Page 58 of Unstable

“Will do. Bye.”

I sit there a minute more, reviewing what just happened. Someone thought of me right at the start of their day, and I’d be lying if I said a tiny flutter of…something unique and enjoyable didn’t stir in my stomach when the phone rang.

And grow even stronger after we hung up.

Is it truly okay for me to entertain the possibility of being happy, as though I deserve it? And what will people say? Probably something along the lines of “‘Can you believe her? Abandons her mother and doesn’t even wait for the dirt to settle on her grave before she’s flouncing around like a lovesick fool.’

I can hear it now.

I’m nowhere near ready to handle that. So I have to try and keep my walls up. But Keaton is making that seem damn close to impossible.

My head and heart in disagreement, I walk into Miss Linda’s Boutique.

I always did love this store—so trendy, especially for Ashville, with colorful, enticing displays and something special and one-of-a-kind for anyone on your shopping list.

I hurry my way toward the back, but she spots me.

“Henley, sweetie, how are you?” Miss Linda herself comes over and I brace for her hug.

“I’m getting there, thank you for asking. I hope you’re well?”

“Dandy. I never get a customer this early! What can I help you find?”

“I want to buy Donna Simms a thank you gift, for, all her help.”

Linda’s happy expression stays firmly in place and she claps her hands. “It just so happens, Donna was in here not too long ago and was eyeing a certain pair of earrings I still have. Let me show you.”

I follow her to the glass case up front and she pulls them out. They’re beautiful, just like Donna, and I know they’re the right choice. “How much are they?”

“Only fifty dollars.”

“Sold.”

And then something else catches my eye. It’s a square belt buckle, mostly silver with edging and a bull’s head in the middle, both in gold.

“Also,” I have to find my voice, “How much for that belt buckle?” I point.

Linda can’t hide her piqued curiosity, yet answers professionally. “Normally two hundred, but for you, with the earrings too, we’ll say one-fifty for both.”

I have that much on me, and boy would that buckle look good on Keaton’s waist. Plus, I owe him many a thank you too. But what message would it send?

What message do I want it to send?

I don’t know the answer to either, so I go with illogical impulse and buy them both.

I thank Linda, promising to come by again soon, and hop back in my truck.

Well, clothes shopping is out, I just spent the bulk of my cash—but I feel good about doing something nice for others. It’s been far too long since I have.

I drive through town, looking around at all that I had blocked out before. Nothing’s changed. I mean really, nothing. It’s actually a quite picturesque little place if you can numb your mind to the scenery only.

When I get to Nelson’s, an icy chill zings through me. I didn’t stop to think what being here again would drudge up inside me. Dumb.

I’m here though, and Donna was a Godsend, so I take a deep breath, count to ten and get out, her gift in my unsteady hand.

The terribly misplaced bells carol melodically as I enter and like clockwork, out pops Donna from around the corner.

“Henley, honey, is everything alright?” She rushes over, giving me one of those hugs I love so much.

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