Page 96 of At The Coffee Shop of Curiosities
Sam’s gaze swept over me and twin worry lines creased the skin between his eyebrows. “How about I get you some water?”
I wasn’t sure what he’d seen that prompted the offer, but I could imagine. My shirt stuck to my back. My skin felt like it was on fire, and I was in theshade. I held up my refillable, insulated bottle. “It’s still half full from the last time you filled it up.”
He tipped his head. “Something to eat, then?”
“I’m okay. I’m just tired and stressed about Hannah’s surgery since I haven’t heard from Jolly yet.” I took a sip of water. “Have you seen Maggie today by any chance?”
“No. I skipped the coffee shop this morning to help Dez. Why?”
“I’m worried about her, too. She’s been so anxious lately.”
The couple who’d been bartering with Dez came over to my table to pay for the steamer trunk. When they asked for Sam’s assistance in getting the trunk into their car, parked at the end of the street, he sprang into action without hesitation.
I knew he was worried about me. Dez, too. And Maggie. I hated that they worried—I had come here for normalcy, not to focus on any kind of disorder or illness, but here I was again, my health at the forefront of my life. It was probably time to come to terms with the fact that I’d never be normal.
And maybe that was okay. After all, I’d heard normal was tedious and dreary.
I was simply Ava. I had an extraordinary sense of hearing and smell and lived with a seizure disorder. I loved animals, the beach, moonlight, and the scent of strawberries. I loved tosew, read, and watch old movies. I loved this little town and the people in it.
My gaze drifted to Sam.
Some more than others.
I took another sip of water, suddenly feeling a little better. The day, health-wise, had started off so well. I’d been full of energy when I woke up early to help Dez set up. Then I’d walked around the neighborhood some, looking at everyone else’s sales. I’d even bought a few things. Some fabric and notions, sea glass and buttons, a jewelry-making kit and a box of charms. And, of course, I bought one of Sienna’s Mississippi mud brownies—which looked like heaven all wrapped up in a crinkly cellophane bag—even though she tried to give it to me. I hadn’t eaten the brownie yet, though, unable to scare up any kind of appetite.
Then I’d grown tired, my limbs heavy, and Dez assigned me check-out duties.
So, here I sat in a folding chair in the carport, watching the clock. As soon as the church bell chimed two o’clock, I was going to help Dez clean up, then go inside to take a shower and a long nap.
Tomorrow, Dez would be here on his own, because I would be working at the coffee shop. But I honestly didn’t think he needed any help.
Not with the yard sale.
Not with life.
Why had he hired me?
Yes, his house was a mess, but a cleaning service could’ve sorted that out once his collection of whims had been relocated. I’d made him only three meals since I’d been living with him. He wasn’t a big breakfast eater, and he was often out for lunch and dinner.
I’d seen no sign of mental impairment, either, other than a few memory blips and the ghost thing, which who was to say he just wasn’t talking aloud to a loved one who’d passed on? I’d done that myself with Bunny—and with Penny only a few days ago. I didn’t really see anythingwrongwith it, other thanDez’swe’ll be together again sooncomment. That part was worrisome. Quite worrisome.
My gaze went back to Dez, to his big smile. His voice carried easily, rising above the sound of the waves in the background, as he talked to a woman about a cactus statue. He’d found it at a flea market in Texas and had to rent a U-Haul to drive it home because he couldn’t leave without it.
Yet, he was selling it.
Selling most everything.
Suddenly this yard sale felt like an estate sale.
And selling Magpie’s felt like he was getting his estate in order.
My stomach churned at the thoughts. Normanquabarked as if sensing my discomfort and I reached down and patted his head.
The next half hour passed in a blur. Apparently the two o’clock end time for the sale had been merely a suggestion. Dez turned no latecomer away. We were collecting all the unsold items and corralling them in the carport when my cell phone rang. It was an Alabama number and I quickly answered. “Hello?”
“Ava, it’s Jolly, honey.”
A pit opened in my stomach, and I found myself perched on the edge of it, trying to keep my balance. “Jolly, oh, it’s good to hear from you.”
