Page 74 of Finders Keepers

“Hmph. Kids these days have no respect,” Henry grumbles, but I catch the way his eyes soften when he looks back down at Sophie.

“How’s that shelf holding up in the shop?” Mr. Locke asks me, still chuckling. “Henry here is the one who suggested that extra support bracket.”

“Oh! It’s perfect, thank you.” I smile genuinely at Henry. “The orchids love their new home.”

“Course they do.” He puffs up slightly. “Told Joe the standard bracket wouldn’t be enough with all that weight. But does anyone listen to old Mr. Henry? No, they just think I’m being difficult.”

“Because you are difficult,” Mr. Locke retorts good-naturedly. “Remember last week when you spent twenty minutes lecturing that poor boy about proper nail selection at the store?”

“Well, he was going to use finishing nails for a deck! A deck!” Henry throws his hands up in exasperation. “What are they teaching these youngsters nowadays?”

Ms. Lucy pats his arm. “And that’s why we need experienced folks like you around, Henry. To keep these young ones from making those sorts of mistakes.”

“Speaking of young ones,” Henry peers at Sophie who’s now picking something off her shirt, clearly bored with adult conversation. “Are you planning on signing up for the junior gardening program? Mary Beth mentioned starting it up again this fall.”

I blink in surprise. “I didn’t know about that.”

“Oh yes!” Ms. Lucy claps her hands. “Mary Beth was just telling me about it. They teach the little ones about plants, and have them grow their own vegetables. It’s wonderful.”

Sophie looks up. “Can I grow flowers, Mommy?”

“We’ll talk to Mary Beth about it,” I promise, touched that Henry would think to mention it.

“Better than sitting inside with those video games all day,” he mutters. “In my time—”

“We know, we know.” Mr. Locke cuts him off with a grin. “You walked uphill both ways in the snow to school.”

“That was one time!” Henry protests. “And it really did snow that day!”

“In Texas?” Ms. Lucy raises an eyebrow.

“Well…” He shifts uncomfortably. “Might’ve been more of a heavy frost.”

We all laugh, and this time he joins in, albeit reluctantly. Sophie, having reached her limit of standing still, starts pulling on my hand again.

“Mommy! Puppies!”

“Alright, alright.” I turn to our little group. “We promised Sophie some puppy kisses at Dr. Mitchell’s booth.”

“Ah, young Dr. Mitchell.” Henry’s eyes narrow knowingly. “Good man. Knows his stuff. Fixed up my Arthur’s hip last month.”

“Arthur?” I ask.

“His cat,” Mr. Locke stage whispers. “Don’t let the grumpy act fool you. Henry’s got three cats and feeds every stray in a five-mile radius.”

“They’re not strays,” Henry bristles. “They’re independent outdoor cats who occasionally grace me with their presence.”

“And eat all your cat food,” Mr. Locke adds.

“Well, I can’t let them go hungry, can I?” Henry’s voice rises defensively. “What kind of monster do you think I am?”

Sophie tilts her head and giggles. “Not Oscar anymore. You’re like the cat man!”

His face softens completely this time. “Smart kid you’ve got there,” he tells me, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a dollar bill. “Here, little lady. Get yourself something sweet. But not those cotton candy abominations, they’ll rot your teeth right out of your head.”

Sophie looks at me for permission, and I nod. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Mr. Cat Man!” She takes the dollar carefully.

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