“Are you sure he’s... safe?”
“That boy’s practically got wholesome tattooed on his forehead. I kinda feel sorry for him. He’s character actor material and not bad, but he’s rough around the edges. I’ve gotten to know him pretty well over the past year. Trust me, he’s safe.” Melody gripped Riley’s hand. “Thanks for caring, sis.”
“Always.” Riley held her hand tight, then let it go. She was so grateful for Melody’s friendship. She had answered Riley’s ad for a new roommate at the local university where she took theater classes. Friendship had never come easy to Riley, but Melody’s easygoing and caring personality had eventually pulled her out of her shell.
She was also grateful to the unknown Charlie for taking over the rent for a little while. “Guess I better search online for a flight.”
“And I’ve got to get ready for the exciting world of waitressing. Double shift today. Yay me.” Melody got up from the couch and headed for the one bedroom in the apartment. When they first rented the place together, they agreed to change rooms every three months. The arrangement had worked out well, especially since neither of them was big on entertaining visitors. When she wasn’t delivering food, Riley was focused on her art, while Melody, a social butterfly who liked being out and about, often spent time with her actor friends at various places around the city. The few times she dragged Riley out of the cave had been torture. Riley was used to being alone, and she liked it that way.
A few moments later, Melody emerged from the bedroom, dressed in the white T-shirt and black pants her job required. Her blue-and-orange-striped drawstring backpack was slung over her shoulders, and her lips glistened with plum lipstick that perfectly complemented her dark skin.
“See you tomorrow,” she said, opening the apartment door. “Don’t wait up.”
Riley waved goodbye as Melody closed the door. She rose from the couch and turned the double locks into place, then glanced at her ruined art. She wasn’t in the mood to try to fix it now. Instead, she walked over to the window and gazed at the view of the brick apartment building next door. Not much of a vista, but like every struggling artist trying to make it in the big city, she couldn’t afford to be picky. Still, New York was her home.
The window was cracked open, letting in the buzz of city life. When she’d first arrived, she had been awed by the place. Too awed, to the point of culture shock. She wasn’t used to the mix of cultures, but she had quickly grown to appreciate the diversity of the people living here. She’d never gotten used to the nightlife, but that was fine. Her focus wasn’t on having fun. She was determined to break into the hip art scene that had eluded her for the past ten years.
She might be broke and in serious need of some vitamin D, not to mention shedding a few pounds, but at least she wasn’t in Maple Falls. The only way she’d planned to return was after she had proven to herself and everyone else that she was different. Successful. Responsible. And nothing like Tracey. Thanks to her grandmother not acting her age, Riley’s plan was now in shambles.
Riley turned and stared at the ruined peacock feather and the golden threads she had painstakingly glued over thick, lifted curls of purple, blue, ochre, and green acrylic paint. Poking through the colorful swirls in what seemed like a random pattern but had taken hours to design were the glossy black-and-white magazine pictures of city life. The comfort of nature’s colors clashing with the harshness of human constructs. She loved to explore opposite concepts in her art using unexpected materials—fabric, feathers, a variety of paints, anything with texture, and especially substances that on the surface were easily discarded things yet could be transformed into something beautiful.
A sigh escaped. There’d been a time when she thought her art was unique, and in the unsophisticated town of Maple Falls, it was. But not here. Mixed-media artists were everywhere, and getting herself noticed in a sea of aspiring creatives had been beyond difficult. But she wasn’t going to give up. There wasn’t time to fix the piece the way she wanted to, but she would tackle it when she returned. Right now she had to go take care of her grandmother, which meant working at Knots and Tangles again.
A car horn sounded below, jolting Riley’s thoughts. She’d never imagined she’d be working there again. During her teen years she spent hours in her grandmother’s yarn shop. Not only working but practicing her art in the all-purpose room in the back. The old yarn store had been her job and her haven. But even she could see that it was a fifty-year millstone around her grandmother’s neck. Mimi needed to sell the store and retire. Riley had mentioned it to her over the years only to be instantly shut down. Maple Falls was in decline when Riley moved away, and from little hints she gathered during conversations with Mimi, things hadn’t improved.
Riley thought her grandmother not only needed to sell the store but also needed to put her large house on the market and move in with Myrtle. Or maybe Myrtle could move in with Mimi. Riley wasn’t naive enough to think her grandmother would come to New York with her, but Mimi moving in with one of her good friends was a possibility. They were both widows, and paring down expenses would benefit them both. If there was something Riley was an expert at, it was pinching her pennies.
While her brain knew retirement and consolidation were in Mimi’s best interest, the thought of the store being in someone else’s hands pinched at her heart. She shoved the feeling away, as she normally did when she grew sentimental. It was time her grandmother embraced change. This visit was a prime opportunity for Riley to convince her of that.
She felt an unexpected spark of hope. She had a plan now—help Mimi heal and convince her to sell her shop and the house. All three tasks wouldn’t be easy, but she was determined. Once her grandmother unchained herself from the past, Riley could too—and when she left Maple Falls this time, it would be for good.
She crossed the small living room, opened her ancient laptop, and started to search for a flight. As she surfed, another thought popped into her mind. But no—she didn’t have to worry about running intohim. Like her, he’d moved on from Maple Falls. Still, remembering the crush she’d had on him in high school—one he had no idea about—caused a tiny flutter in her stomach. Talk about silly. She hadn’t given him a single thought since she left Maple Falls. Okay, maybe one... or fifty thoughts since she’d left, but not any recently. And there was no reason for her to think about Hayden Price again now. She put him out of her mind and booked her flight to Arkansas.
***
“Erma Jean McAllister, you need Jesus.”
Erma set her cell phone on the counter and looked at her friend of close to sixty-five years. She tapped her chest with two fingers. “I have Jesus. Right in here.”
“Then you need a double portion.” Myrtle Benson straightened the business cards on the counter next to the small antique cash register that was just for show. A working adding machine from the eighties was right next to it. “Good thing we have evening service tonight.”
Erma wheeled herself from behind the counter, trying not to knock down a display of knitting needles with her outstretched, plaster-covered leg. She was proud that her little store, Knots and Tangles, was one of the original businesses in Maple Falls and at one time had the most yarn and fiber art supplies within a one-hundred-fifty-mile radius. Her mother owned the shop before Erma, and her grandmother had started the business. A woman entrepreneur was almost unheard of back then. Erma had worked here since she was twelve, and very little of the shop had changed since then. The place was full to the brim, and that was the way she liked it.
Her wheelchair, however, did not. “What are you prattling on about?” she said.
Myrtle sighed. “That phone call you just made to Riley. Land sakes, woman, you know I can cancel my trip anytime.”
“And let you disappoint Jorge?”
“His name is Javier. And I’m sure he’s long gone from the ship anyway. You know those jobs can be temporary.”
Erma caught the dreamy look in Myrtle’s eyes, the same one she’d had when she came home from her cruise eight months ago after meeting Jorge, er, Javier, the silver-haired—and silver-tongued, apparently—maître d’ at one of the fancy restaurants on the cruise ship. Erma couldn’t remember the name of the place, but she did remember how Myrtle wouldn’t stop talking about the food—and theservice.
“You’ve been looking forward to this trip for so long.”
“I haven’t heard from him since my last letter.” Myrtle stuck out her lower lip, covered in a soft pink lipstick that coordinated with her oversize handbag. “I might as well cancel.”
“If you cancel, I’m going in your place.”
