“It’s gorgeous. I wonder how long it took to make something like that.” He ambled toward the square table in question, tracing his lean finger over the hand-carved rim.
Nice to see he admired quality workmanship. “It’s over a hundred and fifty years old. Just imagine what sorts of conversations were held at this table over the decades while families or young couples played games on it by candlelight.”
He looked at her as if he’d come to a realization. “It’s not just about the age and value of a thing for you, is it? It’s the story.”
“The story, the legacy, yes. Whether it’s the heritage of an object, or a town, they’re both important.”
Tom’s face grew serious. “About that. The kids and I visited the bookstore this morning. We met the manager. Kellan?”
“Sure. Did the kids join the book club? Buy ten children’s books, get one free?”
“Yeah.” Tom scratched his stubbly chin. “Kellan was telling me he’s an avid mountain biker.”
She’d seen him biking, but that wasn’t uncommon around here. “This is a good place for him to live, then.”
“And Gwen at Apple a Day? She gets her kayak gear online, and said she’d be glad for the ability to browse a sporting goods store on her lunch breaks. Claudia at Angel Food says her husband fishes a lot and the folks at Del’s Café think if there’s a new store on the block, more tourists will visit for lunch. Same with the restaurant, Emerald’s—”
“Wait a second.” Her hand rose to stop him. “You’ve been talking to the other Main Street shopkeepers about your store to, what, get them on your side?”
“I was gauging the desire of local folks for a store like mine, but their enthusiasm confirmed my suspicions. My store will do well anywhere in town, but next door, it will flourish.”
These other shopkeepers weren’t just her fellow business folk on Main Street. She’d counted them—Kellan, Gwen, Claudia, George and Sandy, all of them—as friends, but they preferred his idea over hers? Twin sensations of rejection and betrayal twisted hot and liquid in her core. “I can’t believe it.”
“That they’re interested in my store?”
“No, that you talked to them like that.” She stomped to the farthest corner of the store, adjusting bowls that didn’t need adjusting.
Tom hurried after her. “It’s not unethical, Faith. I wasn’t asking for their support, just their opinions.”
“Which I’m sure you’ll mention in your city council proposal.”
“You’d do the same.”
He had a point, but until this moment, she hadn’t realized the other shopkeepers—at least the ones Tom had mentioned—preferred his plan for the vacant building. Even though it was business, it felt personal.
Swallowing down the unpleasant emotions in her throat, she lifted her head. “I’m not giving up, Tom.”
“No one wants you to give up a museum, but I had a fantastic idea when the kids and I walked to the park the other day—Logan was hoping to climb the big boulder and roll his cars off it, but of course that was a big no. Anyway, we passed the old schoolhouse, and it’s just sitting there, vacant, turning into an eyesore. Why don’t you put your museum there?”
Her stomach soured like she’d chugged buttermilk. “Are you serious?”
“It’s small, but it doesn’t sound like you need a lot of room, based on what I’ve seen.” He gestured at her lone cabinet of photos and artifacts. “A paint job and new windows, and that place will be good as new. It’s centrally located—”
“And in terrible shape. It’s the third schoolhouse they built here, not original, so the town hasn’t done anything to preserve it, not like they have the little church. No insulation, no electricity for a security system, much less lights. And it is indeed small. Too small. I couldn’t display half of what I have in there.”
He snapped his fingers, clearly undeterred. “So you rotate stock. Since it’s not original to the town, we can give it a total refurbishment, maybe even add on to the footprint. I worked in marketing so I can help you make a great-looking presentation for city council.”
Great. He had experience making professional pitches. Now she knew when it came to their city council presentations, her simple PowerPoint would be a lot less flashy than whatever he did to showcase his idea. Antique David up against tech-savvy Goliath.
No matter what happened, though, she had no intention of occupying the one-room schoolhouse. “I’d love to fix it up, but it won’t matter what we do because I’m not putting a museum in there. Like I mentioned to you on Day One, I need to be able to run the store and the museum at the same time. I can’t do that if the museum is at the end of the block.”
“Unless you hire help.”
“I’m not in a position to do that right now.” Not that it was any of his business, but having another employee beyond Angie on the payroll, even for a few hours a day, was out of her budget. Besides, who would she hire who knew the artifacts and stories of the town as well as she did?
His enthusiasm morphed into something akin to concern. “Is it money? Because I’d be happy to make a donation for refurbishments. How much do you think you need?”
First, he’d talked to half the shopkeepers on the street about their situation, and now he was offering money? He might not be bulldozing her, but she definitely felt pushed. Maybe he thought he was fixing the problem, but he was fixing it for him, not her.
She’d kept her calm, despite a storm cloud of feelings forming in her gut. Now that he’d started offering her money, though, that cloud had developed a big ol’ thunderhead, and it was impossible to keep her mouth shut.
“If this were a movie, you’d be pulling out a checkbook and offering me cash to fade away.”
His smile fell. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but you’re offering a solution I never asked for.”
“I’m trying to help, that’s all.”
“Help me go away so you can have the old livery. But get this straight, Tom. No amount of money in a donation will make me change my mind.” She made air quotes.
“You make it sound like a bribe.” His tone tensed to match hers.
“It could be interpreted as a bribe. You pay for the renovations if I cede the store to you.”
“I was trying to offer a solution.” His hands clenched into fists. “But since we’re on the topic of money, maybe you should think about how much cash flow it takes to run two businesses. If you don’t have enough capital to pay additional employees to staff the museum, two storefronts might be more than you can handle, anyway.”
He did not just say that.
“You’re saying I can’t pay my bills. Because I mentioned this is a slower season, right? How dare you.”
“I’m not saying anything, just offering some advice for you to consider before you bite off more than you can chew.” His hands rose in the air. “I was trying to be nice.”
“Taking a building out from under me isn’t what I’d call nice.”
The hair on Faith’s arms lifted and her gaze was drawn by the invisible tether of someone looking at her. Logan and Nora had left the cat and were staring at them with wide eyes.
Nora’s little face crumpled. “You’re not being nice, Daddy?”
Uh-oh.
* * *
Tom’s stomach sank down to his soles. He never should have let the conversation get out of control like this. Not in front of his kids, not at all. But she’d accused him of throwing money at her museum when he was trying to find a solution for both of them. All he had to show for his gesture was high blood pressure and his pulse pounding in his ears.
And two little kids staring at him like he’d broken the golden rule. “Umm—”
“Of course, he’s a nice man. We’re just having a grown-up conversation.” Faith’s smil
e was obviously fake, but he was grateful for her effort. Clearly, she was as upset as he was, judging by her trembling hands. She clasped them together, probably so his kids wouldn’t see.
Logan narrowed his eyes. “Daddy has his frowny face on.”
Tom knew better than to tell his kids not to trust their own eyes, but he had to offer some sort of explanation to smooth over this mess. “It’s been a long day already, that’s all.”
“That means he’s tired or crabby.” Nora glanced up at Faith. “Before we came over here, Daddy and Grammy had a grown-up conversation with frowny faces, too.”
Great. “That’s family stuff, Nora.”
Faith’s smile looked genuine now. “Every family has frowny-faced conversations from time to time.”
Logan’s brows knit. “Yours, too?”
“Absolutely,” Faith answered before Tom could put a stop to the personal line of inquiry. “Disagreements aren’t bad. We just have to be careful we don’t say mean things. And when we do, we say we’re sorry.”
“Do they say sorry, too?” Nora fingered a table edge.
“My family doesn’t live in Widow’s Peak Creek anymore, and you know what, I haven’t seen my parents or my sister in a while. Isn’t that funny?”
Her nonanswer said it all. There was some sort of hurt between her and her family. From what Tom remembered of Faith’s sister, Chloe, she was all glitter and new toys. He couldn’t imagine her working alongside Faith in an antiques store, much less shopping in one. Had the sisters’ differences caused tension?
If so, he could relate. Things with his parents had been strained since Lourdes died, and hadn’t improved much since he’d quit his job and brought the kids back to Widow’s Peak Creek. What would it take to prove to them that Logan and Nora were his top priority now? That he wouldn’t fail them again?
Maybe his parents didn’t believe he could live up to his promise. Once he established his store next door, they’d see how committed he was to being there for his kids whenever they needed him.
He was sorry Faith would lose out on having her museum next door where it was convenient, but it couldn’t be helped. The kids were more important. She’d said she had no intention of yielding. Well, he didn’t, either.
Maybe they should get to business and get out of her hair before they fought again. He cleared his throat, praying his voice would sound friendly now. “Is this still a good time for the kids to help work off the mess from the other day?”
“Sure.” Faith avoided his gaze when she beckoned the kids to a display table. “This shouldn’t take long. I find loose change in furniture I buy, and I stick it in this jar. I wondered if you guys could separate the coins for me and put them into smaller jars. One each for pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters.”
“Yep,” Logan answered, sounding eager. The kids perched on chairs at the table as she brought over a gallon-sized jar half full of coins.
Gently, Faith poured the money out onto the tabletop. The kids’ eyes grew wide as they touched the spilled coins.
“Gonna help us, Daddy?” Nora glanced up.
If it would hurry this along so they could leave the store, sure thing. “Sure.” He pulled a few pennies toward him. “Do we need to count them, too?”
“No, just sort.” Faith dropped two pint jars on the table. “Thanks.”
Tom’s phone buzzed in his front jeans pocket. His mom’s name was on the screen. “Hey, Mom.”
“You have to come home. Right now.” Her voice trembled with panic.
“What’s wrong? Is Dad okay?” Dad had planned on playing tennis with a friend in Sacramento today, but they probably weren’t out on the court with this rain. But what if Dad had never made it to visit his friend? Tom’s stomach sank to depths he hadn’t known existed until Lourdes died. Did Dad have a car accident?
“Your dad’s fine. It’s Roscoe. He’s sick or something, and I cannot do this, Tom. I know I said he could stay here today but I have a showing in an hour and I can’t leave him here, making messes.”
Even though he was worried about his dog, relief pooled through Tom’s gut. Seemed like every time someone called him anymore and didn’t sound 100 percent calm, he automatically went to the darkest place he’d ever been, that call telling him Lourdes was gone. Thank you that Dad’s okay, Lord.
But Roscoe didn’t sound too good. “Can you describe what’s wrong with him?”
“I don’t know. He’s throwing up.”
“Sounds like he might need the vet.” Tom rubbed his suddenly aching forehead. “I’ll be right there.”
When he turned around, three pairs of concerned eyes stared at him. Even Faith’s, when two minutes ago she wouldn’t look him in the eye.
He tugged his keys from his pocket. “We’d better go, kids. Roscoe’s not feeling well. I’m sorry, Faith.”
“No, please.” She hurried to gather their coats. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sure he’ll be okay.” God willing. He scrolled through his phone. “I hope there’s a vet open on the weekend somewhere.”
“It’s on Sugar Pine Street, by the grocery store.”
He knew the strip mall, nice and close. “Thanks. And kids, you have to come to the vet with me, so while I get Roscoe, grab some books at Grandma’s in case there’s a long wait.”
Faith froze with Logan’s jacket in hand. “You know what, leave the kids here.”
“Can we, Daddy?” Nora clasped her hands in a begging posture. “I want to sort coins.”
“Me, too.” Logan slipped away from Faith, who’d been holding out his jacket.
“Are you sure?” He looked at Faith, trying to gauge her emotions. She hated his guts right now, didn’t she? Accusing him of bribery—thinking about it made him mad all over again, but he had more pressing things to deal with.
She waved him off. “Just take care of Roscoe. We’ll count coins and have a snack, if that’s okay with you.”
He hadn’t left his kids with anyone except his parents in a long while. He barely knew Faith. But no matter how she felt about him, she was a decent person. His kids clearly preferred staying here to sitting in the vet lobby. “It’s fine, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
Gone were the anger and hurt he’d seen in her green eyes earlier. She might have a problem with him, but clearly, she could set it aside to care about his kids and his dog. At the realization, his anger dissolved a fraction.
Nora hugged his leg as he donned his jacket. “Tell Roscoe I love him and give him a kiss on his mouth.”
“Maybe not the kiss part. He was sick.”
“Ew.” Logan wrinkled his nose.
“Be good for Miss Faith.” Tom kissed the tops of their heads, catching whiffs of their strawberry-scented shampoo. Then he met Faith’s gaze. “Thank you. Really.”
“No worries.”
Well, he did have worries, but he was glad someone had lessened one of them.
Except he was halfway to the vet when he realized he’d forgotten to get her cell phone number or to leave his with her. Thankfully, his kids had his number memorized, but he’d phone the store the minute he was able to just to check in.
I’m trying to do it right this time, Lord. Please help me to be the man You want me to be. Now that I know I can’t do it without You, I’m counting on You.
Tom’s trust had a habit of faltering at times like these. He was like a man on the edge of a frozen lake, worried if he stepped out, the ice would crack beneath his feet.
But he had no choice but to step out in faith. The dog, the kids, his parents, the store...all caused him anxiety right now. But he had to trust God was doing something here.
Even if his old self thought he was crazy.
Chapter Five
Faith set down the shop phone and turned back to the kids. “It was your dad le
aving me his cell phone number and telling me Roscoe is all signed in at the vet clinic. He wanted to know how you were doing, too.”
“We heard you tell him we’re busy,” Nora said.
Faith resumed her seat, reaching for a palm full of coins. “Your daddy thinks Roscoe ate something he shouldn’t have and will be all right.”
“I wonder what he got into at Grammy’s.” Nora stacked her pennies high rather than putting them into the penny jar.
“He’s at your grandparents’ house?” That explained why Tom’s mom had called with the news, although the situation was curious.
Logan nodded. “There’s a man working on pipes at our house and Daddy says sometimes workers leave the front door open, and he didn’t want Roscoe to run away, so he asked Grammy if Roscoe could visit her house.”
“Grammy said yes, even though I don’t think she and Papa like Roscoe much.”
“They like Roscoe,” Logan argued. “They just don’t like his fur on the couch.”
Faith didn’t know Tom’s parents beyond exchanging polite greetings, but his mom, Elena, was the most successful realtor in the area, according to her advertisements in the local paper, and his dad, Roberto, was a lawyer of some sort. They’d never come into the antiques shop, to her knowledge.
“Maybe they’re allergic to dogs. That’s why I didn’t have a pet when I was growing up. My mom is allergic to cats.”
“But you have a cat now.” Nora created another tower of pennies.
“I sure do.” Wherever Bettina was now—maybe she’d gone upstairs to her plush bed. “I never actually held a cat until Bettina, because I always worried I’d make my mom cough and sneeze if I had fur or dander on my clothes. But my friend Kellan, from the bookstore? He found these kittens that needed homes, and once I held Bettina, I couldn’t tell her goodbye. My mom lives far enough away that I don’t have to worry about Bettina making her sick.”
“Roscoe doesn’t make us sick.” Logan shifted on the chair. “I hope he feels better fast.”
“Me, too.” Faith leaned back. “You know what helps when I’m worried? I ask God for help. Shall we pray?”
A Future for His Twins Page 5