Page 57 of Our Now and Forever

A friendly grin split Spencer’s face. “Our little burb is growing on you, huh?”

Caleb shared a smile of his own. “I admit, the place has a certain charm about it.”

“We do our best,” Spencer said, heading back toward the lobby.

“By the way, where did you guys have this big festival?” Recalling his conversation with Cooper about space in town, Caleb added, “The fairgrounds?”

“Nope,” Spencer answered, stepping into the November chill. “Right here in the parking lot.”

Glancing left and right as he stepped through the door, Caleb saw nothing but Margin Street, lined with brick buildings and no parking lots. “There’s a parking lot?”

Spencer nodded to his left. “Around the side and behind the building. Come on, I’ll show you.”

With hunched shoulders, the men rounded the corner and Caleb was shocked to see a wide alley that led down the length of the building and into a sizable parking lot. An idea instantly came to mind.

“This is perfect,” he said aloud.

Spencer shrugged. “It’s okay. As far as parking lots go.”

“No,” Caleb said. “It’s exactly what we need.”

Snow spent her Friday morning searching the Internet for ideas on what to get Caleb for his birthday coming up at the end of the month. The present carried more weight as possibly the last thing she would ever give him.

Other than a divorce. They’d made progress in the happiness department, but Vivien’s threat was never far from Snow’s thoughts.

Her husband wasn’t the new gadget type, didn’t care about clothes, and it wasn’t as if they had much room in the apartment for something like a big-screen TV or an extra dresser.

Not that she’d buy him a dresser. That would be weird. Still, she almost wished they had a bigger place so Caleb could stop living out of the box his mother had shipped his clothes in. The thought brought her up short. When had she forgotten that Caleb would be leaving in little over two weeks? Their one-month trial period would end, and she’d send him packing. Or would she?

Imagining her life the way it had been before Caleb found her, Snow tried to find relief in a return to normal. In the thought of getting her life back. But seeing herself alone again only made her feel empty.

“Whatcha doin’?” Lorelei asked as she placed a plastic container on the counter. Without answering, Snow pointed to the bowl with a questioning look. “Granny made dumplings last night,” her friend answered, setting a fork and napkin next to the bowl. “This is my way of apologizing for Wednesday. Your love life is your business, and I need to butt out.” Crossing her arms, she added, “I’m sorry.”

By the time they’d left dinner at Mamacita’s, Snow had gotten over her snit with Lorelei. They’d spent the entire meal talking about Carrie and the baby and how to decorate the nursery in the expectant mother’s new home. The one good thing to come out of the death of Carrie’s husband, other than an end to a violent marriage, had been the life insurance policy provided by Patch Farmer’s employer. It turned out all employees at the factory received policies equal to their annual salary, paid for by the company.

Carrie certainly wasn’t rolling in dough, but thanks to that policy, she’d been able to buy herself a nice little single-wide trailer not far from town. It had been used, but came with a yard, had been well-maintained, and best of all, provided a safe and comfortable home for the new little family.

“Lorelei, there’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Look,” her friend said, “I’m not good at the girlfriend thing. I’m abrupt and bossy and any filter I might have had disappeared by the time I was ten. But I’m working on that, and a big thing is admitting when I’ve crossed a line.”

Snow couldn’t argue with Lorelei’s assessment of herself, but the woman also had a big heart, was funny as hell, and regardless of her tactics, always meant well.

However, Rosie Pratchett’s chicken and dumplings were really good.

“Well then,” she said, pulling the bowl her way, “if me eating these chicken and dumplings will make you feel better, that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

Lorelei rolled her eyes. “Maybe you’re the one who should move to Hollywood and give acting a try.”

“No thank you,” Snow said with a laugh. “I’m good where I am.” As she lifted the lid, a heavenly scent tickled her nose and made her mouth water. “This is going to be much better than my PB&J sandwich.”

But before Snow could dig in, the store phone rang. Having learned her lesson, she checked the ID to see the name of the appraiser who’d given her an estimate on the William Norton painting.

“Hello, Ms. Bolliver. How can I help you?”

“Good afternoon, Ms. Cameron. Is there any way you could have that William Norton painting down here in Nashville by nine tomorrow morning?”

Snow’s mind raced to find an answer. She’d need someone to run the store. And they’d need to take Caleb’s Jeep since the painting was too large and delicate to shove in her backseat.

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