The Maiden in Winter // Harry Styles Series #4

THREE

~H~

"What are you thinking about today?"

"This place. It might be just right. There's hardly anyone here. Just the post office, a general store, and a dock bar. Of course I've only been out the once."

"With George?"

"He drove, but I went in the post office myself. Used Harold Selley on the box. They don't deliver to the house. The postmaster didn't recognize me. Neither did the little boy who showed me the right door. I went in the store by mistake and there he was, this little blond boy, sitting behind the register like he owned the place. Adorable."

"How did it feel talking to him?"

I'm sure she knows exactly how it felt. She wants me to say it, to admit it, to own it.

"It made me sad, Leigh. Even after all this time, I still miss them."

"I know you do, and that's ok. Do you think you'll go back to the store?"

"I will. They say it'll be chilly enough soon that a hat and scarf won't seem completely out of place. And if things are ok, if the town is always this quiet, hopefully I'll be able to just be myself after a while."

"I hope that for you, too. And if the boy's there again?"

"I'll be happy to see him. I'll be fine." And I'm pretty sure I will.

***

~A~

The store's off-season hours were pretty reasonable. Eight thirty to five thirty Monday through Friday, eight thirty to one thirty on Saturday, closed on Sunday. Lizzy Lowell, having retired a few years earlier, worked most Saturdays and would cover for me when I needed a weekday off. Andy, a local paramedic, took a turn now and then as well when his schedule permitted.

I had a parent-teacher conference at Bean's school that Friday afternoon, so I wasn't behind the counter when the mysterious man came to the store as a customer for the first time.

"Well, Lizzy? Tell me about him."

"Ed was right, he seems worn out. Limping a little, hat and sunglasses on, scruffy face above the scarf he was wrapped up in. Very polite, though. He bought himself a few cans of soup, some frozen veggies, some chips and gum and candy. Asked after Bean. Said the store hadn't changed much since the last time he was here."

I perked up at that. "Oh, did he say when that was?"

"No, and I didn't push. He didn't seem in a hurry but didn't want to stay and chat either. You know the type."

I did. Some people were rushed and rude, some lingered too long and talked too much. The majority just came in to do their business, exchange a few words, and move on.

"Did you tell him about lunch?"

She nodded, "Both eat-in and take-away. He seemed more interested in the latter. I got the impression he's not here to socialize."

"Hmm... maybe he's an author working on something. Remember Peter, that writer who was here two years ago?"

Lizzy gave me a little side eye and a sly smile, "Oh, I remember him, but Lisha might remember him even better than either of us."

Kalisha Potter had worked her way from summer barback to year-round manager at the Fluke, Janesport's only bar and restaurant. Petite and curvaceous, with rich espresso skin, bright magenta box braids that fell almost to her waist, and a flirtatious and feisty personality, Andy had been referring to us as Betty and Veronica for years. But despite the contrasts between us, we had been best friends for nearly a decade.