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“They’re loud. But yes, they are wonderful.”
They ate quietly for a moment. The fire crackled in the other room, and the wind pressed lightly against the windows. Erin watched Claire cut her green beans in half before eating them and filed it away alongside everything else she had learned since meeting her: the way Claire folded kitchen towels into thirds, the sound she made when pleasure overtook her composure, how often Claire had made her laugh since yesterday.
Every answer Claire gave made Erin want another. She wanted the stories behind Claire’s habits, the places she had loved, the mistakes she still thought about, and the memories that made her laugh. There weren’t enough hours left in the evening to learn everything she wanted to know. Even the days remaining before Claire left after New Year’s suddenly felt far too few.
For all practical purposes, the woman across from her was still a stranger. Erin had never been more eager to change that.
“Can I ask about your schedule this week?”
Erin set down her fork. “Sure. The shop is closed today and tomorrow. I reopen the twenty-seventh through the thirtieth. Reduced hours, but the ski resort traffic makes it worth staying open. And I’ll open for a few hours New Year’s Eve morning before I close early.”
“So tomorrow you’re free.”
“Completely.”
Claire met her eyes. “Would you like to show me Ouray?”
“I’d love to,” Erin said.
They ate for a moment before Claire reached across the table and touched Erin’s hand. “It’s crazy to think that just yesterday morning, I didn’t know you existed,” she said. “I keep remembering that and finding it difficult to believe.”
Erin turned her hand beneath Claire’s. “I’ve been doing the same thing.”
Claire took a sip of wine. “Have you ever met someone and found yourself talking to them as though you’d known them for years?”
“Yes, a few times. Ingrid came into the shop as a customer, and we ended up talking for nearly two hours.”
“What about?”
“Everything, somehow. The shop, living here, the people we missed. Every time she headed for the door, one of us thought of something else to say.”
Claire smiled. “And now she does your books.”
“That came later. First, she became my friend.”
“It doesn’t happen often, though.” Erin reached for her glass, then paused. “That easy feeling.”
“I know.” Claire cut another piece of her meat. “I’ve had perfectly pleasant evenings where I spent half the time trying to think of the next question.”
“And then once in a while, you meet someone and realize you’ve been talking for three hours.” Erin held Claire’s gaze for a moment before lifting her wine. “Kind of like us.”
Claire smiled. “Yes. Like us.”
Erin raised her glass. “I’m glad you came into the shop.”
“So am I. Imagine, I went out for a vibrator on Christmas Eve and came home with a dinner date.”
“And I got an appetizer.” Erin winked.
Claire laughed. “You seemed to enjoy it.”
“Very much.” Erin smiled. “If dessert is anything like the appetizer, neither of us is getting much sleep.”
Claire’s foot settled beside Erin’s beneath the table. The contact was slight, but she left it there, another quiet point where their bodies met. Claire raised Erin’s hand and kissed her fingers. “Finish your dinner.”
“Are you worried I’ll go hungry?”
“I intend to keep you awake for quite a while. You’ll need your strength.”
