Page 52 of Made for You

“Shit man. Now she’s dating him?” I could slam my forehead into the table for the mess I got myself in.

“No. She’s definitely mine. But she told me I had to earn her not by claiming her and by wanting herall the time,not just when someone else was around. So letting her go with him snowshoeing and not being an asshole felt like the right move. So here I am, sitting in the barn, talking to you.”

“You gotta do something big. Women love those grand gestures. At least I think they do. Not like I have much experience beyond international one night stands.” I laugh at him, until it doesn’t sound like he’s laughing.

“I’ll think about it. What’s really going on with you though, something is wrong.”

“How about you just set a night aside for me and a beer and we’ll talk about all our woes. I gotta run now though, going to do something that might kill me just to get the photo the magazine wants.”

“You got it, brother. I’ll put ‘em in the fridge now.”

He hangs up and now I’m worried about him. He’s never sounded so exhausted and miserable while on a trip. He lives to travel and photograph for the magazine that he works for.

But something he said did spark an idea. A grand gesture. I could build the table she wants for the bakery.

I grab my notebook and immediately get to work designing what I will build for her, and I’ll carve violets all over it for her. Small ones along the edging and maybe large ones in millwork boxes along the front of it.

After an hour, and a lot of drafts, I finally have the start of a design that I’m happy and excited about. I need to go see Margaret first. Since it’s her bakery and I’m trying to keep Violet in the dark for a surprise, I’ll need Margaret to give final approval before I start working, and stop Violet from trying to find the designer.

I pack up my stuff and bring my notebook with me to find Margaret. If she’s not at the bakery, she’s at Emerald Roasters.

I send a quick text to Emma to let her know that I’m going out to run an errand, and ask her to listen if any guests need anything for an hour.

I’m pumped about my idea and decide to drive to town instead of walk, to get there faster.

I park in between the bakery and Emerald Roasters, peering into the windows of the bakery, I only see Hunter’s crew so I try the coffee shop.

I walk up the steps and open the door, finding Margaret and Esther at a table. I wasn’t ready to give this speech in front of Esther. That never crossed my mind in the excitement to get started.

“Well, if it isn’t Liam Keaton gracing my doorstep. What can I get for you?” Esther stands, ready to make my coffee.

“I’m actually just here for Margaret.” I nod in the direction of where she sits at the table.

Esther sits back down, letting me know she’s staying for whatever it is I have to say.

Margaret looks at her, and pushes the chair out with her foot for me to join. “To what do I owe the pleasure of being hunted down by a Keaton man?”

“I have an idea. A surprise for Violet. But I need your approval. And when I say surprise, I mean surprise and secret that you two are not to speak to another soul.” I level both of them with a stare.

They use their fingers to mock zipping their lips and throwing away the key.

“I mean it, you two. Not. A. Soul.”

“Okay, sheesh. Who knew you Keaton boys were so intense.”

I grin, and feel a little bad.

I pull out my notebook and open to the page that the design was on.

“Oh Liam, this is beautiful, did you design this?” Margaret pulls the book closer to her.

“Yes ma’am. You know the furniture Violet was looking at at the inn?” She nods. “Well. That’s me. I design and build all of our furniture. I carve all the designs myself too.” I fidget with my hands in my lap, nervous to say that out loud for the first time to someone.

“Liam, everyone raves about the furniture! I’m always being asked if it’s a local designer and I never know what to tell them. You’re so talented.” Esther responds, pulling my notebook to her.

“So, if I’m understanding correctly, my granddaughter told you that she wanted this, and she wanted the name of the designer, and instead of telling her, you whipped this design up in no time at all, and you want to build it for her. Because you love her. Did I get all that right?”

My cheeks redden and I stare at Margaret. Thinking of the right words. But do I need any more than what pops into my head first? “Yes ma’am. I do.”

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