Rhiannon sighs heavily. “They’ve been cutting back on hours across the board which is insane given the deadlines haven’t changed. So now they get paid for less hours but are still expected to deliver the same amount of work. He was also promised a promotion to manage the entire fleet—a job he’s already been doing for free for over a year—but his boss keeps finding excuses to delay adding the compensation.”
“That’s awful,” I say, frowning.
“It is,” she agrees, nodding slowly. “He deserves the promotion and the money. But that’s not all.” She takes a deep breath, the kind you take before ripping off a Band-Aid. “We’ve been talking about it for a while with Eden, and we think it’s time to sell the family thrift store.”
Her words stop me in my tracks. My gaze shifts to the familiar aisles of mismatched treasures, to the well-worn counters and creaky shelves that have started to feel more like home than some impersonal showroom ever could.
The Carpenter family thrift store has been here in Brookhaven for decades, its roots buried deep in the heart of the small town.Everyoneknows this store and owns at least one item from the shop in their home.
Gabriel and Rhiannon’s parents opened it just shortly after Gabriel was born, over thirty years ago, and it was their primary source of income. Out of it came a love for refurbishing and restoring furniture.
Believed to originate from some of the originalCarpenter’sin North America, Rhiannon’s parents passed that eye for design and care for making old things new down to their three children.
When their parents passed away unexpectedly years later, the store became their family's lifeline—a steady, if modest, source of income that carried them through some of their darkest times.
It supported Gabriel through his divorce, helped Rhiannon finish college, and provided for Eden when she was still just a kid being raised by her two older siblings. And eventually, it provided a way for Gabriel and her to connect and find the inspiration to pursue design in college.
I know times have been tough lately. The economy’s struggling, the pandemic shuttered doors for months on end, and the increasing push to take everything online have all taken their tollon small businesses. But hearing they’re letting it go still feels like a punch to the gut.
“I’m so sorry,” I say softly, my chest tightening.
Rhiannon nods, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips.
“It’s for the best,” she says, though the sadness in her eyes tells a different story. “Eden graduates next year, and she’ll probably land a job with some big design firm in the city. I haven’t had the bandwidth to help with the online store, let alone work here regularly. And my cousin Natasha’s got her hands full with the bar. Business has really picked up for her lately, and the owner’s being a real dick. She thinks he’s going to end up selling the place to her.”
“That’s amazing for her,” I say.
Natasha was one of the first people I met when I purchased my home in Brookhaven months ago. She helped me pick out a few items to furnish my home and then ultimately introduced me to Rhiannon before Cain ever did.
And beyond that, she recently helped us throw Boone’s last minute charity event at the bar where she works, theBrookhaven Brews.It went smoothly only because of her generosity and attention to detail. She deserves to own our small-town’s bar. She practically runs it herself already.
“It is,” Rhiannon agrees, though her voice wavers just slightly as she glances around the empty store. “This place has been good to us, but it feels like the right time to let it go. We’ve outgrown it in a lot of ways. It's what kept us together during some tough years, but we've all changed.”
I nod, though the ache in my chest doesn’t subside.
This place has always been more than just a store to me. It’s where I’ve spent countless weekends, holed up with Rhiannonor Natasha, sorting through treasures and chatting about everything and nothing.
It’s where I’ve found most of the repurposed furniture for the home I’m still trying to finish—a place that’s slowly but surely becoming mine. I always thought I'd want designer items but instead I've found comfort in reusing pieces that have been enjoyed by other families before me.
Somehow knowing that they’re letting go of their family’s dream and stepping into a new future makes me feel like I’m being left behind.
“I get it,” I say finally, even though the words feel heavy on my tongue. “But I’m really going to miss this place.”
“Me too,” she admits, her smile tinged with nostalgia. “But who knows? Maybe the next owners will love it as much as we have.”
I glance at Piper, who’s now happily tugging on a stray scarf that dangles from a nearby display. “Maybe,” I say softly. “What about Gabriel? What’s he going to do?”
“I think we’re going to use the proceeds from the store to help him chase his dream.”
“And what’s that?”
She shrugs. “He’s still working it out, but you’ll have to get the details straight from him next time you see him. Cain is supposed to be working through some legal stuff with him and Natasha’s brother Roman is coming into town.”
I nod, her answer easing the knot in my chest just a little. As much as it sucks losing the place, it sounds like the right move for their family.
“Well, let me buy a couple of things today that I know I need for the house. Then can you have Gabriel drop them off sometimethis week while I’m at work? Eden has a key since she’s in the middle of renovating my den.”
“Of course, babe.” Rhiannon waves me off like it’s no trouble, then bends to scoop Piper off the floor. She smothers the little one’s chubby cheeks with kisses, making her giggle wildly. “So, what are you looking for?”
