Ava snickers. “She used an urn as a cookie jar?”
“That’s what she said. Not that she would’ve had any use for it. Gloria doesn’t believe in cremation. Her loved ones were buried in Wintersgate Cemetery.” Mrs.Hampson’s eyes fly to mine. “Not that there’s anything wrong with cremation, dear. Gloria’s just an old soul, is all.”
I smile to assure her that I’m not offended. There was never a chance I was being lowered into the ground. It was one of the many things that Garrett and I wholeheartedly agreed on. It was also a source of contention with his Catholic mother, but not even she could sway us.
“Well, I think this will be used for its intended purpose,” I say, looking to Ava. “It’s time to move your dad out of that plain container and into a home that’s more suitable.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her sad eyes. “Yeah. It is time.”
The door to the shop flies open and a group of local women come barreling in, chirping about town gossip.
“The cock that crows at the wrong time is killed,” Mrs.Hampson calls out, and one of the women, Mrs.Jenkins, splutters.
“What on earth are you talking about, Tilda? It’s near time for our Red Hatter meeting. We’re right on time.”
Matilda glances at her watch and frowns. “Damn it. She’s right,” she whispers to us. “I hate when Nan Jenkins bests me.”
She closes up the last box and stands, turning toward her company. “Turn that sign toClosed. I’m just finishing up. Hats on, ladies. We have a festival to finish planning.”
They each pull a red hat from their bags, situating them onto their heads. They’re in an assortment of styles, each more elaborate than the next. Nan Jenkins’s takes the cake.
Its wide bill looks like something an old-time baseball player would wear, more pink than red, with feathers of various colors splayed across the crown of her head, making her look like a deranged peacock. Add to that her burgundy pantsuit, and it makes quite the ensemble.
“One day soon, you’ll join us, Alyssa.” Nan smiles and I wince.
Today of all days, I don’t need the reminder of how I’m moving closer to the ranks of the Red Hatters.
I head in the direction of the cash register.
When I’ve settled my bill, I rush Ava toward the door, calling out a farewell to Mrs.Hampson and thanking her for the incredible dishes. I balance the box and bags in my hands, trying to clear my view so that I don’t walk into the street or into a person. As I shift the box, two men walk out of Milly’s Diner.
Nick West and a handsome stranger with black hair and deep brown eyes walk toward us dressed in street clothes, jeans, and long-sleeved Henley shirts. I try my best to hide behind the box, but it’s no use.
“Alyssa?” Nick says, and I stop walking, peeking around the box.
“Hey, Nick,” I say, nodding at them both in turn. “And...” My words trail off as I settle on the younger man with him.
His hand juts out and he takes a step toward me. I lift the box slightly to indicate I can’t shake his hand, and his arm drops back to his side. “Eric Malone. This grump’s partner.” He tilts his head toward Nick, offering a charming smile, complete with deep dimples on both cheeks. “And you are?”
“This is my neighbor Alyssa Mann, and her daughter, Ava.” Nick jumps in to make the introduction.
Eric smirks at Nick, who quickly turns his gaze away. I wonder for a moment what that was about but quickly push it away. What do I care what he’s saying about me?
“Do you need help with that?” Nick moves forward, not waiting for my reply.
“No, I...” He lifts the box from my hands. “Thanks,” I grumble, just barely able to contain my annoyance at his continued chivalry. It’s even worse considering he witnessed me in all my glorious mess the other night.
“Where’s your car?”
I raise my arm, pointing toward the white Volvo parked at the end of the block. Eric takes the box Ava’s carrying and follows Nick toward the vehicle. I rush forward, hoping to get the car unlocked, boxes situated, and Ava and me out of here before anything is said about the other night.
No such luck.
“How are you?” Nick asks, after he’s placed the box into theback seat. “I meant to stop by, but I saw Ava backing her car out of the garage.” He smiles over at Ava. “It’s good to see you, Ava.”
“You too, Mr.West. How’s life?”
Nick chuckles. “Life is busy, but I can’t complain. How’s art school?”
