The Maiden in Winter // Harry Styles Series #4

TWO

~Harry~

"What are you thinking about today?"

Leigh almost always begins our sessions with that question.

"Settling in. Sorting out being here, how it's going to work. What I need to accomplish."

"How do you feel about your decision right now?"

"It's the right thing, but I'm anxious. I'm glad George agreed to come. He can take care of day-to-day things, groceries, other errands, and be there when I decide to go out myself."

"You've only been there a week. Do you think you're ready for that?" She always tilts her head forward a bit  and raises her eyebrows a fraction of an inch when it's an important question.

"I think so. This place is so small and quiet, and everyone says it's safe, that the locals are trustworthy."

"You need trustworthy. I'm glad you feel good there. Do you have plans to leave the house soon?"

"I'm going to go to the post office and set up mail delivery. There's a little store as well, but I'm not sure about that yet."

"The post office is a good start. I'll look forward to hearing how you feel after you've been out."

***

~A~

"Aaaalexxx! I'm heeeeeeere!"

I don't know about other six-year-olds, but Benjamin, a.k.a. Bean, is never shy about announcing his presence. Even buried in the back room of the General, as the store is known by the locals, I heard him loud and clear.

"I'm in the walk-in, buddy. Watch the front for a minute?"

"Yes Ma'am!"

He's all business when it comes to minding the store. Greeting customers, helping them find what they need, only calling me out of the back when it's time to ring them up. After a potentially disastrous transaction involving a charge of $159.00 instead of $15.90 – thank goodness it was an infinitely understanding regular - we both agreed to hold off on the register until he was in double digits, at which point we would revisit the process.

I heard the front door jingle as I counted inventory, then heard it again a minute later, which might mean a second customer had come in. Bean could get a bit flustered with more than one customer – he always wanted to give everyone his complete attention - so I came out to check on things.

The store was empty. No customers, no Bean.

Janesport is tiny, and we know pretty much everybody who's there in the off season, so I wasn't particularly worried about the lack of boy. I was curious, though, as to who or what might have led him to abandon his post on an otherwise quiet Tuesday afternoon in mid-September. Poking my head out the front door I looked to the left, down the main street toward the harbor, but no Bean. The tiny post office just to our right was still open; maybe he had gone over there, but it was still odd for him to leave without telling me.

Just then he appeared from next door.

"I had to show the man where the post office was. He came in our door by mistake."

The USPS shared our building, and their sign was between the two doors, so we got the occasional stray.

"I'm glad you helped him. Next time will you let me know you're leaving the store? Even when town's not busy, I need to know where you are and who you're with. Be smart and be safe, remember?"

"Sorry, Alex. He was nice, even though he looked a little bit like a robber."

"Really?" I wondered what a six-year-old's idea of a robber was. Bean didn't remember life before at least some people were masked, so that wasn't it. "What made him look like a robber?"