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She reached out to pat my hand on the countertop again. “You need to save your money.”
“I am, Mom, but I can help. Maybe I could even get a second?—”
She interrupted me. “I already have a plan. I’ve been talkin’ with a friend about maybe… maybe openin’ up my own store in downtown Wisper. What would you think about that?”
“Which friend?” My eyes narrowed all by themselves. I just knew she was going to say Red’s name. It was too much of a coincidence that they’d just met. She didn’t know anybody else who owned and ran a store.
“Well now, don’t go gettin’ yourself in a huff, but Mr. Graves told me there’s an empty space next to his store. He owns it, and he said it’s all fitted out already with nice floors. It gets good light and could easily be turned into a little shop. I could even have my own studio there, could sell my Native crafts. I could even take on bigger projects. The space is pretty small, but there’s room for multiple workspaces, and it’s right off the alley, so customers can see it when they walk by, and there’s good parking. And it’s got huge front windows where we could make displays and put up a big sign.”
Huh. It wasn’t the worst idea in the world.
I’d wondered about the space next to Red’s store. It was barely a hole in the wall, but there were two floors, just like the store. All the old brick buildings had at least two floors, so she could have her shop on the bottom floor and her studio up above. Rye said Red used his second floor for storage, but I hadn’t been up there. Theo and Brady lived on the third floor above Ace’s House across the street, and it was a really cool apartment that had a kind of urban vibe. I was already picturing my mom’s crafts and the clothing she made in a place like that. And with the increased tourism and commerce settling into town lately, I bet she could sell the hell out of her crafts.
But there remained one huge red flag. Redder than red. Blood red. Ugh. Freaking Red Graves. Yeah, so maybe he and I had more in common than I wanted to admit, but could we trust him?
“Yeah, but, Mom, I don’t know if we can?—”
“Devil, when are you gonna grow up?” She stood and carried her mug to the sink and dumped it out. She was really irritated with me if she was dumping her coffee. I winced. “He may not be your favorite person, and I understand why, but that man has been a successful business owner for years. Decades. He’s a respected—” She stopped the lie about to fall from her lips. “His store is a staple in that town. I could learn a thing or two from him, and so could you.”
“What do you want me to learn from him? He’s awful. He’s mean!”
“Devo, people are more complicated than you’re givin’ ’em credit for. Red Graves has been through a lot.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. He’s well aware of how badly he’s treated people, and he’s already thinkin’ of ways to make amends. You don’t know his history. And frankly, I’m disappointed in you for not tryin’ to get to know him better so you might understand him. That’s what you were s’posed to have been doin’ this last week, but it doesn’t sound to me like you learned a thing.”
Well. That was just… I scoffed. It was a load of fucking malarkey! And it scared me to trust the man who’d been giving me hell for years. She was my mom! My responsibility. What if he hurt her? What if…
What if?
“I don’t know what kinda Kool-Aid you been drinkin’, Mom, but you better watch out, ’cause it might just choke you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ABEY
Shop owners had come out to gear up and get ready for the first of many start-of-fall sales days in Wisper. Windows had been cleaned and seasonal displays decorated every storefront on Main Street.
Decorative hay bales, red leaves, and pumpkins littered the store windows and sidewalks. Walt over at Coffee Shot was having an “I hate pumpkin spice” promotion. If a customer ordered a drink without it, he gave them a discount. Some people needed a kick in the butt to get their mindset out of the long, blue-sky days of summer and into the cooler, sweater-wearing days of autumn. The fresh dusting of snow on the tallest mountain peaks would help. Any day now.
But Red Graves didn’t seem to need assistance getting into the fall mood. For once. When I walked up behind him in front of Red Wild to check on him and see how he was doing now that he was back to working in his own store, he was whistling a cheery tune as he swept the dirt off his front stoop.
Whistling? Red?
“Mornin’,” I said, and he spun to face me.
“Oh, good mornin’. It’s a fine day already.”
He smiled, and I felt my eyebrows dipping down and bushing together like a long caterpillar under the brown brim of my hat. “A fine day?”
“Yeah,” he said, a peaceful look plastered across his face as he gazed down Main Street, surveying the slow morning foot traffic. He looked up at the cloudless blue sky and closed his eyes for a few seconds, breathed deeply, then opened them again, and they landed back on me. “The sun’s shinin’, the birds are singin’. A fine day.”
“You feelin’ alright?” I asked, completely caught off guard. Thinking back over the entirety of my life, I couldn’t remember the man ever saying “good morning” or that any day was a “fine day.”
“Fit as a fiddle. Actually,” he said thoughtfully, “I haven’t felt this good in a long time. Must’ve gotten good sleep last night.”
O-o-okay? Red acting like a nice person had to be the weirdest thing I’d encountered in a while, but I didn’t plan to argue or complain about it. If he’d decided to be a decent human being all of a sudden, I could definitely get behind that.
