Page 10 of When We Were More
I stare at the few pieces of kitchen cabinetry hardware in my hand and run a fingertip over the etched floral pattern on the antique copper. It’s a beautiful piece.
“Try not to get your hopes up, Tillie. Cleaning them up will help, but I’m pretty sure you’ll have to buy new handles for those cabinets. Aren’t you still five short?”
I set the cleaning supplies I’m buying on the counter and inspect the antique handle more closely. I bite at my lower lip.
“Yeah, unfortunately. I’ve been going to flea markets and those antique malls for months, seeing if I could find any, but no luck so far.”
The bell on the front door of Lester’s hardware store rings, and Lester and I both glance in the direction of the sound. Jimmy Slockum, the lanky teenage boy who works a few hours every afternoon for Lester, smiles at me, his cheeks turning rosy red.
“Good afternoon, Miss Evans.” He looks over at Lester. “Hi, Mr. Lewis.”
Lester grunts at him. Apparently, he’s put his grumpy pants back on.
“Jimmy, I’ve told you that you can call me Tillie,” I correct him. His face turns even redder.
“No, he can’t. Kids nowadays need to respect their elders,” Lester says. Poor Jimmy grabs his apron from the hook behind the counter and scurries off to start work without another word.
“Hey. I’m hardly an elder—” I playfully tap Lester on the shoulder “—and you’re scaring the poor boy.” I can’t hold back a chuckle at Lester’s less-than-warm greeting to his employee.
“Well, he shouldn’t be flirting with the customers.” Lester wears a scowl on his time-weathered face. I roll my eyes at him. “You always have the boys losing their good sense, Tillie. Just like when you were a teenager.” I chuckle at my old friend’s assessment of things.
“Lester, if you think that Jimmy saying hello to me is flirting, we seriously need to work on your game.”
I reach into my purse and pull out my wallet, placing it on the counter to pay for my items. Lester waves me off.
“Your money is no good here, Tillie.”
I sigh deeply. “You’re gonna go out of business if you keep giving me stuff for free.”
“You’re family, young lady. You won’t take money for your help with my bookkeeping, and I’m not taking money for this.”
I smile at Lester, loving how he’s always trying to take care of me in little ways—even though I don’t need it. If anyone else tries that, I push back. I don’t need anyone rescuing me. Gram rescued me from the bad situation I was in with Joe, and I swore I would never need someone to do that again. I can take care of myself. Well, usually, anyway. More precisely, I don’t need anyone trying to be my hero, especially not a man. Heroes always want praise, and that can lead to hero worship, which gives someone else power over you. I won’t do that again. Ever.
I force my thoughts back to here and now.
“Come on, Lester. You know I’m making big bucks over at that firm.” He laughs at my sarcasm.
“Still not letting you pay me, Tillie girl.”
Lester has owned this hardware store for as long as I can remember. When I was a kid, Gram would bring me in here when she needed to pick up steel wool or some other small product Lester stocked. While Gram looked around the store, I used to talk Lester’s ear off.
Back then, I didn’t realize how little Lester talked to most people. In fairness, he probably didn’t get a word in edgewise with me. Regardless, I chatted him up every time we came in, which I swear was at least once a week.
Now that I think back on it, I sometimes wonder if Lester and Gram had a thing for each other. He was always nicer to Gram than to anybody else—except me. I looked forward to our weekly trips to Lester’s store, both because I loved the little things he would teach me, and he gave me suckers every time I was here.
Now, each time I come to this hardware store, nostalgia washes over me. Holt Hardware, located in downtown Aron Falls, is the quintessential small-town store. Lester himself is the classic handyman. He’s had the answer for everything I’ve ever asked him, and rumor has it he regularly makes house calls to fix things for older folks in our community or for people who don’t have the means to pay someone much, if anything.
There’s also the fact that Lester has taken many a young husband into what he calls the “man room” in the back of his shop and taught them how to fix something. He believes no one has caught on to him, but it’s common knowledge. He doesn’t realize it, but his gruff exterior with most people does almost nothing to hide his kind and charitable heart.
“How about I come to your house tonight and cook us some burgers on that charcoal grill of yours for dinner?”
Lester releases a slight growl and narrows his eyes at me. “You know I can feed myself, right? There’s no need to worry about this old man.”
I smile at him and reach over to squeeze the hand resting on the worn Formica countertop near his register. “Yeah, but I want to spend time with you. Plus, I need you to show me how to use this metal cleaner.”
Lester raises an overgrown brow at me, and I can see he’s trying to hold back a grin. “Fine. Let’s say five o’clock.” I nod and smile. “Now get out of here so you don’t distract my worker anymore.”
I turn around and see nobody in my line of vision, then I lift up onto my tiptoes and give Lester a quick kiss on the cheek.
