Page 18 of Afternoon Delight
“Actually, I was looking for...”
I trailed off, scanning the store for Zak as I followed Dale into a cluttered impression of a Victorian drawing room. Narrow paths wound between aged wooden furniture. Splashes of color came from needlepoint cushions, bold lampshades, and saucy red vinyl stools. It smelled like cedar and mothballs and my grandmother’s attic, where I’d played with my cousins as a child. I felt snug and safe, and I wanted to poke around for hours just to see what I could find.
“A magician bought one of these for his disappearing lady trick.” He opened one dark wooden door of a six-foot-tall wardrobe. “Do you know how he did it?”
“How?” I was instantly rapt, excited to learn a magician’s secret.
“Layaway.”
A guffaw escaped me, mostly because he had led me right into that joke. I was sure he had told it a thousand times.
“Which is something we could arrange for you.” Zak’s voice startled me into turning. He wore his jeans and boots with a pale blue Henley, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He was wiping his hands on a cloth as he smoothly continued the pitch. “We could also convert it into something more suitable for today’s lifestyle. A television cabinet, perhaps? Or a baking pantry?”
“Very slick. I’ll take two.”
“Be careful. We have two. This is Meg from next door, Dad. You haven’t met her yet. She’s running the new shop next door. This is my dad, Dale Halligan.”
“Hi, Dale.” We shook hands.
“Meg. Right. The new shop. I remember.” Dale nodded, but confusion clouded his eyes.
I felt a tug in my chest. He didn’t remember, but thought he should. That distressed him. I could tell.
“My hands are covered in turpentine.” Zak showed me his wide palms, dry white lines traced into every whorl and crease. “I’ll be right back.”
“Sure.” I averted my eyes from his departing jeans, asking Dale, “Have you had this shop long?”
“Oh, yes. Almost twenty years. My wife, Tammy, inherited her grandparents’ farm when we married. She began refinishing their furniture as a hobby and sold it through here. When the bachelors who owned this store wanted to retire, she used the money from the farm to buy the building. We have three tenants—two upstairs, and Debra next door. The twins come by to help after school, but they’ll be off to college soon. Tammy thought she’d be alone here, but I got my buyout package from the railway and she railroaded me into working with her.” He touched his nose, inviting me to enjoy his pun.
I gave him the chuckle he was looking for, but it was tempered by the realization that his spiel had come out via muscle memory. Dale had missed at least a decade and a half. I didn’t see anyone who looked like a Tammy, so I was pretty sure he was missing her, too. My heart panged with compassion.
“Oh. You take books.” I noticed a table where leather-bound books were spilling out of boxes. “My mother has my father’s medical textbooks. Would they be worth anything?”
“Let me show you what to look for.” He opened a book and gave me some tips on determining whether it was a first edition. “Like anything, it’s a matter of doing your research, then finding a buyer. Books are more personal than furniture, so they’re harder to sell—but everything is wanted by someone. The trick is making the match.”
“There should be an app, like dating. Swipe right if you’re interested in Diseases of the Ear, Nose, and Throat.” It was a solid joke, but the wrong audience.
Dale nodded politely, setting down the book he was holding.
“Did you need something?” Zak came back in time to hear me bomb. “Or is this a social call?”
“A little of both.” I turned to face him. “I was curious about your shop, but I want to do a splashy reopening next door. I thought it might affect you, so I wanted to ask first.”
“When?”
“Thursday next week? I’ll put it on social media, obviously, but I’m hoping to get some spots on the radio and entice people to drop in on their way home from work.”
“The microbrew will love that. We’ll stay open late, too. Keep the street bright.”
“Really? That’d be great. Thanks.”
“A street party? We should talk to Debra about that.” Dale started toward the door.
“No, Dad—” Zak caught him back.
I winced an apology and pointed to my untended store.
Zak nodded, and I left him patiently repeating to Dale that Debra wasn’t there anymore. I really did need to appreciate my mom more. I couldn’t imagine how helpless Zak felt.
