“Hello,” she said, obviously not remembering me.
“Hey, Mrs. Jones. I’m January—Althea’s daughter?” My mother had shopped here all through her life.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Of course you are. I remember you when you were a tiny sprout. Are you visiting your mother? I haven’t seen her in ages,” Flo said.
Apparently some people hadn’t heard. “My mother passed away earlier this year, along with my father. They were in a car crash. I moved back to town last week.”
Flo’s face fell. “I’m so sorry, dear. I didn’t know.” She leaned across the counter to take my hands. “My apologies, and condolences.”
“Don’t worry about it. You didn’t know.” I paused, then pointed to the window. “The blue gown. You wouldn’t happen to have it in my size, would you? I’m a size 14.”
She bustled around the counter. “I’ll check—I think I do, actually. That gown comes in sizes up to 28, and I always stock at least one of each size.” She paused, glancing at Killian. “Is this your husband? I know you were married and living in Seattle.”
I choked back a laugh. “No, no. I’m divorced now. This is my neighbor, Killian O’Connell.”
“I’m also her new boyfriend,” Killian said, giving Flo a deep nod.
I froze. He had actually used the word! I felt as giddy as a teenager.
Flo stopped at one of the racks and sorted through the nightgowns. “Here it is, I thought maybe I had sold this one, but here’s a 14. Would you like to try it on?”
Some size 14s didn’t fit so well because of my bust. Bigger bra cups meant some styles wouldn’t work, but halter tops were easy enough, as long as there was enough material to cover my boobs. “No, this will be fine.”
She carried it to the counter and wrapped it up for me in tissue paper, then put it in a box and slid it into a bag with the name of the store emblazoned across the front of it. “That will be $83.50, please.”
I saw Killian start to pull out his wallet and stopped him. “Put that away. At this point in our relationship, I still buy my own nightclothes and underwear.” I handed her my credit card and then, carrying the bag, steered Killian back outside.
“Well, it’s a beautiful gown, I’ll say that,” Killian said. “It will look wonderful on you and I hope I get a chance to see it.”
“You will. I promise.” I winked at him.
We crossed the street to Rarities, Inc., and pushed through the door. The shop was filled with people for whom antiquing was a verb. The store was crammed full of goodies, from old milk cans circa 1940 to rocking chairs to kitschy 1980s brass urns. I looked around, trying to find the lamp that Ari had shown me a picture of. Finally, I got in line and waited till the clerk at the counter was free. I brought out my phone—Ari had texted me a picture of the lamp—and showed her.
“Do you still have this vase?”
The clerk stared at it for a moment, then frowned. “Oh, I remember that. No, I’m sorry, we sold that yesterday.”
So much for my gift idea. I sighed. “Thank you anyway.” I turned back to Killian. “So much for that.” I looked around and stopped as my gaze fell on a beautiful bottle. It was a perfume bottle, an ornate lavender-smoke color. I picked it up. Something sparked as I touched it—my fingers felt like they had just been given a little shock. I stared at the bottle for a moment. I had no earthly use for it, but I wanted it. Turning back to the clerk, I said, “I don’t see a price tag.”
She paused, then said, “Twenty-five.”
I usually wasn’t the type for impulse purchases, but I knew in my core that I’d regret it if I passed it up and somebody else bought it.
“All right, I’ll take this.” Setting it on the counter, I glanced around for Killian. He was over in the corner, perusing a stack of old books. “Find anything?”
“Yeah, actually, here’s one about places to hike near Moonshadow Bay. I love hiking.” He closed it and brought it to the counter. “You find a substitute for Ari’s gift?”
I shook my head. “No, I’ll have to think of something else. I did find something for myself, though.”
We carried our bags back to my car and locked them in the back. Then, we drove a few blocks over to the edge of town, down by the marina where the winter carnival had set up.
Each year, Moonshadow Bay held a seasonal festival, but the Winter Carnival was always my favorite. While we didn’t always have snow, the decorations alone gave an icy look to the town. Vendors came in from all the small towns and farms nearby. A temporary skating rink had been set up in the center of the marina, and there were various games.
There were also sleigh rides, thanks to Withers’s Sleigh Rides, though the sleighs could actually be outfitted with wheels like carriages for years when there wasn’t enough snow for the runners to work. The sleighs themselves were beautiful, with red velvet seats and gold trim. Ribbons bedecked the sides, and each sleigh was drawn by two beautiful onyx-black Friesians, their manes silky and flowing.
“Look,” I said, pointing. “Withers brought his sleighs out. I always loved these rides when I was young, and I loved the horses even more.”
Killian glanced at me, then strode over to the booth. He talked to them for a moment, then nodded, exchanging a couple bills for a ticket. He returned. “We’re set. At 12:30 we take a twenty-minute carriage ride around town.”
It suddenly occurred to me that he was trying to make certain I enjoyed myself. It had been so long since a man put my feelings first that it felt alien. But that didn’t stop me from grabbing him and giving him a hug.
“Thank you! I can hardly wait!”
“Well, while we wait for our turn, let’s check out the vendors.”
We circled the carnival, looking at all the booths. There was everything from handblown ornaments to homemade candy and cookies to hand-knit sweaters and hats, but I didn’t need much of anything. I did buy a very large peppermint stick and some fudge, but otherwise, it was just fun to walk hand-in-hand with Killian.
We were near the edge of the marina. I glanced out at the bay. The water looked icy and beautiful with the snow falling on it, and suddenly my life in Seattle seemed like a thousand miles and a thousand years away. We stopped by a steel drum band. They also had a xylophone player, and Killian and I started to dance with a few of the others who had gathered to listen.
Just then, a noise caught my attention. A tiny mew, coming from near the xylophone.
I stopped dancing and walked over toward the musician. It was then that I saw a small box near his feet. I peeked in and—huddled in a swath of blankets—were two kittens, a black one and a little tortoiseshell. They couldn’t have been more than eight weeks old, and they had that perpetual look all kittens did that combined wide-eyed wonder with winsome cuteness.
As I knelt by the box, the man laid down his mallets and leaned forward.
“You looking for a pet?” he asked.
I glanced over at him. “They should be inside. How old are they?”
He shrugged. “Six weeks at the oldest, I’d guess. I found them in my backyard. I let my daughter keep one but we can’t have more than one pet in the apartment, so I thought I’d bring them down here today. You interested?”