At Wick's End - Tim Myers [15]
Cragg glanced at his watch. “We can’t do this in a minute or two. I’m free after five. We’ll meet in my office then.”
With that, he dismissed me, but I didn’t have time to come up with something snappy to say in response. I’ve been known to have a slight problem with authority figures in the past, so I didn’t take too kindly to the order implicit in his request, especially since he was my tenant, and not the other way around.
Maybe I’d show up at five, and maybe I wouldn’t.
At the moment, I had some packing to do.
It was amazing how little I’d acquired in the way of possessions over the years. After packing two boxes of keepsakes, a suitcase and travel bag stuffed with clothes, I was ready to move. I tossed out some things in my refrigerator that had been in there so long they were taking on lives of their own and grabbed a stack of paperbacks and magazines I’d already read to give to Mrs. Harper, the sweet old gal who lived next door. We often made it a habit of swapping reading materials. She had the most eclectic tastes of anybody I’d ever known, and a mind that had sharpened to a fine point over the years from her constant reading.
After I brought her up-to-date on my vastly changed life, she said, “I hate to see you go, Harrison. I’m going to miss you.”
As I handed her my ragtag collection of reading materials, I said, “I’ll miss you too, but I can’t stay. It just makes sense this way now that I’ve got an apartment over the candle shop. Don’t worry, I’ll come see you when I get the chance.”
“I might just surprise you,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “I’ve always been quite fond of candles. I may just come visit you at your store sometime soon.”
“That would be great. Just give me time to get settled in first.”
She smiled softly, “And wait until you learn how to make candles as well?” She patted my hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll do fine, Harrison.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
She surprised us both by kissing me on the cheek just before saying good-bye.
And that was that, the final tie I had to my old life. At least it was near the end of the month, so I didn’t waste much on unused rent. The landlord took my key, shrugged but otherwise showed no sign that my presence would be missed.
I loaded everything in the back of my pickup and I was on my way to my new home.
“Good morning,” I said as I walked into At Wick’s End seventeen minutes before it officially opened.
Eve said, “Belle and I had a morning routine before the shop opened every morning. We arrive forty-five minutes before the doors are unlocked.” She tried to hide the scolding in her voice.
“I had to move my things here from my old apartment,” I said, finding it odd that the owner was explaining his non-tardiness to his employee like a small child in school. I added, “By the way, if you’re interested, I’ve got a few boxes of Belle’s things if you’d like to look through them before I take them to the Salvation Army.”
“I do perfectly well on my own,” Eve said. The ground we’d made the day before was in danger of slipping away.
“I’m not asking if you want charity,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. “I thought you might like a keepsake or two, that’s all. I’m holding onto a beautiful two-foot candle myself.”
Eve’s hard edges softened instantly. “The red one? It was the last candle Belle made. Harrison, I’m sorry, I appreciate the offer, I really do.” She let out a heavy sigh, then said, “It’s not that I resent Belle leaving everything to you, she was perfectly within her rights to do so, but I imagined I’d inherit At Wick’s End someday myself.” Realizing how it must have sounded, she quickly added, “Not from her death, mind you, but Belle