I managed a small smile. "Yeah, I think they would be."
"Check this out." I held up a China plate with a delicate gold rim and a spray of painted violets in the center. The complete set was nestled in an aged wooden crate, each piece wrapped carefully in old newspapers.
"Those are lovely," Aurelia said, her eyes lingering not on the China but on a faded photograph beside it. "You know, items like these... They carry more than just food. They carry years of silent stories, some too heavy to recount."
Her words hung between us, weighted with unspoken history. I glanced at her, curiosity pricking at my thoughts. "Sounds like you've had your share of stories."
Aurelia looked away, her fingers tracing the frame of the photo before she said, "Let's just say the past few years have been...a journey. Some roads are rougher than others."
Before I could ask more, Skye called us over to where she stood by a sturdy oak bookshelf. Its shelves were empty but for a layer of dust and the faint scent of aged paper that still clung to the wood.
"This will be perfect for the manor." She ran her hand along the top shelf. "My TBR pile is overflowing my shelves. Or maybe for the office. I could move some of my files into the bookshelf we have that closes and put the books on this one.
"What do you do?" I asked.
"Aurelia and I are the town accountants." She grinned and said, "I love the numbers, the order of it all." She hesitated, her gaze drifting past the rows of antiques. "Sometimes, I wonder if there'ssomething else out there for me—something different."
"Like what?" I asked.
She shrugged. "I wish I knew. It's like there's a piece missing, you know? Just can't figure out what it is yet."
"Maybe it's not about finding one thing," I said, thinking back to the eclectic collection of memories from my childhood. "Maybe it's about exploring until all the pieces fit together."
"Maybe," Skye said, her smile returning as she gave the bookshelf a final pat. "For now, though, this shelf is going to see a lot of use."
After checking out and arranging delivery, we rolled to a stop in front of the inn, the engine humming softly as it idled. "Thanks for today," I said, opening the door and stepping out onto the curb.
"Anytime, Erin," Skye said from the driver's seat, her eyes crinkling with a smile. "It was fun."
"Let's do it again soon," Aurelia said.
"Definitely," I said, closing the car door behind me.
As I walked up the path to my front door, arms full of the purchases too small to have delivered, they honked the jeep. Turning around, I saw them waving energetically through the open windows. I waved back, watching as they drove off down thestreet, their laughter just audible over the car fading into the distance.
I let myself into the house, the quiet greeting me like an old friend. Alone now, I leaned against the door, thinking about the day. Antiquing with Skye and Aurelia had been more than just a casual outing; it felt like I had found two kindred spirits in this town.
"Today was good," I said to the empty room, smiling at the thought of our next adventure.
I kicked off my shoes at the door, arms laden with the remnants of an antiquing haul that had gone better than any before. The foyer became a temporary resting place for a stack of vintage picture frames and a couple of ornate lamps I'd snagged at half-price. I grinned to myself; these would look perfect in the guest rooms, adding just the right touch of charm to the inn. The best part? They were all tax deductible.
"Erin?" Ashton's voice carried from the kitchen, warm and inviting. I followed the scent of tomato sauce and melted cheese to find him standing there with an array of pizza boxes spread out on the counter—margherita mingling with pepperoni and a daring pineapple concoction. My stomach rumbled its approval.
"Looks like you've got dinner covered," I said, admiring the spread.
"Thought you could use a feast after your big day," hesaid, his eyes crinkling with a smile as he reached down and placed a soft kiss on my lips.
Laurie was already perched at the breakfast nook, one hand balancing a plate piled high with slices, the other clutching Nyx, who had taken to her like a moth to a flame. "Nyx and I have a date with a psychology test," she said, sounding more excited than one should about academic assessments. "You can have the kitten back when I'm done."
"Good luck, and don't let her distract you too much." I chuckled, leaning over to plant a soft kiss atop Nyx's fuzzy head. The kitten mewed softly, snuggling closer to Laurie as if sensing the imminent separation. I gave them both a little wave and pulled up a chair next to Ashton, ready to dive into the pizza and share stories of our day.
"Before you start, come upstairs. I have something for you," Ashton said, his grin contagious as he juggled a couple of pizza boxes and sodas while I snagged some napkins and plates.
Curiosity piqued, I followed him up the narrow staircase, the wood creaking familiarly under our steps. His room greeted us, the understated luxury, now greeted us with a charming disarray. Some clothes strewn haphazardly, and a few forgotten papers lay scattered across the desk. But tonight, amidst the elegant chaos, it hosted an unusual addition—an electric heater withfake flames flickering behind the glass. I couldn't help but laugh.
"Isn't it great? It's like we have our own fireplace without any of the hassle," he chuckled, setting down our makeshift feast.
"Very practical," I said, playfully stretching my hands out to the contraption. "But I'm afraid it might not keep us warm."
