“Well, now, I guess she was thinking that she wanted to be there on the most important day of her son’s life.” Hal spoke up. “Even if she hadn’t been there for some others.”
When Beck didn’t respond, Hal added, “And I expect she’ll be coming back once she concludes her business in North Dakota.”
“Why would she do that?” Beck asked, his eyes narrowing.
“I suppose because I asked her to.”
The room fell silent for a moment. Then Beck said, “Hal, why would you do that? After all she did… let’s face it, Maggie’s never done anything but hurt you. She’s hurt all of us, everyone who ever loved her.”
“I suspect that people can change if you give them the chance. I’m okay with giving her another chance. Besides, like Vanessa just said, sometimes you have to let go if you want to move on.”
Beck shook his head. “She’s going to hurt you again. She can’t be trusted.”
“Well, I guess we’ll have to wait and see how it all shakes out.” Hal took a sip of his coffee. “Anyone need a refill?”
He looked around the table. When no one spoke up, he turned back to Beck. “I know that this is hard for you, and I’m real sorry for that. But I’m going to ask you to give her a chance. And if you can’t do that, at least keep an open mind.”
Beck was clearly struggling with his feelings.
“Just keep an open mind,” Hal repeated.
Finally, Beck nodded slowly. “Only because you’re asking me to.”
“That’s a start, son.” Hal smiled. “That’s a start…”
Chapter 21
SO you don’t think it’s too early for the tennis whites and the cute golf clothes?” Vanessa asked Grace Sinclair over coffee at Cuppachino the following morning.
“Not at all, dear,” Grace assured her. “My son tells me that the tennis courts at the Inn have been booked solid for the past two or three weeks.”
“Great.” Vanessa smiled, envisioning the window display she was going to start on as soon as she went into the shop. “Some of the prettiest things just came in to the shop. I can’t wait to get them all unpacked and on display.”
“When do you think you’ll be able to reopen, Vanessa?” Nita asked.
“I’ll be open on Friday at the regular time,” she said proudly. “The glass has all been replaced and everything cleaned up. It’s all as good as new.” She paused. “Except for the clothes that had been tossed on the floor. I feel as if they’re tainted and I’m having a problem thinking of those things as new merchandise. I was tempted to scrap them but my insurance company would not reimburse me because they really aren’t damaged, so I’m having a sale. Everything that touched the floor will be forty percent off when I reopen. I’m calling it my red-carpet sale.” She grinned. “Because, of course, the rug in the shop is red.”
“Very clever,” Nita told her. “And you can count on me to come in. You know I can’t miss a sale.”
Vanessa drained the coffee from her mug. “I can’t wait to get started on those windows. I’ll see you ladies later.”
She handed her mug to Carlo on her way out the door and crossed the street. Standing in front of her shop, she mentally dressed her mannequins, which, right at that moment, wore white sheets and signs that said WATCH FOR OUR GRAND REOPENING!
And it will be grand, she told herself as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. The boxes of white shirts, skirts, and shorts that had been delivered the day before were piled on the newly replaced counter.
“Maybe an all-white window this time,” she murmured. “Maybe some white geraniums in white… no, maybe silver pots. And something white all bunched on the floor. Not chiffon, I did that for the wedding.” She stood and stared at the mannequins. “Maybe I should do Astroturf to look like a golf green…” She frowned. “But then the window’s not all white.” She paused. “Does it have to be all white?”
She sighed, and tried to feel happier at the prospect of reopening Bling. She’d missed her routine, missed the interaction with her customers.
She’d been missing a lot these days, she reminded herself.
She wasn’t going to think about Grady today. She’d decided when she got up on Monday morning that she was not going to dwell on what could have been. And she wasn’t going to feel sorry for herself. It had been all right to feel sad-she’d give herself sad-but not sorry. And if nothing else, for the first time, she’d had a glimpse of what a good relationship-a healthy relationship-between two people who cared about each other could be like. How could she regret that?
That was the one thing he’d given her that no one could take away. She’d never had a relationship that hadn’t required her to give more than she had and take far less than what she’d wanted. With Grady, it had all been equal, give-and-take. Him to her and back again. If she were ever to have another relationship-and she wasn’t sure that she wanted one-at least she knew what she could rightfully expect.
The delivery truck pulled up in front of the shop and the driver got out, disappeared inside the body of the truck, then walked to the door with boxes piled high.
“Good morning,” she called to him after she unlocked the door and held it wide open for him.
“How are you today?” He went past her into the shop. “Where would you like these?”
“How about right there, by the counter. Yes, that’s fine, thanks.”
“Looks like another beautiful day.” He smiled and went back outside. “I have two more for you.”
He brought those in and set them on the floor next to the others. “That’s it for today. Good luck with your reopening if I don’t see you before the end of the week.”
“Thanks. I’m looking forward to it.” She waved from the counter, then lifted the first of the boxes and placed it on the glass to open it. “Such cute tank tops,” she murmured. “I think I’ll pair them with those button-down shirts that came in last week.”
She set about looking for the box with the shirts, grateful to be busy, happy to be back in her routine. These days, it seemed that Bling was all she had. Funny, she reminded herself, once upon a time-oh, not so very long ago-the shop was all she wanted, all that mattered to her.
At first, she didn’t hear the knock on the glass panel of the door. When the knock came louder, she responded, thinking it was Mitch, the mailman, who’d gotten into the habit of bringing in her mail rather than stuffing it through the slot, on instructions, no doubt, from his wife, the town busybody.
“Come on in, Mitch,” she called from the counter where she was going through boxes. Where did I put those cotton shirts…?
The bell over the door jingled, and she heard it close softly.
“Sorry, Mitch. I was distracted.” She turned from the window and started toward the door.
“Mitch? Who’s Mitch?”
“Oh.” She stopped in her tracks. “Oh.”
“Mind if I come in?” Grady didn’t wait for her response. “Who’s Mitch?” he repeated.
“The mailman.”
“Hey, it looks great in here. All cleaned up, the displays all nice and tidy again.” He walked over to the repaired window. “It looks great. The glass guy did a good job.”
“Thanks.” She forced her hands to hold on to each other so that she wouldn’t reach out for him. She wasn’t sure why he was there, and didn’t want to make a fool out of herself.
“When do you think you’ll be able to reopen?” He strolled around to the counter.
“I’ll be open on Friday.”
“It looks like you could open tomorrow.”
“If I had the window dressing finished, I probably could. I’ve gotten in most of the merchandise I ordered for the summer, so I’m pretty much ready to go.”
“Good for you, Ness. I’m really happy for you. I know how much this place means to you.”
“Thank you.” Her head was spinning. “Ah… did I ever thank you for saving my life?”