One Perfect Year. Melinda Curtis
was the smile he used to disguise what he was really thinking. She didn’t know enough about what was going on in his life to pinpoint whatever he was concealing. Was he still grieving? Was he overwhelmed, as she was, by Harmony Valley memories? Was he regretting abandoning her two years ago?
Don’t open the door to caring. He was Dead Gage. And he was leaving soon. “We’ll outfit the space with all new appliances,” Christine was saying. “This is the Taj Mahal compared to the condition of the sheriff’s apartment when he moved in above the station.”
“On a clear day, if you stand on your tip-toes, you can see the bend in the river.” Mae spoke in a faraway tone, more to herself than anyone else.
Quirking an eyebrow at the senior, Gage then entered the bedroom. As if magnetized, Shelby followed, pausing in the doorway and hearing Christine come up behind her.
“They used to hold dances in the town square on summer nights.” Mae continued to speak as if drifting between memories. “It used to be a privilege to live downtown, didn’t it, Oliver?”
“Who?” Christine whispered.
“Uh, she means Gage, I think.” At least, Shelby hoped so. “Gage, did it used to be cool to live downtown?”
“How would he know?” Mae coughed deeply, reaching in her pocket for a crumpled tissue and spitting in it. “This place has always brought me luck in love. If Shelby lived here, she’d be engaged again in no time, perhaps to that young man right there. You two would make beautiful babies. His midnight hair. Her sky-blue eyes.”
The man under question was scanning the perimeter of the room, hopefully unaware of the heat collecting in Shelby’s cheeks. He pointed to the baseboards. “Mice droppings. You’ll need a good mouser.”
“Ew.” Shelby backed out of the doorway, bumping into Christine, making a mental note to ask her grandfather about Mae’s mental health.
“Give me a month.” Christine took in the bedroom with an assessing glance. “An exterminator, new appliances, new countertops, a new shine to the floors and windows, and you won’t recognize the place.” She turned to Shelby expectantly. When Shelby didn’t immediately jump at the offer, her boss added, “Hurry, before I change my mind and offer it to Ryan.”
“Whether it has Mae’s love karma or not, you should take it.” Gage gave Shelby a small smile. “As your friend, I’m advising you to at least consider living here.”
Her friend? Shelby refrained from pointing out friends came when you called. She refrained from commenting at all.
Her silence grew until it bordered on rudeness. She didn’t want to offend Christine. It was a generous offer. But the building and its faded optimism...
Living here would make her feel like a hypocrite.
Years ago, anything had seemed possible—an interesting career, happiness, everlasting friendship and love. Shelby knew better now. She had to keep her head down, her gaze firmly on the path beneath her feet, and protect what little joy she had left.
Not that she could say that to anyone without being considered as out of touch with reality as Mae. They all stared at Shelby, waiting for her to answer. Mae with her unflinching expression. Christine with curiosity. Dead Gage with understanding.
She wanted to tell Gage he understood nothing. How could he know where she was emotionally after two years of ignoring her?
They continued to wait for her response.
The weight of their scrutiny finally broke her. “Sure. Of course. I’ll consider it,” Shelby blurted, feeling as fake as a two-dollar wine paired with a filet mignon.
She’d consider it the same way Gage was considering her grandfather’s proposition to stay in Harmony Valley.
Not at all.
“DON’T BE DISCOURAGED by the dust and age of the basic equipment.” Dr. Wentworth unlocked the door to his office. “It’s the insight of a vet that makes a practice thrive, not the age of your exam table.”
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