It took him fifteen minutes to paddle to the dam, and when they arrived, Valerie passed back a cup of coffee from the picnic basket he’d tucked in the canoe.
“Beavers are most active from dusk until dawn, so we might not see them,” he warned. Valerie was looking from side to side, her new hat tilted jauntily on her head.
“Is that the lodge?” She pointed at what looked like a messy pile of wood.
“It is.”
She ate the fruit and muffins he’d brought, listening closely.
“There!” Valerie pointed to a small splash in the distance. “A beaver!”
At the sound of her glee, Nico decided he’d take the beaver a gift to thank it for showing up. Would it like trees to gnaw? Valerie turned and he glimpsed her wide eyes. Yeah, that beaver deserved a forest.
* * *
“A market?” asked Valerie as they pulled up to the long, low building. They’d spent part of the drive debating what life was like in a beaver lodge and if the beavers got muddy. He’d suggested simply checking online for the answer, but Valerie insisted the fun of it was to debate nonsensically.
It had been pretty fun.
“They call it Odds and Ends, but it’s part crafts, part antiques, and part thrift store.”
“Sounds up my alley.” She grabbed his hand as they went through the double doors. The market was set up in an old stable, with the vendors in the various stalls and lines down the center. There appeared to be no rhyme or reason to the setup, and Nico automatically began to mentally sort the vendors by product type to make the experience more efficient. That way shoppers could go in, instantly find what they wanted, make their purchase, and get on with the day, like in a grocery store.
He was expanding the concept to create a plan for all markets that could be applied regardless of location when he realized that, like Valerie, most people’s goal was not to make a quick and targeted purchase. They were there to browse, which was not something he was used to. Why spend all that time looking at stuff you weren’t going to buy? When Nico had to buy something, he searched online for what best suited his needs, found the lowest price, and pulled out his wallet. He’d never gone shopping with another person as an adult, not even Madison. Valerie was poking around a rack of old dresses, rubbing fabric between her fingers and murmuring about darts or something before moving on.
The pleasure seemed to be in the experience. He could tell by the way she bounced from vendor to vendor, looking at terrariums made of crystal to dangly earrings that she held by her face. “Chandeliers. Too heavy, though.” She clung to his arm and smiled up into his face. “This is perfect.”
If Valerie was happy, that’s what mattered. He followed her into another stall and began to thumb through pages of old books before turning to a wooden crate filled with old jazz vinyls and then a long case of belt buckles. Could he be a funky buckle guy? Maybe. Perhaps that’s what the shoppers were really hunting—new selves and interests, not simply things to buy.
He looked at Valerie laughing with the vendor as he pointed out afeathered fan simply to share its beauty, and supposed some things were more important than efficiency.
Only some things, though. Office workflows were still pretty neat.
* * *
Valerie had left her phone on the table when she went to wash her hands before lunch. The screen lit up with a message from her mother.
Almost forgot but better late than never. Happy birthday from Erica, Justin, Paul, and your mother.
It was wrong of him to read her private message, but he checked it again to make sure he’d seen it properly. Her own mother almost forgot. On his birthday, his family blew up his phone, and not even Stefanie would neglect to call with an off-tune rendition of “Happy Birthday.” He’d tended to roll his eyes at how over the top they could be, but now he understood how lucky he was.
To see how unappreciated Valerie was made him furious on her behalf. Anger was better than the ache he felt lingering under it.
When she came back to the table, she glanced at her phone and bit her cheek before simply dropping it in her bag. She said nothing, and he decided to give her space. The server brought their tea: pink-lemonade rose hibiscus for Valerie and a more sedate Darjeeling for him. They were in a garden and Nico had to admit this was the perfect venue for Valerie. The orange umbrella shading the table made her glow, and she’d arranged her new hat on its own chair. She looked around with approval at the tiny animal statues and garden gnomes that lay hidden under flowers and by trees.
“I should have brought Odile to hang out with her stone brethren,” she said. “I haven’t had a birthday like this in ages.”
“What do you usually do?” This could be a good way to get her talking about her family.
“I suppose I work. You?”
“I take the day off and go for a long walk to take stock of my life,” Nico said.
The tea tray arrived, a tiered plate so high Valerie had to look around the scones to see him. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“My mom was big on birthdays,” he said. “She or my dad would take us out of school for the day to do something special. She says it’s important to try to take a single day in the year to remember the point of being alive. It’s a habit for me now.”
Valerie took one of the Brie and mushroom quiche slices. “I was usually at my dad’s and the twins loved candles, so they got to blow mine out each year.”
