Page 84 of Hats off to Love

“We did.” He looks around the shop. I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but with each second, my steely resolve is crumbling. Eventually his eyes land on the back counter, and his frown deepens. It’s the counter that started what was the best night of my life.

Don’t look at the counter, Stokes. I can’t take it. Don’t make me remember more than I already do.

It hurts. It hurts to know I’m not enough for him. It hurts to know all I’m ever going to get are just these few moments with him. It all just hurts.

“I’m going to go.” He pulls his hand from his pocket and points a thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “At least I know,” he says, his eyes locking with mine, “you’re fine.”

“Yep. I’m great. Thanks for stopping by.”

He stares at me for a few more moments, lets out a rush of air, and turns around on his heel. Without saying another word, he’s out the door and gone. As it closes and the ringing of the bell dies down, my spirit howls.

I don’t know how to recover from this.

How do I look at him after knowing all that I know?

I really did think there was something there.

Collapsing back in my seat, I lay my head on the table and cry. I can’t stop the tears that fill my eyes and silently run down the side of my face. I’ve always said I know Stokes better than anyone else. I’ve gotten to see the good and the evil, but now I can add his loving side to the list as well. He may not have meant to have shown me this side, but he did, and after this, I’ll be forced to stand in the background and watch as he one day gives all of himself to someone else.

Someone who’s not me.

30

I’ve decided there are only two things for me to do today, sleep or clean, and since yesterday after Stokes left I went straight up to my apartment, climbed under my blankets, and shut out the world, today I must clean.

I’m down in my shop. All the inventory has been moved, and I am scrubbing floor to ceiling: the walls, the shelves, the windows, the baseboards, and the floors. You’d think since I’ve only been open for a few months, it would still be pretty clean, but nope. With the winter and spring weather and the traffic in and out of the shop, it’s dirtier than I expected.

I’m on my hands and knees when the door opens and Birdie pops in looking as fresh as a daisy in white linen pants, a deep green sweater, and gold sandals. I went ahead and left it open; after all, I’m in here, so may as well not miss any potential sales.

“Hello, darling,” she calls out, and I hop up from the floor.

“Hi.” I smile at her and wipe my hands on my already dirty shorts. “I didn’t know you were coming by today.” I walk toward her and let her wrap me in her arms.

“I had some business in town and thought I’d stop in and say hello.”

Her arms feel so good. She gives me the most needed hug I think I’ve ever needed in my life then pulls back, keeping hold of my arms.

“I see,” she says as she studies my face and frowns. “This explains a lot.” Her words are cryptic.

I understand what she’s looking at—I look dreadful. There are bags under my eyes, my hair is flat and gross even though I’ve wrapped a scarf around it to keep it off my face, and well, I am a hot mess.

Stokes used to call me that frequently. I guess he was right.

Letting go of me, she begins to walk around and observe. She sees the small selection of remaining inventory and smiles. “I can’t get over how successful you’ve been here. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve known your talent since you were a young girl, but what you’ve done here . . . I’m just so proud of you.”

Tears well in my eyes. Yes, I have a mother, but Birdie has been such a constant and an inspiration in my life. She is a second mother, and her praise means something to me.

“Thank you. And I can’t say thanks enough for the tip on this space. It’s worked out so well, and I love it here.” I glance up at the chandeliers and smile. They were my big splurge, and they were so worth it.

“I really can’t take the credit for that. Stokes was the one who told me I should pass along the information to you.” She eyes me knowingly.

My eyes widen. “What? Stokes?”

I’m shocked. I specifically remember having a conversation with my mother right after I moved back about real estate, and Birdie randomly chimed in. She said she heard through the grapevine this spot was opening, and she thought the neighborhood would be perfect for me. I had no idea any of it was his doing.

She gives me a look that says, Y’all were fooling no one. “He knew you would have rejected it immediately on principle if he suggested it, so he asked that I tell you. I guess he had been watching the inventory around him closely to see when something was opening up.”

“Oh, for sure I would have,” I tell her. There’s no point in trying to convince her otherwise. She knows me—and apparently Stokes does too.