Page 56 of Something Old

The question caught Grant off guard. “Of course. Absolutely. One hundred percent!” He didn’t get a chance to elaborate or share his other good news and possibly brilliant ideas, however.

The bell on the door jangled, and Holly entered, her son Ryder on her hip. Grant gaped at them, stunned. Why were they here?

A curious expression crossed Holly’s face as she looked around. “What’s that smell?”

“What do you mean?” Madeline asked, and Grant hoped Holly wasn’t about to be rude.

“I’m not sure, exactly. Lavender and dish soap, maybe? Like my favorite aunt’s house!” Holly looked surprised, then wistful. “Yes, exactly like that. She died when I was a little girl. I haven’t thought of her so specifically in years.”

Grant didn’t know what to say. The Second Chance Shop did not smell like lavender. He hated the smell of lavender! Holly was clearly out to lunch—and yet, Madeline looked thoughtful.

“It’s funny. A lot of people comment on the scent in here, but everyone describes it slightly differently. I think maybe it’s related to nostalgia. Perhaps items we subconsciously recognize from our pasts bring us back to places in our memories where we’ve been happy or something, and our brains fill in the scents.”

“Hmm,” Holly said, but her open expression was already closing.

“You seem to have thought about this a lot,” Grant said.

“A bit,” Madeline replied. “Just because it comes up so often. You’re like me, right? You smell hints of lemon and peppermint.”

Grant inhaled appreciatively. “Yep,” he said and left it at that, though what he wanted to say was, Yes, I’m just like you. We’re the same.

Holly gave him a sharp look that didn’t fit with her next sickly-sweet coo, “Anyway, you are sooooo right, Grant. This place is totally adorable.”

Of course, he was right. Why would he lie about something like that? But maybe it explained why she was here? Maybe she wanted to shop? A bit strange though . . . At his dad’s place, she’d laughed at the idea of “musty old things” being a viable shop “theme.”

Madeline was watching him patiently but didn’t seem very curious. That wasn’t like her. Still, though he’d have been happiest if Madeline and Holly never had to meet, he’d better introduce them before it got weird.

“So, uh, Madeline, this is Holly—and Ryder.”

“I suspected! Hello, Holly. Hello, Ryder.” Her voice was friendly enough, but Grant noticed her smile didn’t suffuse her whole face the way it usually did.

“And Holly, Ryder—this is Madeline. My good . . . friend.”

“I also suspected.” Holly, bizarrely, sounded chilly. What was her glitch? Why come to the shop he’d mentioned in passing if she wasn’t interested in it? And why be rude to Madeline?

“Well,” Madeline said with gusto after a slightly awkward pause, getting up from her stool. “I should lock up. I really need to get better at watching the time!”

“Is it okay if she browses, or would you rather she come back another day?”

Both Madeline and Holly tilted their heads at his comment like it was gibberish.

“I’m sorry. Of course, you can look around,” Madeline said quickly. “I didn’t realize you were here to shop. Take all the time you want. I’ll just putter in the background. Holler if you need anything.”

“Oh no,” Holly said sweetly. “Don’t putter on my behalf. I didn’t come to shop. You caught me!”

Grant was genuinely confused. “Then, why are you here?”

Holly’s tinkling laugh filled the room—and interestingly, to Grant anyway, it seemed to grate on Madeline’s nerves the same way it did on his. He was distracted from that observation, however, because Holly rested her hand on his forearm. What was she doing?

“I’m here to take you for dinner, of course, silly.”

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh, come on.” Holly batted her eyes prettily, and her voice took on a beseeching note. “I insist. It’s been so long.”

What was Holly playing at now? It’s been “so long” because we’re divorced, he wanted to yell—but he saw something flit across Madeline’s face. Suddenly he got it. He actually knew what Holly was doing. Why she’d come to the store. Somehow, Holly had figured out that he had feelings for Madeline. How? Surely, the few tiny things he’d mentioned about Madeline the other night when Holly turned up at his father’s place unannounced couldn’t have clued her in.

And Madeline . . . Madeline was nodding at him and Holly as if encouraging this preposterous dinner idea.