I sidled past the group at the window to fill the potato chip racks.

Harrold's market had found a new purpose in life, other than the expected, a convenient central location to buy butter, toilet paper and cough syrup. Its placement along Main Street afforded it the best view of the town square. And the big front window, which was slightly tinted to keep out the harsh midday sun, made it the perfect place to view the clean up activity in the park.

Kathryn Mackson might still have had her nose in a crinkle about a stranger just marching into town to take apart the fountain, but she sure as heck spent a lot of her time staring out the shop window. Patty's interest in the scene across the street had waned some since our terrible fight. But she took the occasional free minute to stand with the other women and gaze out at the park.

Patty's neighbor, Sarah Hobson, stood next to Kathryn. Sarah graduated two years before me. She'd left to go to college, but had returned, degree in hand, to help her uncle run his hardware store. She had decided to take her lunch break at the market window. Her face was glued to the glass as she chomped on her tuna salad sandwich and talked about her wedding plans. She was about to marry Nate Goodson, her childhood sweetheart.

Every once in a while, she stopped chewing and listing flower choices to comment on Fynn.

"I still remember the first time he walked into the hardware store." She paused to sip some water. "Of course, first there was the obvious 'oh my, who is this guy' reaction because he was an unfamiliar face and because . . . well . . . that goes without saying." She laughed. "He bought gloves and a shovel and a few other tools. Uncle Graham thought up the theory that he was a serial killer going from town to town looking for victims."

Patty and I exchanged amused glances.

Kathryn placed her hand against her chest for dramatic effect. "My Brent still thinks there is something very untrustworthy about the man. I know he was going to do some snooping around to see if he could find out more about him." Kathryn then leaned closer to the window, apparently wanting to find out more about him too. It was hard for me to keep my lips sealed shut. But I'd always found it was easier to let Kathryn have her say and then let the words fritter away to be carried off by a breeze.

"But never would I have expected him to clean up the fountain," Sarah continued. "And he did a great job. I hear the seniors are already plotting the bubble bath prank for graduation. I can't believe school will be out in two weeks. Hey, maybe if the pavilion is all shined up, the sixth grade could . . ." Her words fell off, and she shoved her sandwich back into her mouth.

"Are my eyes deceiving me?" Fran pointed to something. "Is that Jilly walking across the park with a plate in her hand?"

Patty stretched up to see over the heads. "Do you think it's her chocolate donuts?"

Now they had my attention. I tossed the bag of chips back into the box and joined the others at the window. A foil tent covered the plate in Jilly's hands.

"Too tall. Blueberry muffins maybe," I surmised.

Patty's eyes gleamed as she stared out the window. "Remember those savory popovers she used to make for the holidays? Maybe she made popovers. God, what I wouldn't do to have one of those melt in your mouth popovers right now."

"I'm still thinking about the donuts." I hopped up on my tiptoes to get a better view. Jilly was a good ten years younger than my mom, but she normally looked ten years older. Only not today. Today, she'd brushed out the long hair she normally had tied up in a school teacher bun and she'd even put on some blush to cover her usual stay indoors pallor. I couldn't help but notice that her stride looked younger and less plodding than usual as she crossed the dead lawn to where the men were working.

Fran was holding her straw hat in her hand. She stepped away from the window and popped it on her head. "I'll go find out what she has and report back." She sighed. "A mayor's work is never done." She leaned closer and lowered her voice to a hushed tone even though there was no one else in the store. The rest of us instinctively calculated that a gossip nugget worthy of hearing was about to follow and leaned in.

"I'm sure you all recognize Russell's younger brother, Scott. He's going to be staying with us indefinitely. He's going through a nasty divorce. Anyhow, as you may or may not know, Jilly has always had a slight crush on Scott." She straightened. "And mystery solved. I just remembered that Scott loved her blueberry muffins the last time he was in town. I'm sure that's what she has on the plate."

With the possibility of Jilly's chocolate donuts removed, I returned to my task. "I'm going to finish this display and then take lunch, Patty."

"The new shipment of soda is coming in today so plan on stacking refrigerators this afternoon." Since our falling out, Patty had taken on a more managerial tone with me. At first, it had rubbed me the wrong way, but I'd decided to take it in stride. I'd also decided not to tip toe around about my friendship with Fynn. The more time I spent with him, the more attached I became. As thrilled as I was about having something new and different to look forward to each day, I was equally terrified about what would happen when Fynn and Boone climbed into their van and drove away. My heart felt heavy just thinking about it.

Sarah walked over and picked up a bag of corn chips from the display. "So, Ella, rumor has it that you and the gorgeous fountain fixer are engaging in some heavy duty flirting."

I kept my focus on the chip display but couldn't stop a smile. "You could say that."

"Good for you." She pulled out her phone. "I haven't shown you my dress yet." I figured the topic would quickly switch back to the wedding. I was relieved. I had no desire to talk about my relationship with Fynn because I knew it would become a central topic in town. So much of my life revolved around things that happened in town, in fact nearly all of my life was Butterfield focused, it was nice to have something that wasn't solely connected to my family and neighbors.

I smiled and made nice comments about Sarah's dress as she scrolled through the hundred million pictures she had of the gown.

"I wonder if it's warm enough outside for him to take off his shirt?" Fran asked as her gaze returned to the window.

"Who? Russell?" Kathryn asked, knowing full well who Fran meant.

"Oh please." Fran laughed. "I have to remind him to 'put a shirt on'. Anyhow, I need to get to the office." She headed to the door and looked back at all of us, but her final gaze landed on me. "It's nice to see a little life in that old park, don't you think?"

"Yes it is," I agreed.