Page 59

“There’s no way this place is fire marshal approved,” I mutter, squeezing between a dollhouse and a line of illuminated floor lamps.

Willow ventures off to the left, looking at a taxidermied squirrel wearing a tiny top hat, as I find Mr. Fields in a wingback chair. He stares at the floor, rocking forward before slowly straightening to his feet. When his legs shake ominously, I catch him by the elbow of his tweed suit, using my free hand to collect his cane from beside the chair and hand it to him.

“Oh,” he says, surprised. “You’re new. Did he come with you?”

“Yup,” Willow says, playfully popping the P as she turns around. “This is Shane. Shane, meet my good friend, Mr. Fields.”

I nod in greeting.

“Willow comes in almost every week,” he tells me, finally gaining his balance.

“You have the best selection in town, and the company’s not bad either.” She beams at him before glancing at me. “Shane needs a credenza. I was thinking the shaker one.”

“A lovely piece,” Mr. Fields agrees.

I release him but stay close just in case.

“We also need a few statement pieces like this.” She picks up a giant ceramic cat wearing a bowtie.

When my lips dive into a frown, Willow giggles. It’s then that I realize she’s teasing me by intentionally picking something garish. That knowledge loosens the chains wound around my ribs.

“Perhaps the bronze goose would be more to his liking?”

“Yes!” Willow disappears into the bowels of the store before returning just as quickly, triumphantly holding the small sculpture over her head. With its wings spread wide, it looks as if it’s about to take flight. It’s almost…regal.

When they both stare expectantly, I sigh.

“That means he likes it.” Willow sets the bird beside the register.

“How can you tell?”

“It’s like learning a new language. Fortunately, I’m a quick study,” she tells Mr. Fields with a wink.

“Can he speak?” Mr. Fields whispers to Willow while I’m standing directly beside him.

Willow nods solemnly. “But only if you’re really good.”

“This is ridiculous.”

Mr. Fields lets out a delighted hoot. “It worked!”

I groan, crossing my arms.

“What does that mean?” Mr. Fields whispers like they’re in their own little world.

“That we better stop poking the bear.” She grins at me before wrapping her fingers around my sleeve.

I let Willow tug me by the elbow into another claustrophobic section until we lose sight of Mr. Fields.

“Wait. We can’t leave him standing by himself. What if he falls?”

Willow’s gaze slides from where her fingers are wrapped around my arm to my eyes. Hesitation wisps across her gaze before she reaches to brush a strand of hair off my forehead. “He’ll be okay.”

I try not to react to the blissful contact.

“You’re sure?”

She nods. “I thought the same thing at first. That’s why I kept coming back and checking on him, but Mr. Fields has an incredible family who helps him open and close the store. He’s also more stable than he looks and really likes his independence. It’s sweet of you to worry, though.”