Page 16 of The Lyrics of Love

Rylie moved back and allowed him to step into Antiques and Mystiques.

“You said I could drop by and see the place. That’s what I’m here for,” he lied, knowing he had only come to see her.

“Ah, good morning,” her clerk called out, coming toward him. The older man offered Nash his hand. “Hi. I’m Jerry.”

Nash appreciated not having to give his last name and smiled. “Nash,” he said, doubting this man would even recognize him because of his age.

“If you’ve come to look for furniture, Nash, this is the place. We have oodles of antiques and a few more modern pieces in our consignment section.”

“I met Rylie yesterday when I arrived in town, and she mentioned she owned this store. I do a little whittling on occasion. I also built a few pieces of furniture in a woodworking class back in high school.” He chuckled. “About the only class I passed.”

“I have a shop myself in my garage,” Jerry declared. “I’m a retired accountant and busier in retirement than when I crunched numbers. I work at Antiques and Mystiques fulltime, and I build cabinets in my spare time. You’ll need to stop by and see my work. I’d be happy to give you some space so you could make something of your own.”

“That’s generous of you, Jerry,” he said, recalling how friendly people were in the small town he grew up in and finding the same attitude in this man.

Rylie added, “Jerry also is active in the Salty Point Lions Club, and he heads up the Cove’s annual toy drive at Christmas.”

“It’s sounds as if you’re living a full life, Jerry,” Nash said.

“I lost my wife a few years ago. To be honest, I went into a real funk. Didn’t want to get out of bed. Didn’t want to do anything. But Rylie here offered me a job, and that got me up each day with purpose. Since then, I’ve learned that oftentimes the secret to being happy is keeping busy. I have two grandsons who live in the Cove, and they are the light of my life. I also spend a lot of time going to their ballgames.”

“Are these the famous boys who forgot to fill the gas tank?” he teased.

Jerry burst out in a robust laugh. “The very ones. Most of the time, their minds are on sports and girls. Not necessarily in that order. They do put in a few hours for Rylie, making furniture deliveries.” Jerry paused. “I’m going to have to let Rylie show you around the store, Nash. I’ve got some items to catalogue in the back and a delivery schedule to work on for my grandsons. Nice meeting you. Just holler if you want to stop by and run some wood.”

“It was good meeting you, too, Jerry.”

Now they were alone, Nash directed his attention to Rylie. “I know nothing about antiques,” he admitted. “Why don’t you give me a lesson on them?”

“I’m not sure how interested you would be, especially since furniture and history go hand in hand. Hearing you didn’t like school lets me know I should only point out a few pieces.”

“No,” he insisted. “I do want to hear something about the different kinds of antiques you have in your store. I think history classes are wasted on the young. As a matter of fact, I actually have gotten into history more as an adult. Traveling to so many different places, it got me wondering why a city came to be where it was. I don’t often have time to visit historical sites or museums while touring, but any city I go to, I always look up those places online and familiarize myself with them. Lots of websites have virtual tours, and I’ve learned quite a bit. Way more than I ever did sitting in class as a teacher droned on. Pops is pretty proud of me for that.”

“Pops?” she asked.

“Pops raised me. I grew up in a tiny speck on the map in East Texas.”

“Your parents weren’t in the picture?”

“Not really.” He swallowed, deciding he need to come clean with this woman about everything if he stood any kind of chance with her.

“My dad was a part-time musician and mostly an unemployed plumber. He drank himself to death when I was eight.”

Concern filled Rylie’s beautiful eyes. “I’m so sorry, Nash. You didn’t deserve to be around that. No child does.”

“At least he wasn’t a mean drunk. Just a sloppy one. He never hit me. Never raised his voice to me. He was just... not really ever there for me.”

“What about your mom?”

Nash shoved his hands into his pockets. “Mom was what we called in Texas a wild one. Dad knocked her up and convinced her to marry him, but she wasn’t cut out for domestic life. She was more absent than he was, out partying and having a good time. When my dad died, she didn’t even stay around for the funeral. She didn’t tell me goodbye, either in person or through a note. She was simply gone when I got up that morning.”

He swallowed, the memory still painful after so many years. “We never heard from her again. I figure if she were alive, she would have come knocking at my door by now, wanting to sponge off me.”

Rylie reached for his hand and squeezed it. The gesture was comforting, not sexual, but it still brought a warm feeling to his insides.

“I’m glad you had Pops,” she said.

“Pops is still there for me,” he told her. “He lives on the farm I bought just outside of Nashville. That’s home when I’m not on the road.” He had sold the L.A. house since it had never felt like home and held bad memories for him.

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