I keep replaying last night in my mind as I’m sitting at my desk alone in the shop staring out the window. I see us setting up for the event, Danny making me feel confident about giving my talk, seeing him beam at me during my lecture. Feeling so comfortable with him that I just opened up and told him things I don’t really tell anyone. But it’s not even what I said. It’s how he made me feel.
I can’t stop thinking about it all—the snow, the hot cocoa and the moon illuminating the whole town as we sat on the bench next to each other.
Finally, the kiss.
I bring my fingers to my lips. I can still feel how his mouth felt on mine and how his scruffy beard rubbed against my cheeks. The snow from last night has settled and a sharp wind is making its way through the streets and alleys of New Hope. My mind was so preoccupied with going over the details from last night that I barely felt the cold as I walked across the bridge this morning to the store. Then a gust of wind attacked my exposed skin and boom, I remembered the humiliation of him jumping up, away from me.
I get up and head to the pantry when I notice that there are four blue creatures sitting on a shelf next to my garniture—an urn, matching candlesticks and elegant castor set in crystal. At first it makes me giggle to see the little creatures mixed with my pieces. They must have gotten mixed on my side when we were cleaning up last night. My smile grows until I remember how it felt when Danny ripped his lips away from mine and my smile vanishes. It’s replaced by the attitude I usually show the world—reserved and in control.
I’ve worked very hard to make sure my displays are perfectly arranged; the last thing I want is some of Danny’s toys mixed with my merchandise. I walk over to the shelf and pick one up. This particular blue elf is brushing his teeth, the toothbrush up to his mouth and a tube of toothpaste that he has squeezed hard enough for the paste to wriggle out of the top in his hand. I can’t help but smile. It’s so silly and overdone and childish. It looks ridiculous next to the sleek crystal bottle in the castor set which is also overdone but in a much more serious and somewhat maudlin way. Seeing the two together makes me think how Danny would appreciate this and that makes me laugh out loud.
“What’s so funny?” I hear Danny ask as he walks in the store. Just seeing him again makes me want to run over and give that kiss a second try but my brain steps in and tells me that he’s already rejected me once and that’s more than enough. I won’t humiliate myself again. “Nothing,” I say sharply, putting the figure down.
“Hey, is that Toothy? What’s he doing over there?” he asks, his big smile brightening the room in a way that I can’t deny. He wants to pretend like last night didn’t happen? Fine. I can do that as well.
“That’s an excellent question,” I say with a tone sharper than the spires of Notre Dame. “What is your merchandise doing on my side of the shop? We’ve made very clear rules about who is responsible for which displays. I kindly ask that you keep your toys on your side of the store. My customers do not want little blue men on their antiques.”
He walks over and grabs each of them. “I’ve told you before. They’re called Smurfs.”
“I don’t care what they’re called. I don’t want them over here,” I say, trying not to look at him.
He walks back to his side and then stops. “I thought you said you ordered more wood for the potbelly.” He looks at the small stack of remaining logs to the side of the stove.
I forgot to order wood but I’m not going to let him get the better of me. “We have enough to get through the end of the week. I’ll order it later.”
“It’s supposed to snow more. You know the truck they use to deliver the firewood won’t be able to get through the alley if it’s covered in snow,” he says taking one of the smaller logs and adding it to the fire I started when I walked in earlier.
“So what? We have a boiler and the tank has enough oil to get us through until summer if we need it.”
“That’s not the point. Why burn oil when we can use wood? It’s less expensive to use wood and you shouldn’t rely on fossil fuels. You should be thinking about that.”
“Should I? Do you think I’m not aware of my carbon footprint? I know exactly what I’m doing so thank you very much,” I snap at him. Just like that we are back to our old dynamic, whether we like it or not. It’s like last night was deleted from the timeline. I watch him take off his coat and as he pulls off his sweater the front edge rises up over his furry midsection and I know that last night happened because I’m feeling the same feeling I felt then. Still, I have to shut it off. In my head I pick up my sabre and shout, “En garde!”
“You always think you know better, don’t you,” Danny says his voice already louder than it should be.
I match his volume. “When I’m right, then yes. I do know better. Of course, you make it easy when you spout such nonsense.”
“Nonsense?” he shouts.
“You heard me,” I shout back and then we just start screaming at each other until the bells on the door chime.
Arthur walks in.
“I’d like to think the two of you would be celebrating last night’s success, but from the sound of things it seems like that’s not the case.”
Last night. A huge success followed by a devastating humiliation. I’m not sure if I can think of one without the other.
“What’s going on here?” Arthur asks.
“Oh, no big deal,” I say not wanting to let Arthur know that we have turned his sweet shop into a boxing ring.
“Actually,” Danny says before I can add anything else, “we were having a disagreement about ordering supplies for the shop. It seems someone forgot to place an order for firewood.”
I laugh through clenched teeth. “Oh, Danny. We’ve already gone over this. We don’t need firewood until next week.” My pleasant tone is as fake as the wax flowers he sells in old Coke bottles. “You need to keep your merchandise...”
“Stop it. The two of you can’t even agree on what you’re disagreeing about.”
Danny and I both lower our heads like schoolboys caught fighting in front of the headmaster. “I thought last night was a tremendous success. I had breakfast with Serilda and they are already operating with all pistons. Serilda has a phone call in to the mayor’s office.” Arthur smiles each time he says the name Serilda.
“You’ve already had breakfast with them this morning?” Danny says with a sly tone revealing that he might have the same suspicions I’ve been having about them being a couple.
“With Serilda?” I ask with a sly smile. “Who was looking absolutely lovely last night I might add.”
“Yes, they were in that cute little red parka with the trim.” Danny picks up my lead and goes with it. Why is it that when we are on the same path we sort of have this unspoken way of working together? We start asking Arthur a series of questions that make the skin behind his translucent gray beard just pink enough to let us know we are hitting the target.
Arthur can’t help but release a tight smile. “I did not come in here to be interrogated by the two of you. I came here to update you on the delivery van. There was a small problem with the suspension but the mechanic promises me that it’s as good as new now. I have it parked in the spot around the corner in case you need it.”
“That’s perfect,” I say. “I need it this weekend.”
Danny walks over to me and says, “Ah, not so perfect and not so fast. I need the van this weekend too.”
Far in the distance I swear I can hear the echoey whistles and reverberating brass of the theme song from some classic cowboy Western. I’m ready for a shootout.
“I’ve had this weekend on my calendar for months,” I say. “I need the van. The St. Stanislaw Church Rummage Sale only comes once a year. I always get some major pieces and the elders make me a special order of pierogi, not to mention the pastries. I’m not missing it.”
“A rummage sale? Are you kidding me?” Prescott asks. I’m growing to love watching his pupils flicker when he gets angry with me. I swear I get him going sometimes just to see the way it makes his eyes dance but I know making him angry is also a way of distancing us from any tender moment we may or may not have had last night. “This weekend is the McKinley estate sale at Brown Brothers. They’re auctioning off some of the finest items to be found this season on the entire Eastern Seaboard. I need to be there. They have a piece of Cunningham pewter that will complete my set. It raises the importance of my collection considerably.”
“Well, la di da,” I say putting my finger to my nose to raise the tip. “God forbid you don’t have a matched set.” I knew it. This guy is so obsessed with aesthetic uniformity. There’s no way we could ever make it as a couple. I don’t know what I was thinking.
“Do you see the vulgarity I have to endure, Arthur?” Prescott sighs dramatically.
“Do you see the snobbishness I put up with?”
“If only the two of you could see what I see,” Arthur mumbles as he rubs his face with his hands. “Wait, Danny, your rummage sale is in the morning, at St. Stanislaw?”
“Right,” I say nodding, but wondering what he has up his sleeve.
“And Prescott, Brown Brothers is doing the auction. They don’t usually start the smalls until after lunch if I recall,” Arthur says, clearly cooking up something in his head.
“Smalls?” Danny asks.
“Smalls refers to anything smaller than a biscuit box in the antiques trade,” Arthur explains.
“Oh, so my Smurfs would be smalls,” I say.
“The thought that those pieces of plastic would be part of any serious auction house’s collection is beyond ridiculous.”
“Prescott, please, I’m trying to find a solution,” Arthur says, stroking his beard.
“What scheme do you have in mind?” I ask.
“Well since the rummage sale is in the morning and the auction is in the afternoon you could simply share the van,” Arthur says matter-of-factly.
“But our events are in opposite directions. If I had to drive all the way back to New Hope just to hand off the van...” I start to say.
“...then I would never make it to the auction in time,” Prescott says completing my thought. The synchronism of the moment does not go unnoticed and it makes me melt a little inside. We are so often on the same path until one of us drives into a ditch.
Arthur takes off his gloves to warm his hands in front of the potbelly stove. He sighs, turns around to look at us both and says, “Precisely.”
“Arthur, if this is some reenactment of the judgment of Solomon and you plan to cut the van in half, don’t bother,” Prescott says.
Arthur laughs. “No nothing quite so dramatic. Prescott, you join Danny in the morning and then Danny, you join Prescott for the second half of the day. That way you don’t have to drive all the way back here. And as a bonus I will donate my time to watch the shop while you two are out picking.”
The whole day with Prescott? Avoiding the way his sapphire eyes narrow as he examines an antique? Ignoring how cute he looks when his bangs fall in front of his face and he gathers them with one hand before pushing them back? Making sure that no matter what we don’t have even an inch of physical contact? It’s not a day out with the van. It’s a game of Operation with little chance of the patient’s red-bulb nose not turning on.
“Absolutely not,” Prescott says.
I join the protest. “No way.”
Arthurs frowns and looks at us both. He puts his gloves back on and walks toward the door. “I guess you aren’t interested in bidding on the pewter from the Cunningham Studio that I know would complete your set. And Danny, I’m sure you can wait another year to get your special order of pierogi.”
I gasp. “Uncle Arthur, you’re not playing fair. You know I look forward to those pierogi more than my birthday.”
“I have wanted to get that piece of pewter in my collection for years.” Prescott’s voice goes up at the end and he looks at me and wriggles his nose.
“Then it’s settled. You will share the van,” Arthur declares although neither of us has exactly agreed to it.
Prescott shrugs and says, “Fine.”
“Fine,” I say knowing it’s impossible to argue with a man as sweet as Uncle Arthur.
“See what happens when the two of you work together?” Arthurs says. His face beams like a child who has just been told she can have cake for breakfast. “I’m leaving the keys here.” He puts them down on the table by the side of the door. “I hope you both find exactly what you need.” He walks out the door and waves his hand backward at us as he goes.
I look at Prescott. He looks at me. I pretend I have no idea what Arthur is talking about.