He opened the next cabinet to expose an old turntable and speaker system. “I used to occasionally, but it’s been a while.” He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d turned the stereo on.
“Oh, you should enjoy them, George. Music is good for the soul.”
He considered this. “Well, maybe with my retirement, I’ll have more time for that.” That, of course, was absolutely silly. George always had plenty of time.
“And what’s behind these doors?” She pointed to the other end.
“Another collection.” He felt a little embarrassed, but he opened the door anyway.
“VHS tapes?” She chuckled. “Are you kidding?”
“Most of these belonged to my grandparents.”
“What wonderful old classics.” She perused the spines. “You’ve got all the Katherine Hepburn–Spencer Tracy films. And here are all the Cary Grant ones. And Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. These are delightful films.”
“My grandmother loved old romantic movies.”
“And here are the westerns.” She continued to the next shelf, reading off titles.
“My grandfather’s.”
“And Alfred Hitchcock.” She pulled outNorth by Northwest. “One of my all-time favorites.”
“Those were my collection.”
“You’re a Hitchcock fan?”
He nodded.
“When did you last see this?” She held up a copy ofThe Birds.
“I don’t know. Years ago.”
“So you don’t watch these much?”
“Maybe now that I’m retired...”
“Do you have a VHS player?”
He opened the next cabinet door to reveal an old-fashioned TV and a VHS player. “I assume it still works,” he murmured.
She slid the tapes back into place. “Well, I hope somedayyou’ll invite me over to watch some of these with you.” She smiled warmly as, one by one, she closed the cabinet doors. “I’ll bring the popcorn.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He shifted his weight uncomfortably. On one hand, he did enjoy her company. On the other hand, it was highly disturbing. He wasn’t sure how much he could take of this. He resisted the urge to run a finger around his collar ... to loosen it in order to breathe better.
“How about these last two doors?” Willow asked.
“As you suspected.” He opened both doors. “Books.”
Willow ran her hand across the smooth surface of a wooden door. “These cabinets really are beautiful, George. Do you know what kind of wood this is?”
“Cherry.” He explained how he and his grandfather had built them.
“You’re kidding.” She examined the cabinets more closely. “You’re a craftsman, George.”
“My grandfather was.”
“But if you helped him, you must’ve learned a thing or two.”
