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All along, I thought Magpie’s had been my mother’s lifelong dream.
But it hadn’t been.
It had been a means to an end.
A way for her to get the community engagement she longed for without a big financial commitment.
My father’s answer about why he was selling the coffee shop rang through my head.
It might be time to let go.
I thought letting the shop go would feel like my mama disappearing all over again. But as I sat here, I realized I’d been afraid to let it go because it would be like losingmyself.
Yes, this had once been my mama’s coffee shop.
But it was my heart, my soul, my love forbothmy parents that was in this shop now.
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.
I wasn’t scared anymore.
And I certainly wasn’t going to let fear decide my fate.
I would find a way to buy this shop. Beg, borrow, steal if I had to.
Because Magpie’s wasmine.
CHAPTER 23AVA
Summer was quickly coming to an end, but it wasn’t going out without one last hot, humid hurrah. The first day of the yard sale had arrived with temperatures in the nineties and high humidity. The dew point was just plain cruel.
“What is this thing?” Sam asked.
The tarnished silver object looked like a cross between a scrub brush and a Slinky. “I have no idea.”
“Huh.” He put it down on one of the many folding tables Dez and I had set up this morning.
Norman slept under the table, in the direct path of the box fan I’d plugged in to try to beat the heat as I manned the cash box. The fan was a little like snow flurries in an inferno, but I’d take all the cool relief I could get at the moment.
There were only fifteen minutes left before we wrapped up for the day, and so far the community-wide yard sale was proving to be a big success. This morning, Dez’s items had spilled across his driveway, the carport, porch, side yard, and the street—he’d even borrowed Sam’s driveway as well. Now, most of that inventory had been sold.
But he still had more items in his storage units that he intended to sell tomorrow and Sunday.
“I’m spreading the love,” he’d told me when I questioned why he wouldn’t just sell it all in one day.
He was currently laughing it up near the pink pylons with a young couple who were bartering for a steamer trunk. Dez was in his element, wheeling and dealing. With his big personality, he was a natural-born salesman.
With seemingly endless energy, he hadn’t slowed down at allduring the day, bouncing around like an excited child who’d eaten too much sugar. His face glowed with vitality, his skin glistening from the heat.
He looked perfectly healthy.
Normal, even.
Except he talked to ghosts.
Or, at least, one ghost.
I still hadn’t spoken to Maggie about the conversation I’d overheard. With her mood, the timing hadn’t been right. But I would soon.
