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“Actually,” I said, “if you have a second, I’d like to talk to you.”
Surprise lit Dad’s eyes.
Ava hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll go get that other bin.”
Donovan dumped the contents of the dustpan in the trash, then heaved the bag out of the can. “Let me help. It’s the least I can do after you saved the bakery from going up in flames.”
I suspected he’d meant his words to sound lighthearted, but I heard the hitch in his voice.
She said, “I’m glad I was awake, is all.”
Dad watched them go. “We really know how to clear a room.”
He balanced the blue plastic bin he held on his knee and opened the storeroom door. I picked up the box Ava had carried in, which wasn’t heavy at all, and followed him inside. As I placed it among the many others he’d already brought here, I noticed the writing on the side of the box readNOT FOR SALE.
The bin he carried also had aNOT FOR SALElabel stuck to it. I bit my tongue to keep from asking about why he was storing items here and not his storage units, but I didn’t want to start a fight. The washing machine whirred and whined as we faced each other. Finally, I said, “I want to buy the coffee shop.”
His eyebrows slid upward. “That so?”
I nodded. “I still need to figure out some of the math but I think it’s doable. Delaney Parrentine’s daughter, Amanda, works for a mortgage company. I’m hoping she can pull some strings, fast-track my application.”
The financial aspect of buying the shop scared the stuffing out of me. I was already stretched thin. Paper thin. I was afraidthe mortgage company was going to see that, plain as day, and think I wasn’t worth the risk.
“I won’t budge on an asking price,” Dad said. “Fair market value.”
“I’ll get that money one way or another,” I said, holding back cranky words about his attitude.
Dad crossed his arms. “Tell me why, Magpie.Whydo you want to buy the shop?”
“I told you—”
“Don’t you dare tell me it’s because this is your mama’s shop.”
I wasn’t at all sure what he wanted to hear. “As much as you want to let go, some things are worth holding on to. This coffee shop is one of those things. I cannot let her dream go.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, he headed for door. But before he walked out, he glanced back at me. “Holding on is all well and good, as long as you’re holding on for the right reasons. But, Maggie, you’re only holding on because you’re too scared to let go.”
AVA
It was just a door.
A door that opened to a staircase.
A staircase that led to storage space in the attic.
The attic that might be haunted.
“I’m not scared,” I said to Molly as I stood at the end of the hallway. “I’m just”—I yawned and stretched—“taking a breather before I go up there.”
Molly’s whiskers twitched.
The cat had been pretty much glued to my side since I’d moved in two days ago, and I was starting to wonder if her behavioral problems were related to loneliness. I’d barely seen Dez since I moved in, and had the feeling he didn’t spend much time at home.
Molly still didn’t welcome touching of any sort, but she’d been sleeping with me. She also kept me company while I cleaned the house or worked on Junebear.
The teddy was coming along. Her ears were now lined with a cotton print of vibrant flowers. I’d embroidered a purple rose, the birth flower associated with June, to cover a gash on a shoulder. There was still a huge hole in her chest I needed to figure out how to patch, and her face was still a work in progress. I’d tried embroidering a pink nose, but it hadn’t felt right, and I’d ended up tearing out the stitches.
I’d been working on Junebear a few moments ago when I heardsomethingin the attic. I wasn’t sure what. It wasn’t a crash. Or a squeak. Or footsteps. It had sounded like a… rattle.
