When Lindy pulled up in front of the shop, she noticed a man in a fawn-colored overcoat waiting on the sidewalk. She wondered what was so important to him that he’d wait outside on a chilly day when the shop was obviously closed.
“Can I help you?” she asked as she approached him.
“Are you Lindy? I’m Doug Wall.”
The name sounded familiar . . .
“We chatted on Facebook.”
“Oh, that’s right. I’m sorry, Mr. Wall, but I’m in a huge hurry. Could we talk later?” Or never. She was flexible.
“I’ve driven up from Denver—could you possibly spare me a minute?”
She tried not to roll her eyes, but they rolled anyway. “Mr. Wall, perhaps you should have made an appointment before driving all that way instead of expecting me to drop everything when you got here. I’m only home long enough to grab a few things and take them to the hospital, where my aunt is getting ready for back surgery. I really am in a hurry.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Is she going to be all right?”
“They seem to think so, yes. But that doesn’t magically give me all kinds of free time in my schedule.”
Mr. Wall nodded. “I understand. I’ve dropped in unannounced, and this is the worst possible timing. I was just hoping to see if a face-to-face meeting could persuade Celeste to reconsider.”
Enough. Just . . . enough. “Mr. Wall, I appreciate that a businessman has to be persistent, but you’ve crossed way over that line and now you’re being rude. We’re on chapter three hundred of a family emergency, and your presence here is neither welcome nor invited. If my aunt does decide to sell, I’m going to move heaven and earth to make sure she doesn’t sell to you. Now get off this property.”
Mr. Wall’s mouth opened and closed a few times, but he didn’t take a step.
“A pox upon you!”
Lindy startled and turned around. Ambrosia from the crystal shop down the street was charging down the pavement, her scarves flying every direction. “A pox upon your house, a pox upon your children, a pox upon your homeowners’ association! Be gone with you, flea of the everlasting pit!”
Mr. Wall stumbled backwards. “Wh-what?”
“A pox, a pox, a pox!” Ambrosia waved her hands in his face. “Eye of newt, skein of yarn, spool of thread . . .”
“I’m going!” Mr. Wall dashed down the street, glancing over his shoulder as he went.
Lindy watched him go with great satisfaction. Then she turned to Ambrosia. “Skein of yarn?”
Ambrosia shrugged. “When you’re making stuff up, you never know what’s going to come out of your mouth. Who was that man? I could only tell that he was making you upset.”
“His name is Doug Wall. He wants to buy the shop from Aunt Celeste.”
“He does?” Ambrosia stared after him. “She’s not thinking about selling, is she?”
“She’s thought about it, but I’m hoping I’ve gotten her talked out of it.”
“And what was going on with the ambulance earlier? Someone said Celeste fell.”
“She did. Surgery in the morning.”
Ambrosia shook her head. “Oh, that’s just rotten. Such a nice lady—one of the nicest I’ve ever met. Here.” She dug in her pocket and brought out a small stone. “This is smoky quartz. It’s good for back pain. I’ve got better stuff back at the shop, but take this for now.”
Lindy slipped the rock into her own pocket. “Thank you, Ambrosia.” She didn’t know if she was totally down with everything Ambrosia said, but the woman’s heart was tender and kind, and she appreciated the thoughtfulness. Then she giggled. “Oh, my gosh. You make the best fake witch.”
Ambrosia shrugged. “I figured I might as well live up to my reputation. Take care, sweetie. Let me know how things go.”
“I will. Thanks again.”
Lindy unlocked the shop door, grabbed some paper and made a sign, then posted on Facebook. Alan showed up just as she was getting ready to head upstairs.
“Hey,” he said. “Come here.”
She looked at his outstretched arms skeptically. “But your ribs . . .”
“If we’re very, very careful and neither of us squeezes too tight, my ribs should be fine for a hug.”
She walked up to him cautiously. “You’ll tell me if I squish you?”
“I’m pretty sure that my yelp of pain will be an accurate indicator, but yes. I will tell you.”
She nodded, then stepped into his arms. Even with such a feather-light touch, it felt so good.
He ran his fingers through her hair. “Tell me how I can help.”
“Considering that you’re pretty much an invalid, how about if you follow me around and cheer me on?”
“I can do that.”
Within just a few minutes, she’d grabbed clothing and toiletries for herself and for her aunt. She didn’t know if Celeste would be allowed to wear her own pajamas at any point, but she grabbed some just in case, knowing that the pink poodle set was her favorite. She got the hairbrush, the new toothbrush, and the stack of books on the nightstand. Then she stood in the middle of the room, trying to figure out what went next.
“My brain just shut down,” she said. “I can’t even think of what else to grab.”
“Maybe that’s because you’re done,” Alan suggested. “You can’t think of anything else because there is nothing else.”
“Either that, or there’s just been too much upheaval lately and I feel like I’m spinning out of control.”
“Or that.” Alan wrapped his arm around Lindy’s shoulders. “Did you eat today?”
“Breakfast, yes.” That seemed like a million years ago.
“You look like someone who needs a good lunch. And I look like someone who would enjoy taking you to lunch.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “You do, huh?”
“I definitely do. It’s all in the jawline.”
She laughed. “I’ll have to remember that. Yes, lunch sounds good. Let me take a minute here to walk through everything in my mind, and then we’ll go.” Books, toothbrush, hairbrush, clothes … “I’ve heard that in some countries, you have to bring your own linens with you if you’re staying at the hospital.”
“Nice that we don’t have to do that here.”
“Yes. And easy access to potatoes. Idaho is so awesome.”
He kissed her forehead. “Yes, it is. Have you thought of anything else?”
“No, and I just realized that if I forgot something, chances are good that I can buy another one in Lewiston. Or Clarkston, which is right nearby. I don’t think there’s a Sacagaweaston, but I think I should Google that.”
Alan chuckled. “Lunch first. Googling second.”
“Might be a good idea.”
Lindy carried the two suitcases down to her car, checked to make sure everything in the shop was turned off, triple-checked the stove upstairs, and locked the doors. Then she set the security alarm.
“If you need to come back, you can come back,” Alan told her as she stared up at the building, wondering what she’d forgotten. “It’s not that far.”
“That’s true. I’m just . . . All my control issues are coming out right now. Celeste took care of me, so I want to take care of her, but I need to do an amazing job to show her how grateful I am.”
“I think she knows,” Alan started, but Lindy shook her head.
“I know she knows, but I need to feel that I’ve done enough to show her. I’m repaying a life debt—she saved me. She didn’t just give me a place to live.”
“She’s an amazing woman.”
“Yes, she really is.” Lindy pulled in a deep breath. “All right, let’s go. Food. You’re right—I need to get a little food going on here. Did you drive?”
“Nope—still on meds. My neighbor dropped me off.”
“I’ll take you home after lunch.”
“Just let me tag along with you. I’ll figure it out. Worse comes to worst, I’ll hitch a ride on a UPS truck.” He winked, and she laughed. She was so glad he’d shown up.
***
By the time they had eaten and made it back to the hospital, Celeste had been moved to a room, and Joan was there. Lindy gave her mother a hug and didn’t let her go for a long moment.
“What’s the matter?” Joan asked when Lindy finally released her.
“That’s such a long story, I’m not even sure where to start,” Lindy replied. “Let’s start with the most fun things first. Mom, this is Alan.”
Joan turned to Alan, her eyes alight with curiosity. “Hello,” she said, reaching out to shake his hand. “I’m Joan, Lindy’s mother.”
He took her hand. “It’s great to meet you. Alan Murray.”
“Alan’s our UPS driver. He brings us our supplies, and he sometimes kisses me,” Lindy said. “Well, he’s only kissed me a couple of times so far, but I have every hope that it will continue.”
“I didn’t realize UPS offered kissing,” Joan said, a bemused smile on her face.
“It’s not something we advertise.” Alan nodded toward Lindy. “And it’s only for special customers.”
Lindy threaded her arm through her mother’s. “So, how is she?” she asked, nodding toward the bed.
“They’ve given her a lot of pain killers and are doing everything they can to make her comfortable for the surgery,” Joan replied. “Beyond that, it’s just a waiting game.”
“I don’t like waiting.” Lindy watched the numbers on Celeste’s monitor. She didn’t understand what they meant. If Celeste were a dog or a cat, she’d have a better idea of what was going on, but she had never studied vital signs on a human being.
“The good news is, they don’t seem to be saying that anything’s life-threatening,” Joan said.
“I’ll keep focusing on that, but paralysis isn’t a great outcome either.”
“Of course it’s not. But if I know my sister, she’s going to be out playing soccer in a month. Just watch her. She’ll beat every odd there is.”
Now that Lindy was back, Joan left to check into the hotel and set up a sort of base camp. She’d checked, and the hotel room she’d reserved had both a fridge and a microwave. She’d stop by the store and get some breakfast foods to make things easier. Then she’d come back and send Lindy to the hotel for a nap.
“Your mom seems like a great lady,” Alan said, reaching over and taking Lindy’s hand.
“She’s awesome. She and my dad didn’t really want to move to Boise, but she found a teaching position there, and they’ve settled in. My brothers are both going to college now, and my dad’s puttering around to his heart’s content now that he’s retired.”
“He’s retired? He can’t be that old.”
“He is, actually. There’s an age difference between him and my mom. It never really mattered to them, though. They act like any other happily married couple I’ve seen.”
Alan brushed his thumb across the backs of her knuckles. “And you’d like a marriage like that.”
“Of course. They’re always there for each other, always supporting each other. I’m not saying I want to marry someone a ton older than me, but I do want that kind of stability.” For a fleeting instant, she wondered if that’s why she’d been attracted to Dusty. Maybe older guys were a thing for her, and she’d never realized it. Maybe she had a psychological complex and should have treatment. Or it could be the fact that Dusty was extremely hot. She’d have to weigh both alternatives.
Celeste moaned a little bit, and Lindy was up and at her side in a flash. “Hey, Aunt Celeste,” she said. “What’s the matter?”
“I think I broke my back,” Celeste replied. “We might want to look into that.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” Lindy took her aunt’s hand. “Can I get you anything?”
“A massage. That would really be awesome, thanks.”
“I’ll get you one as soon as I can.”
“Thanks. You’re a doll.” Celeste passed a hand over her face. “What time is it? How long until they give me happy juice and put me to sleep?”
Lindy glanced at the clock. “Not for a while—about sixteen hours.”
“Are you serious? Women have babies quicker than that.”
“Yeah, but the specialist is out of town and he’s on his way back right now.”
“And we should probably wait for him, right?”
Lindy chuckled. “Yeah, we probably should.”
“All right, fine.” Celeste paused. “So, you got everything squared away at the shop?”
“Sure did, and you missed something hysterical. Doug Wall came by, and Ambrosia scared him off.”
Celeste blinked. “Doug Wall came by?”
“Yeah. He was feeling sorry for himself because he’d driven up from Denver.” When Celeste didn’t reply, Lindy said, “Are you okay?”
“Just thinking. Are you sure I shouldn’t sell?”
Lindy huffed with exasperation. “I thought we’d been through this.”
“We have been, but that was when I just had a back injury. Now it’s actually broken, and I keep thinking that it’s a sign.”
“It’s a sign that you probably rushed using the shower chair! Come on, Aunt Celeste. You love your shop.”
“I do love my shop. But I’ve loved it for years, and I’m wondering if I shouldn’t start loving something else now.”
Lindy glanced at Alan over her shoulder. He shrugged—he didn’t know what to say any more than she did.
“Let’s talk about it tomorrow, all right? Once you’re out of surgery?”
“You know we won’t talk about it tomorrow. You’ll want to wait until I’m out of pain, and then you’ll want to wait until I’m walking. You’ll keep putting it off, and we can’t put off the hard conversations, Lindy. We have to face things. I don’t think you want me to sell, but you’re right. We’ll at least wait until after the surgery.”
The nurse came in to check Celeste’s vitals, and Lindy sat back down next to Alan. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to talk her out of this,” Lindy said in an undertone. “She seems pretty determined this time.”
“Are you sure you should be talking her out of it?”
Lindy exhaled. “I don’t know. If we’re look at this purely from the standpoint of her health, yes, she should sell. But there are other variables too—and I don’t know. I have a headache.”
Alan reached for her hand and started rubbing it. “It’s not your job to have all the answers,” he said after a moment. “She’s an adult, and she’ll figure it out. Plus, your mom’s here, and she can be a sounding board too. This weight you’re carrying—it’s not actually yours to carry.”
Lindy wasn’t expecting the tears that sprang to her eyes. He was right—of course he was. But she liked to fix things. She was a fixer. “You know what?” she said at last.
“Hmm?”
“You’re Colonel Brandon.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I’m pretty sure my name is Alan Murray. I can check my birth certificate if you want, but yeah, I’m pretty sure.”
“No, silly. From the movie Sense and Sensibility. Haven’t you ever seen it?”
“Are you talking about the Emma Thompson version, or the newer one put out by the BBC? They each have their good points, but one can never top Alan Rickman in the role.”
She gasped in mock dismay. “You . . . you stinker. I’d slug your shoulder if you didn’t have ribs. I mean, injured ribs. You know what I mean.”
He grinned. “I deserve it. Now, go on with your analogy. This is quite interesting.”
“Well, it’s like this. At the beginning, Marianne’s head over heels for Willoughby, but Colonel Brandon is calm and steady, and he’s absolutely wonderful and takes care of everyone around him. I admit, for a whole lot of my life, I’ve had a crush on Dusty Quinn, but then you came along and you’re just . . . you’re absolutely wonderful and you take care of everyone. You’re a Colonel Brandon.”
“Hmm. You know what’s even more interesting about that analogy?”
“What’s that?”
He gave her hand a squeeze. “It’s Colonel Brandon who gets the girl in the end.”