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He could have handled the store on his own. Hell, he could have even delegated the closing to someone else and gone back to New York, but it felt right to see it through and even more right to have his sister by his side. Yet something inside of him warned that he shouldn’t get too comfortable with this close arrangement.
His dad always kept files in the back, alphabetized by each resident’s last name. He searched the cabinet for Montgomery, but all the notes were in his dad’s handwriting and the yellowed papers were more than a decade old. Then he spotted a freshly labeled file under MOSCONI.
Removing the folder, he opened it and grinned at his sister’s handwriting. His finger traced down the various materials that listed the finish she used on her floors and the width of moldings she’d ordered to update the doors.
His stare dragged down the page, the short nail of his index finger stopping just beneath the word HALLWAY. He jotted down the code for the paint color and closed the file, happy to finish the job he’d started last night.
The bell over the front door rang and the morning rush began. As the inventory thinned, a sense of urgency expanded, leaving him hyperaware that his time was running out. He wasn’t sure if he’d been counting down the days until he could return to New York or the dwindling moments he had left to make things right with Mariella.
Did he want to make things right? Maybe this was as good as things could get. She wanted more and he wanted her to have everything she needed. The right thing to do, if he had no plans of sticking around, meant getting out of her way.
So why the hell did his chest hurt like a heart attack every time he thought about letting her go? Rather than try to figure out the problems in his life he couldn’t seem to solve, he busied himself with quick fixes that masked his misery with productivity.
The people of Jasper Falls loved a good sale. Every purchase brought him closer to an end, but the longer he interacted with the townspeople and hung out with his sister, the more confusing the future appeared.
Every customer that came in raved about the crumb cake. Ward had always insisted that cake could make or break a sale, and as much as Harrison hated the man, in the case of the cake he was right.
During the midafternoon lull, Harrison watched Erin clean the front window. He didn’t know how she could put so much pride into something they mutually hated.
“Why are you doing that?”
She sprayed the glass of the front door. “Doing what?”
“You’re cleaning like we’re keeping this place.”
Her hand paused but she didn’t look at him. Then she continued wiping the glass. “This store’s a part of us. Throwing it away feels like we’re giving up.”
The unusual warmth he felt after their talk that morning shifted to cold dread. “Erin, we’re selling the store.”
“I know that’s the plan, but it isn’t the only solution.”
What the hell was she talking about? “Yes, it is.” She wasn’t thinking clearly. “Are you going to run it? How about Giovanni? What happens when he goes on tour again?”
She crumpled the dirty paper towel between her fingers. “We don’t have to run it and it doesn’t have to stay a hardware store. It’s prime storefront on Main Street. We could rent it.”
“Is that what you want?” He had no issue signing over the deed to her so she could generate some passive income.
“No, I…” Her mouth pursed. “I just don’t see the rush to sell it.”
They let the topic drop when another customer arrived, but her words echoed in his head. Was it really about owning a rental property, or was this about her fear that he’d disappear once the store sold? Maybe she feared he’d have no reason to come back.
He wanted to assure her that wouldn’t happen, but he didn’t fully trust himself. Truth be told, the only reason he returned at all was because the taxes were due, and he wanted to get the sale over with so he’d never have to pay taxes or return to Jasper Falls again.
When he got to his sister’s house that night, he checked the spackle and set the paint and sand paper in the hall. Giovanni watched television in the den and paid him no mind while Erin chopped vegetables in the kitchen.
“I’m making tacos,” she announced as Harrison stared into the skillet on the stove. “Do you want chicken or beef?”
This strange, new side of his sister amused him. Who knew she could be so…domestic? “Beef.”
“Lay a tarp down before you sand. I don’t want that dust getting in the cracks on my floor.”
Her floor… He liked that she’d become so territorial about the house. Thinking of it as Erin’s home somehow made it easier to visit.
