn’t a stranger. We went to school together. But still, we hadn’t been friends. At least I didn’t think so.
His jaw dropped. “You do?”
I nodded with a sigh. I’ve opened my big mouth and might as well finish telling him my life story. “Yeah. Insurance money’s gone, and that house is going to suck up the last bit of what I’ve got. There is just too much that needs to be done.”
The smell of coffee filled the air as Clint studied me. “I don’t know if you’d be interested, but I need some help around here. Business always picks up this time of year, and I’ve been wanting to reorganize. It would just be a couple of days a week, but if you want to, the job is yours.”
Oh! That sounded perfect. I could write on days I didn’t work here. Plus, working in a bookshop sounded like heaven. “I’d love it, but I’m only going to be in town long enough to fix the house and get it sold.”
He waved his hands and stood as the coffee pot beeped. “I’ll take you as long as I can get you. I just know we’re going to be best friends.”
Somehow, I knew he was right. However, I wasn’t in town to make friends. I didn’t need the attachments that I’d have to leave behind. A job would be great and working in the bookstore would be a dream.
“Well, if you’re sure,” I said uncertainly, then added, “Black coffee, please.”
He handed me a cup and met my eye. “I’m positive.”
We chatted for a while. He told me about his failed marriage, and I told him about my husband’s death. It still hurt to talk about it, but I was able to get through it without crying. That was a good sign because it said that I was ready to move on. But not forget. I would never forget my Clay.
Before I knew it, it was nearly dinnertime. “I’ve got to run!” I exclaimed. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”