Something has changed.
I know exactly when it happened. Before having dinner with him at Watts Ranch, I rarely saw Ford. Even then, if I did see him, it was at a distance.
Now? I see the man everywhere.
It doesn’t make any sense and it’s completely maddening. While it would be fine to see him at a distance and give a wave, since we’ve broken bread and all now, that’s not what happens. The man wants to have conversations with me.
I think he’s even been flirting with me.
I’m not sure since I haven’t had a lot of practice, but I’m quite sure.
He’s stopped in and mailed things outside of his normal schedule. Which means I couldn’t avoid him by taking my break.
I’m not sure if Ford realizes it, but the man is a creature of habit. He comes in to mail his bills on the same days every month, even though he could put them in his mailbox to be picked up. I have a feeling that his dad taught him a certain way to do things, so that’s what he does.
It makes me wonder if he’s even aware he could do it differently, or if he doesn’t change it on purpose. Maybe it’s a way to stay close to his dad.
From what I remember of Fred Conners, he was a nice man. When he died, the whole town felt it.
And then there’s the whispers of what Barbara Conners spent her time doing after Fred’s death. There aren’t a lot of flattering rumors about the woman. The same is true of Crystal.
If they spent any time here, maybe some of the rumors wouldn’t circulate. But then again, people have the right to feel a certain way when feeling snubbed. It’s no secret why she prefers the company of those who reside in Lake Tahoe.
Barbara Conners takes the idea of a vacation home to a whole new level, and I can’t say it’s a good one.
Something needs to change soon, because if we’re not careful, we’ll have an Ebeneezer Scrooge situation on our hands with a miser in a house too big for him and no humanity. He’s certainly been left alone in his farmhouse mansion for long enough as it is.
It’s not my personal responsibility to prevent this. I’m already doing my part, I would think.
I even saw him at The Pitstop yesterday. We were both picking up a to-go order from the local, and delicious diner.What are the odds that we would be there at the same time? He doesn’t have a regular Pitstop schedule that I’m aware of.
But it’s not like I watch him all the time.
That would be silly. Too silly really. Even for me.
It’s been a matter of days, and I swear the man is everywhere.
When I turn the corner of Falls Market, my feet and cart come to a screeching halt. Literally, because I always seem to grab the cart that is just a little off. Today, it’s a squeaky wheel unless I maintain a gentle pace or am at a complete stop.
Ford Conners, who doesn’t do the shopping for Sagebrush, is standing in the middle of the aisle with bread, cereal and other grains including rice. When he glances up and sees I’m the one who has stepped into the aisle, a huge smile breaks out across his face.
Run.
It whispers through me.
He’ll figure it out if you spend too much time with him.
I swallow hard and suddenly realize that maybe the opossum is onto something. Playing dead right now won’t help me, but I’m not sure it would hurt either.
“Arden,” his voice is gruff, but there’s warmth in it which makes me want to wrap my arms around the man and never let go, “how nice to see you again.”
His amber eyes light up as he takes me in and a shiver runs up and down my spine. My nipples pebble and I send a little promise out there to not talk bad about my bra again. Because I know my nipples won’t show through the padding.
It might not be fancy, but it’s doing the job I need it to do.
“Hi, Ford,” I greet him because my mom taught me manners, and snubbing him would create even more talk than just us having a small conversation. All I wanted was a loaf of bread.
Look, you can say what you want about a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I love them. They’re comfort food for me, and I’ll never outgrow eating them.
