by Jewel E. Ann
“How did I put you out of business?”
“By coming to Epperly.” I shrugged, keeping my distance and my back to him while pretending to be interested in all the unique items on his displays.
“Does Epperly not support a free market? You have more than one bank and grocery store.”
Two.
We had two banks and two grocery stores. A third bank or a third grocery store would not have survived. Well, the new one might have, but one of the other ones would have had to close its doors. Banks and grocery stores were essential businesses. Specialty food stores were not. One was enough, and outside of the holiday season, one specialty food store was too much.
“I didn’t say you did anything wrong. It’s a free market. You had every right to start up a business here. But it doesn’t change the facts.”
“Which are?”
I stopped at the end of an aisle and turned toward him, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m closing the doors to Smith’s for good at the end of the year.”
“Because of me?”
I nodded.
“Elsie …”
“Don’t apologize. Don’t give me the business is business speech. I don’t want to hear it. I’m not even mad.”
I was a little mad. At whom? I wasn’t sure.
Myself?
Craig?
Kael?
Customers?
I felt numb. Maybe it was the anniversary of Craig’s death approaching. In so many ways, I felt just as lost and trapped as I did a year earlier. Another tiny rock in my shoe that I couldn’t ignore any longer. It made me angry, irritated, and a little reckless.
“I don’t know what to say.”
I shook my head. “There’s nothing to say. You should be proud. Victorious. You’ll do well. Everyone loves you and your store the way they loved my husband and his family’s store for so many years. And if you stick around long enough, some young asshole with a fresh idea will move into town and force you to close your doors. Think of it as the circle of life in the business world.”
“Young asshole. Is that what I am to you?”
“To Mrs. Smith, shop owner. Yes. You are. To me, Elsie … you’re my sex toy.” That felt victorious.
That look on his face. After years of watching men put women in their place—in Epperly that meant barefoot, pregnant, and rubbing a pot roast—it felt slightly gratifying to be the one doing the objectifying.
I expected the same grin as the first time he heard me call him a sex toy. No such luck.
“Well …” He glanced toward the kitchen, but not as if anything in that direction had his focus—more like he just didn’t want to look at me. “I’m truly sorry for Mrs. Smith. My intention was never to run anyone out of business. As for Elsie, I’m happy I can scratch her itch and entertain her needs.” He sounded anything but happy.
That victorious gratification began to burn out like a fire without oxygen. “It’s what you wanted too. Right?”
He grunted a laugh and faked the worst smile ever as he nodded slowly, bringing his attention back to me. “For you to scratch an itch?”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
Four kids and twenty-two years of marriage made me a good reader of people. Except Kael. I couldn’t read him. Or maybe I could, but I was too afraid to see something that either wasn’t really there … or worse … that was there.
“Sure.”
Terrible answer. I hated sure. It meant anything but sure. The only word more aggravating than “sure” was “whatever.” Two of the most dismissive words in the English language. I was at a loss for words, but I refused to fill the space or say something as awful as “sure” or “whatever” just to appease the person in front of me.
“Don’t say that.”
His lower teeth scraped his upper lip a few times. “Say what?”
“Sure. Don’t say ‘sure' and don’t say ‘whatever.’ Say nothing or say everything. I can’t handle vagueness. I can’t handle you communicating … or lack thereof … like my husband. Don’t fill space with but-uh. Don’t say ‘you know’ because you’re too lazy or impatient to finish your thoughts. I don’t know.”
He glanced at his watch. “I’m going to go with saying nothing then because I don’t have time to say everything. And if I’m being honest, I don’t know what everything is right now. So if you don’t like vague, then it has to be nothing. And I hope I’ve completed my sentences well enough so you do know what I mean.”
“You can’t be mad because I’m going out of business. I’m sorry. That’s just not allowed. So if I’ve offended some delicate part of your ego because I’ve managed to separate what you’ve done to me professionally from what you’ve done to me personally, then maybe you need to start practicing what you preach a little better.”
“What I preach?” Kael rested his hands on his hips and leaned forward a few inches. “What does that mean?”
“It means … you can’t give me that look like you’re not okay with being someone’s sex toy when you don’t want anything more from a relationship than sex.”
“I never said that.”
“You did!” My voice boomed, eliciting a quick glance from his employee in the kitchen.
“No. I didn’t.”
“You don’t believe in monogamy.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I never said that.”
“You totally said that.”
“I said I wasn’t sure if humans are meant to mate for life.”
“Same thing.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Not the same thing. I never said humans can’t be monogamous or that some don’t have a natural desire to be monogamous. But monogamy doesn’t mean mating for life. It simply means one partner at a time—for however long. And maybe that’s eternity, but that should be a choice not a contract.”
My lips parted in preparation of saying something, but that something never came.
“I have to open my store.”
When I didn’t move, not one blink, he reached forward and hooked my index finger with his. It made that malfunctioning organ behind my ribs ache. “I don’t expect anything, and I don’t think you do either. But I also don’t want to be with anyone else right now. So call it monogamy or just good old infatuation with one person, but that’s where I’m at right now.”
I stared at our hooked fingers. “For how long? How long will you only want to be with me?”
“How should I know?”
Because my heart likes to know these things before making an investment.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Expectations are a prelude to failure.” He released my finger.
My gaze lifted to meet his. “What are we without expectations? Lost?”
“Free.”
“How would you feel if you found out I was having a …” I cleared my throat as Bella glanced up from her plate on our first night alone again since the boys left after Thanksgiving.
“A what?” She paused her fork near her lips.
I hadn’t touched my food. Kael was the only person who knew I was planning on closing the store after Christmas. Why I chose to tell him first … I had no idea.
“What if I said I’ve been intimate with someone for the past month? How would you feel?”
She squinted at me, mouth agape. “Skeptical. Uh … I’d ask who? There’s like … one maybe two eligible men in this town who are worth looking at.”
“Who?”
Bella shook her head slowly and shrugged. “Mike Holmes and Brian Hosier.”
Pathetic. Epperly was so dang small. It didn’t take her more than two seconds to name two of the three eligible bachelors in Epperly.
“Is this hypothetical? Or did you have sex with our banker or Dad’s attorney? Or are you thinking of dating one of them? What’s going on?”
“I’m not having sex with or dating Mike or Brian. My question was how would you feel? Regardless of who it hypothetically is or would be.”
H
er gaze dropped to her plate as she used her fork to pick at her eggs. “I mean … it would feel a little weird. It’s always been Dad. But I’m not naive. I know you’re too young to never think about getting married again.”
“Whoa. No. I’m not talking marriage, Bella.”
Her head shot up. “You’re not?”
I laced my fingers behind my neck and looked up at the ceiling on a long inhale. “What if I wanted …”
“Sex?” Bella laughed as if it were a ridiculous thought.
Releasing my neck, I leveled my head, eyeing her without blinking. “Would that be so crazy?”
Her head jerked back a fraction, eyebrows knitted while her eyes shifted side to side for a few seconds. “Kinda. I mean. You just want to live with someone? You don’t want to get remarried?”
I raised her so well in the eyes of the church—except for a few minor slips like losing her virginity before marriage and underage drinking. Even if she didn’t follow the rules, she knew them. She knew them well enough to hold me accountable to them.
“I don’t want to live with anyone at the moment except you.” I blew out a long breath. Beating around the bush was getting me nowhere. “What if I had sex with someone just because I wanted to have sex?”
Lord help me. I never imagined those words coming out of my mouth directed at my eighteen-year-old daughter as if I needed permission to have sex. She sure didn’t ask me for permission before she had it.
“Then I’d say you’re going to Hell.” Bella smirked.
It nearly brought me to tears because I felt this shift between us. Yes, she was and would always be my little girl. But in that moment, she became my friend, a young woman who I could confide in to at least a small degree.
“I hope not because that would mean you’re going too.”
“So …” She rolled her lips between her teeth. “Are you having sex with someone?” The transparency of her expression sent waves of guilt through me. She wanted the answer to be no.
“You look pained, Bella. Is it because the idea of me having sex makes you cringe? Or is it the idea of me having sex with someone who’s not your dad?”
“Both. Brian is Jaime’s uncle. And Mike helps coach the football team. So when people find out, it’s just going to be a little weird because we go to church and you’re not married. I know it’s not like you’re having an affair—” Her eyes widened. “Oh my gosh! Please tell me it’s Brian or Mike. Please don’t tell me you’re having sex with a married man.”
I flinched. “No! Of course not.”
She blew out a long sigh. “Okay. Just promise me that if you go public with this, you give me a heads-up so I can figure out what to tell my friends. And can you just tell me now, is it Brian or Mike?”
It’s Kael. And he makes me feel twenty again. And he’s also the Devil for running Smith’s out of business.
I didn’t tell the kids I was closing up shop after the holidays. Dealing with the anniversary of Craig’s death while trying to muster holiday cheer seemed like enough to think about without the doom and gloom of the family business closing.
“It’s not—”
Bella held up her finger as she brought her phone to her ear. “Hey, Erin … yeah. I’m planning on it. Cool. Seriously? That’s totally sweet. Meet you there around six.” She ended the call.
“Holiday Fest?”
Bella nodded. “What Did You Expect? is doing face paintings for ten dollars, and all the money goes to Toys for Tots. That’s so cool, huh?”
I nodded. “Very cool.”
“I might do it. Kael’s one of the people doing the painting. It’s for a good cause, and I can think of worse things than having him look into my eyes while being just inches from my face.” She waggled her eyebrows. It was so not her. It was her dad. Craig waggled his eyebrows all the time.
“Please don’t forget you’re a senior in high school.”
“So.” She put her plate in the dishwasher. “I won’t be much longer. And let’s be honest. Guys my age are stupid and immature.”
“Maybe.” I stood behind her waiting to put my plate and coffee mug in the dishwasher too. “But thirty isn’t just a little older.”
Such a hypocrite. We were the same difference in age from Kael’s thirty.
“Besides, I thought you said he’s interested in Amber.”
She turned, shuffling a few steps to the side to fill a glass with water. “She said they’ve messed around, but it’s not serious.”
My breakfast knocked at the door to my throat, begging to be expelled from my stomach as it roiled thinking about Amber and Kael “messing around.” Whatever that meant.
The tiny upside, and it was minuscule compared to Amber and Kael, was Bella forgetting that she wanted to know who I was having, or thinking of having, sex with. But I felt certain it would only be temporary.
Chapter Twenty
He made me feel stupid. He dismissed me. I gave him too much of myself, including my dignity.
* * *
Epperly’s biggest annual event was Holiday Fest. Everyone gathered in the square to shop, eat, listen to live music, ice skate in the rink they constructed just for December every year, and if there was snow on the ground, there was a snowman contest judged by the local business owners. Possibly my most important decision that year.
Kidding.
We saw a slight uptick in customers simply because everyone in Epperly gathered in the square. I even sold some of our subpar-will-give-you-cancer-and-hypertension shit that was a staple at Smith’s.
“You seem oddly happy.” Amie filled her cup with the free hot chocolate I had for the customers and sprinkled a spoonful of mini marshmallows onto it.
I remained perched on the stool behind the counter, gazing out the window at the packed town square—a snow globe.
No wind.
Light snow.
Temperature hovering around thirty.
“It’s a great night.” I shrugged.
She glanced around the shop and chuckled before whispering, “No one is buying much.”
I shrugged again. “Don’t care.”
“If you’re trying to stay in business, you should care. You cared enough a week ago to let me get really sick and blame it on your competition.” Her voice remained at a whisper.
“I’m closing the store on the thirty-first,” I confessed in a monotone voice that wasn’t loud enough for anyone else to hear, but definitely above a whisper. When I shifted my attention to Amie, she gave me a sad smile. She wasn’t shocked. We’d talked about it too much.
“I’m proud of you.”
I grunted. “Thanks. I’m not sure it’s a decision that deserves that kind of recognition. Craig’s parents won’t be proud of me.”
“So what happens after that?”
“Nothing. I go back to my lonely housewife—house-widow—life until Bella graduates and goes off to college. Then I …”
“Don’t.”
I shifted my gaze to her again. “Don’t what?”
Amie grinned. “Don’t fill in that blank yet. Just let it happen when the time comes. I realize everyone will be asking you what’s next, the way we’re trained to ask seniors in high school what their plans are after they graduate. You don’t have to have a five-year plan. You don’t have to have a five-week plan. Just go with the flow. Do it for those of us who didn’t lose a husband with good life insurance and smart investments. Do it for those of us who follow tiny home Instagram accounts and dream of escaping all men in favor of living in a community of women.”
A smile crept up my face. Tiny homes. I couldn’t see my claustrophobic friend living in a tiny home. “Good investments and life insurance. Lucky me. I bet if he could have a voice from his grave, he’d ask to revise his will to cut me out of it. And rightfully so.”
“No.” Amie shook her head. “Not rightfully so. You supported his business, raised his four children, and helped take care of his parents. That shit’s worth something.”
I gave a tight smile to a customer who drifted closer to the checkout just in time to hear “that shit’s worth something.”
Amie’s gaze followed mine, and she offered a smile too.
“Listening to a man brag about unloading the dishwasher or the incessant need to announce every single thing he did in a day. That stuff is worth something. Give him a bone! Men are dogs ... they just are. They need constant praise and rewards. Women are pack mules—we work without praise for long days, recover quickly, and wake up the next day plodding right along again. No treats. No pats on the head. No belly rubs.”
I loved my best friend. Retiring to a tiny home community of women with her would have been an honor.
Bella and her friends burst through the front door with their faces painted. Bella looked like an elf with an adorable pink nose. Two of her friends were painted in reindeer faces, and the third friend was the Grinch.
“Wow! How cute!” Amie gushed.
“Right?” Bella grinned. “Kael is so talented. And it only took him ten minutes to do it. I paid twenty dollars instead of ten since it’s for a good cause. And he smelled like mint and pine. I think I was drooling.”
“Oh my god! I know!” Her friends all chimed in with their dreamy gaga gazes.
“You should get your face painted.” Amie nodded toward the door. “Maybe get a pat on the head or let someone rub your belly …” she mumbled with a smirk on her face.
“Can’t. I have a shop to run.”
“Mom! Go. We’ll watch things. Do frosty. It will blend well with your gray hair.”
My jaw dropped. I did not have gray hair. That anyone could see. I colored it.
“Ouch.” Amie laughed.
I continued to shake my head as Bella tried to nudge me off my stool. “You girls go have fun. This old gray lady will stay here.”
“I was kidding. Just go. All the other store owners are getting their faces painted too. Kael has a few of his employees painting as well, but they aren’t as good. So make sure you get in his line.” Bella gave me a final nudge while Amie eyed me with a shit-eating grin on her face.
There was no way I was getting in his line. I grabbed my coat and purse and dragged my reluctant ass out the door. All the shops would be closing in another hour so the snowman competition could be judged while the band played until midnight for the slew of ice skaters.