She frowns, obviously not ready to be done with this subject, but ultimately, she relents, leaning forward to grab the remote from the leather ottoman.
“Something funny.” She points the remote toward the eighty-six-inch smart TV mounted to the wall.
I smile and nod. We could both use a little laughter.
We snuggle in close and spend the rest of the day watching romantic comedies and laughing until happy tears stream down our faces.
The events of the night before fade, and all is right with the world again.
The Empress
THE FALL SEASONin Knox Harbor is as close to heaven as you can get. The enchanting New England town boasts a covered bridge that welcomes visitors into downtown as they cross over a pristine stream that empties into the bay.
As soon as you exit the cover of the red-roofed passage, you’re greeted with cobblestone sidewalks and Victorian-style storefronts straight out of a fairy tale.
I take it all in, realizing how lucky I am to call this place home.
I lift my face to the warm sun and inhale a deep, calming breath, savoring the peacefulness of this moment. The crisp air coming off the bay is tempered by the full sun overhead, making it a perfect day for a stroll along the tree-lined streets.
Having Ava by my side only heightens the perfection, and I don’t want to think about how that all ends tomorrow when she heads back to school.
We’ve spent the day browsing through the specialty shops that dot the charming Main Street. My hands are full of bags from twoboutiques that Ava insisted we visit. I have no need for more clothes, yet somehow I was talked into three new outfits, all in the name of the birthday that never ends.
We walk past the antique shop, Marmalade and Rye, and Ava squeals.
“Mom, look,” she says, pointing toward the beautiful window display.
A storefront is like the cover of a book, luring you in to discover the treasures hidden in its depths. The perfect cover will guarantee a browse, even if the interior doesn’t match the excellence.
Marmalade and Rye does it right with the nearly full-sized picture window decorated for the season, pairing perfectly with the red facade of the building. But it’s when you step inside that you find the pretty packaging is only the beginning of the true magic. The beautiful building and display are offset by the most wonderful antiques.
Turquoise Turkish dishes in varying shapes and sizes have me stopping to gape. I’ve never been a collector of anything apart from handcrafted Turkish treasures. It was my one indulgence that I never felt bad about.
“For your birthday. Time to splurge.” Ava grabs my arm, ushering me through the door.
“You said the same thing about the pantsuit I’ll never wear.” I groan.
“Alyssa!” the elderly Mrs.Hampson exclaims, clapping her hands as she hurries toward us on shaky legs. “I haven’t seen you in here in ages. How are you, darling?”
Mrs.Hampson is a petite woman. Her white hair, streaked with gray, is pulled into a French twist like it is every day, and she’s wearing her signature blue pantsuit that matches her cornflower eyes.
She grabs my shoulders, and I bend down so that she can kiss both cheeks.
“Let me guess,” she says, backing away, eyes smiling. “You saw my display.”
I chuckle. “You know me too well, Mrs.Hampson.”
She bats her hands at me. “None of that. Matilda will work just fine. Come.” She motions for us to follow her to the window.
“Wow,” I breathe, taking in the vast collection. “I’ve never seen so many together.”
Matilda’s head bobs. “Poor Mrs.Craft had to sell off her collections to pay for her son’s funeral.” She mumbles under her breath, but I don’t miss her words. “That fool Ollie didn’t deserve the beautiful wake she gave him.” She scowls, shaking her head and looking back to me, plastering a smile across her face. “Her loss is your gain, if I do say so.”
Eyeing the dishes, I wonder how much this collection costs, if she was able to pay for a wake with the profits.
“Too expensive for me,” I murmur. “Can I purchase one dish?”
Mrs.Hampson shakes her head. “It’s a set. I really can’t sell one piece separately.”
