Avery straightened the new Haitian crafts her father had brought and lit three vanilla candles, one on each table and one on the counter.
Their scent mingled with leftover smells of lunch and coffee—and the étouffée she had fixed for dinner. Only the dim light over the register was on. After all, she wouldn’t want to confuse the customers.
The bells on the front door jingled, and a smile lit her face. A man, more than six feet tall, stood on the threshold, the person she had been expecting.
He looked over at the big round clock on the wall behind the counter and wrinkled his nose. “Did I get my wires crossed?”
“This is Magnolia Market. What address were you looking for?”
“I’m T. J. Aillet, and I’m looking for Avery Broussard.”
“You found her,” she said softly, and he moved to gather her in a hug.
He glanced down at her feet. “I want you to know you’re the only person whose shoes I’ve ever noticed.”
She laughed, and he kissed her, running his fingers through her hair.
“Ahem.”
Did the bell on the door jingle?
“Ross!” Avery jumped back, her face flooding with heat.
Ross Broussard stood inside, his face unreadable. “When I asked you to check on Avery, T. J., looks like you took it seriously.”
Even in February, he was tan, every golden hair in place. With his dress slacks, starched shirt, and blue-striped tie, he could have been about to sign a big real-estate deal or preach at a wedding. But his eyes looked tired, and his mouth was tight.
“Best favor I ever did for anyone.” T. J.’s eyes were wary. “When’d you get back?”
“This afternoon.” The veins in his neck stuck out. “Marsh said I’d probably find the two of you here. Congratulations on signing the papers, Avery—and whatever else is going on.”
“I was going to call you, man,” T. J. said, “but things have been crazy.”
Ross looked at the candlelit table. “So that’s what you call it when you start fooling around with my brother’s wife?”
“Ross.” His name was mixed with a gasp as it left Avery’s mouth.
“Uncalled for.” T. J. stepped forward, his fists clenched. “Avery doesn’t deserve that.”
“Wait, T. J.” She put her hand on his arm. “Ross, I should have told you we were getting . . . close, but it’s brand-new. And I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You hurt me by not calling me back and avoiding me whenever possible.” He crossed his arms. “You were my sister-in-law for five years. Doesn’t that mean something?”
“Yes, it does.” Her voice was so quiet that the hum of the cooler almost obscured it. “I loved Cres, but it didn’t work out and now he’s gone.”
T. J. opened his mouth, but Avery squeezed his arm.
“I want your blessing to move on, Ross.” She sniffed. “I want us to be friends and to make new memories.”
Ross cleared his throat. “I wish my brother had made different decisions, but he wasn’t all bad.”
“No, he wasn’t.” She moved toward him and gave him a quick embrace before stepping back to T. J.’s side. “I’ll never forget the good. But I’m putting the bad behind me. Starting over.”
He narrowed his eyes, looking toward T. J. “This caught me off guard.”
“Me too.” She gripped T. J.’s hand. “But I’m thankful. For so much, I’m thankful. Finally.”
“I never intended this to happen,” T. J. said.
“You’d better not hurt her.” Ross’s voice was rough.
“I promise you I won’t.”
Ross looked around, drawing a deep breath. “Am I interrupting a romantic dinner?”
“Not exactly,” Avery said.
“Sorta,” T. J. said.
Avery looked from one man to the other. “My father surprised me today, and we’re having a family celebration.” She could hardly wait to see her dad’s face when she slipped him the money from the Broussard check. It would go a long way to help Angel’s aunt raise her.
“How about joining us?” T. J. asked.
Ross looked first at Avery and then at T. J. “I don’t think so, but the store looks great.” He picked up a praline and studied it. “This corner changed in a hurry.”
“I’m working with Camille and the gallery to bring Trumpet and Vine back to life. We’re applying for a grant. There’s hope here.”
“Avery’s serious,” T. J. said. “She’s considering running for city council.”
Ross’s eyes widened. “I guess you’ve decided to get out from behind the counter.” He gave a slight smile.
“I guess I have.”
“Well . . .” Ross shuffled his loafers on the floor. “I promised the folks I’d have dinner with them at the Samford Club. We’ll visit another time.”
When Ross walked through the door, the screen creaked. The sight of his back left a hollow feeling in her stomach.
But then she turned to T. J., and her heart felt as if it might pop.
“Are you okay?” He drew her up against his chest.
She nodded, rubbing her cheek against his shirt. “I’m good.”
T. J. pulled back. “I brought you a belated birthday gift.” He pulled a small package from his jacket pocket. “Bud made it.”
Her hands trembling, she pulled out a carving of a dog. “It’s Fearless,” she gasped.
“Does it look like him? I asked Bud to make his ears extra pointy.”
“It’s exactly like him.” Tears blurred her eyes.
T. J. bent to kiss her, and she leaned in, one high heel off the floor.
As they pulled apart, slowly, she opened her eyes a slit and looked over at the biscuit case.
New mercies. God’s compassions never fail.
The traffic signal flashed through the display window, and Avery snuggled against T. J. New mercies were ahead.
At this corner.
Her future beckoned. A store of her own. Kathleen’s friendship. A chance to help others.
And this man, solid and warm.
With delight, she lifted her face to meet his lips once more.