Marion Ekholm - Forget Me Not

“All right, already.” She stepped onto the ground. “When did you get so bossy?”

Trish’s cheeks were bright pink in the cold. Why didn’t he kiss her while he had the chance? Every part of his being wanted to. But...the moment passed and sanity returned. They weren’t kids anymore. She was spoken for, committed to someone else. So was he. There would never be any Trish and Craig together.

CHAPTER FOUR

AN HOUR LATER Trish came out of her house to discover Craig on the roof again, this time with a crew of two men she didn’t recognize. He came down the ladder and walked over to her. “There are one or two more places that need repair, but I checked with Max. Moody’s Lumber replaced the roof about ten years ago. You should get at least ten more, providing you’re not hit by another wicked storm. We’ll do that one side so you won’t be able to see any difference with the older shingles.”

“Thank you,” Trish said. “Anyone with fewer scruples could have insisted I needed the whole roof replaced. Can I get you anything? Lunches for you and your men?”

“That’s a nice thought, but we’ve already made plans with some other guys from the lumber company. We meet at Drexel’s Deli whenever we’re working. You’re welcome to join us.”

A voice from on high said, “Yeah, join us. We could really use someone with a little more class.”

Craig glanced up before turning back to her with a chuckle. “Ignore Ray. He’s the only low-class jerk in the group.”

“I heard that,” the man shouted, “and he’s right!”

“Thanks for the invite, but I bought some groceries yesterday. Another time,” she said to the men on the roof. Smiling, she turned to Craig. “If I’m not needed here, I’ll head into town.”

Craig started for his van, which was blocking her Toyota. “I’ll get this out of your way.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m going to walk. I’d like to check out several places, and I don’t need my car.”

“Okay. We should have all the roof repairs completed this afternoon, and I’ll finish the prospectus tomorrow morning for the other projects we discussed.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Trish started down the street at a brisk walk, listening to the rat-tat-tat of hammers ringing their song throughout the neighborhood. Once she and Craig went over the repairs, she could prioritize, budget her money and get the most for her dollar. In the meantime, Trish planned to check out Henry’s Antiques and show him the pictures she’d taken.

The temperature had become a little nippy, and she double-wrapped her green scarf around her neck. The sound of leaves crunching under her sneakers gave her the true feeling of fall. Some chestnuts had fallen, and she picked them up along with a perfect red maple leaf that had escaped the street sweepers. She twirled the stem and stopped in front of the house once owned by Craig’s family.

Several people were outside raking the leaves. They turned to wave to her. “Hello,” she called out. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Before you know it we’ll have snow.”

How sad for Craig to lose his father and then his home. Yet the joy that lit Craig’s features when he mentioned Noah warmed her heart. What would it be like to have a sibling that young? Craig and Trish had often regretted being the only children in their families. Now Craig had one up on her. The thought brought a smile, and she continued to Henry’s.

Center Street, in the older part of town, had turned into a mixture of commercial and residential buildings with several businesses in some of the older homes. One magnificent brick estate, built more than a hundred years ago, posted a doctor’s sign in front. Across the street, Gram’s lawyer had taken residence. Trish had spent the day there when all her grandmother’s possessions were transferred.

The fire department sat on a corner with Moody’s Lumber Company farther down the block. A portion of the grammar school Trish and Craig had walked to could be glimpsed behind the pharmacy, where one could still sit at the counter and order a sundae.

She stopped in front of Henry’s Antiques. At one time a five-and-dime, the shop had remained unoccupied until Henry moved in and removed the sign. Thanks to the dark green trimming, the dusky red building had a Christmas look. Trish glanced at some of the items displayed in the crowded windows before stepping into the store. An armoire in pale blue with a floral design painted on the large doors looked elegant and expensive. Very similar to her grandmother’s. Would Henry want her grandmother’s things in this shop? Determined to find out, Trish headed for the counter.

“Hello,” a man called. Although out of sight, he continued to talk. “Look around. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Trish waited by a tall golden dresser, something with a Chinese influence and definitely pricey. The other items arranged around the room had a classiness beyond her grandmother’s dusty collection. She turned when a thin man with gray hair and a matching goatee approached. “How may I help you?” Definitely a different voice from the one that had invited her in.

“Henry?”

“One of them. I’m Stanley Henry.” He turned and motioned to the younger man with similar features coming from the back. “This is my nephew Dave. And you are...?”

“Trish Lowery.” She expected some recognition of her last name. After all, her family had lived in the town for nearly one hundred years. Nothing.

“Were you looking for something specific?” Stanley asked.

“No. I’m interested in selling some of my grandmother’s antiques. I have pictures, if you’d like to see them.”

Dave Henry, who had a pleasant smile and blond hair, came over. “Lowery, you say. As in Helen Lowery?”

Stanley looked at his nephew with a quizzical expression. “Of course, Helen Lowery, from one of the founding families, the lady who recently died?” He turned back to Trish and approached, his hand extended. “Our condolences. And you have something to show us?”

With his demeanor becoming more gracious, Stanley gripped her hand. Trish suddenly felt like a field mouse trapped by a marauding hawk. She pulled free. “Um, I have a question. Do you purchase antiques outright to sell in your store?”

Stanley sighed. “Unfortunately, we can’t. Not enough space.” He smiled, helping to displace the hawk image. “Most of the items here,” he said, waving his hand around the shop, “are on consignment. I run another store in Manhattan, and we also advertise on the internet. I’m sure we can give your grandmother’s items a proper showplace and get you the best possible price.”

Trish held out her cell phone, displaying the picture of her grandmother’s bedroom furniture. Stanley took her phone as Dave came over to join his uncle. “We really need to see your treasures in person. May we make an appointment?”

Trish pulled her phone back. “Of course.”

“Okay if I handle this?” Dave asked. He nodded toward his uncle before turning back to Trish. “When are you available?”

Trish appreciated Dave taking over the conversation. “Anytime today. The sooner the better. I have a limited time here, and I need this resolved before I leave.”

“Would this afternoon be appropriate? At two? I know the address.” He turned to his uncle. “If you wouldn’t mind watching the store for me?”

With a nod, Trish thanked them and headed for the door, followed closely by Dave. After opening the door for her, he said, “I’m sure your grandmother has lovely items, and we’ll be able to work out some satisfactory plans for them.” He offered his hand. “Very nice meeting you, Ms. Lowery.”

Just as she exited, a noisy blast echoed through the town—one, two, three times—and Trish stumbled. Dave grabbed her arm and steadied her.