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CHAPTER THREE

The following afternoon, Hazel walked into town with no real purpose. The sun shone against her back, warming her as she followed the road into town. Once on the main drag, she noticed the new hardware store that she’d passed when she first arrived. She studied the sign and noticed the name, Picketts Hardware, had been made entirely of nails and screws. Hazel had grown up knowing everyone in town, so she headed inside to introduce herself.

Passing rows of bolts, power tools and paint tins, Hazel made her way to the front counter where she found a petite older woman. The woman had hair the colour of a ripe peach piled on top of her head in a large wispy bun. Her bright blue eyes crinkled behind her black cat eye glasses.

“Darling! Welcome. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Hi, I’m Hazel. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Molly McCleod’s daughter.”

“Ah, yes indeed you are. I’m Millie Picketts. You know, you and your mother both have that same little mouth, ooh it would look lovely with a lick of red lippy.” Millie winked. “So, I hear you’ve moved back from Sydney?”

Hazel had forgotten how fast news travelled in small towns.

“I wouldn’t say moved exactly, more like visiting. I’ve reached a crossroad it seems, so I’m lying low until I can figure out my next move.”

“Well, my dear, I’ve a gift with the tea leaves. May seem like sludge in the bottom of a cup to some, but those leaves will tell me your next move. Would you like a cuppa?” Millie smiled a captivating grin that almost had Hazel agreeing, until a burly man with thick dark hair appeared at the counter next to her.

“Oh dear, enough with the tea leaves Mill. The poor girl doesn’t want a cup. I’m George.” He reached out a hand for Hazel to shake.

“Hazel is Molly McCleod’s daughter,” Millie told her husband. Hazel smiled at George as bells chimed at the opening of the door.

“Ah, here’s our favourite customer!” Millie clapped her hands and waved to the man who had just walked in. Hazel turned and saw Sam. She let out a loud internal groan and tried to look away.

“Hi Millie, hello George. Just came in for some more nails and painter’s tape.” Sam grabbed the two items he needed from the shelves as he continued down the aisle.

Ugh, why is he so good looking? His dark blonde hair was a little unruly, mussed from a hard day’s work. It was painful to look at him, but also painful to not look at him. Hazel forced herself to stare at the ceiling. She focused on an exposed nail that stood out from the white paint on the plasterboard.

“Hey Hazel,” Sam grinned at her as he placed his items on the counter.

“Hi,” she mumbled back, trying, and failing, not to look at him. He was still smiling at her, the lines around his eyes creased as he shot her his winning smile. She couldn’t help but give him a meek smile in return.

“How is Molly’s house coming along?” Millie asked Sam, as George wrote each of Sam’s items on a sheet of paper.

Sam dragged his eyes from Hazel to look at Millie. “Good, I’m doing the main bathroom at the moment. Hopefully that will be done by the end of next week, then I think Molly wants me to take a look at the kitchen?” Sam turned back to Hazel who nodded passively in agreement.

“Oh, how exciting. Georgie can we get Sam to do our kitchen?” Millie asked sweetly.

“I can do the kitchen! I’m a builder too!” George grumbled.

“Yes, dear, of course, but I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself!”

George snickered. “I think I’d be okay, love.”

“Uh, we’re gonna go, but we hope you have a nice afternoon,” Sam said as he began to move backwards towards the door. He motioned for Hazel to follow him.

“Yes, it was lovely to meet you both!” Hazel added, her heart thumping at the thought of leaving with him.

“Bye dearies,” Millie replied before returning to George to continue their good-natured bickering.

Sam opened the door for Hazel, and they both stepped outside the shop.

“They’re a nice couple, but they’re always squabbling about something. It all comes from a place of love, though.” Sam chuckled a little. Hazel gave him a small smile. “So, er, what are you doing in town this afternoon?” Sam asked.

“Well, I was thinking of going for a walk, maybe heading to The Beach Café.”

“The Beach Café closed down about a year ago.”

“What?” Hazel asked, shocked. “Mum never told me that! Or maybe she did,” she trailed off remembering their earlier conversation about her memory, or lack thereof.