Leona pinched the bridge of her nose trying to ward off the headache that was starting as she stared at the computer screen.
She loved her business—everything about it even. But taxes made her consider closing the store and moving far away to a secluded island every single year.
Fiona poked her head through the door of the break room and Leona lifted her head from her computer.
“There’s a man out here who needs to talk to you.”
Leona lifted an eyebrow. “Tell me he’s an accountant and he’d love to do taxes for free.”
Fiona chuckled. “I don’t think so. He’s got on work boots.”
Crinkling up her nose, Leona set her pencil down on the notepad she’d scribbled a million numbers on, and stood.
She followed Fiona out to the store, which even on a Monday morning, was bustling.
“Can I help you?” Leona approached the man, not only in work boots, but faded jeans with a rip near the pocket and a dangling belt loop. He had on a Carhartt T-shirt, and a pair of work gloves hung from his back pocket.
“Jon Ford,” he said as if she’d asked his name. “We’re doing some work on the residences upstairs and they’re having some plumbing issues. We’re shutting off the water to the entire building.”
“Leona,” she added her name as he had done, unsolicited as well. “How long will that be for?”
“No idea, ma’am,” he said sternly, cocking his head to the side as he did so. “It’ll be off until we’re done.”
Leona bit the inside of her cheek when Jon Ford called her ma’am. But it was his tone when he said, until we’re done, that had heat rising beneath her skin.
“I don’t see that I have a choice.”
“Nope,” This time he cocked his head to the other side. “Just wanted you to know.”
“Do I need to do anything here in the store?” she asked.
“No. Guess you could fill some coffee pots or teacups,” he said chewing a piece of gum he must have had tucked in his cheek.
Leona flared her nostrils. “We’ll make sure to do that,” Leona snapped. “You’ll let us know when it’s turned back on?”
“If I remember.”
Leona drew in a breath. “Thank you, Mr. Ford.”
He nodded, still chewing that gum. “Yup.”
As he started for the door, it opened, and Sadie walked past him. She said hello, and Leona wondered if he just grunted in return.
“He’s cute,” Sadie said with a smile. “No, I’m not looking.”
Fiona laughed and headed back to her desk in the corner to write.
Sadie studied Leona. “Are you okay? You don’t look right.”
Leona lifted her hand to scratch her head, only to find a pencil stuck in her hair. She let out a groan. “I’m fine. I’ve just been working on taxes and it’s given me a headache.”
“I could make you some tea,” Sadie offered and the mention of it only intensified the headache.
“They’re turning off our water. The residences upstairs are having plumbing problems.”
Sadie nodded. “I could run down the street and get you a drink.”
Leona looked out the front window of her store and noticed that a large pickup truck with the name Ford Fix It on the door.
The headache throbbed behind Leona’s eyes and she pressed her fingers to her eyes.
“You know, I think I’ll walk down there myself and get something. The walk and the sunshine will do me good.” She turned and set the pencil she’d found in her hair, on the counter. “I’ll bring you and Fiona something back.”
“We’ll hold down the fort,” Sadie said as Leona pulled her small, beaded purse from under the counter and headed out the door.
Jon studied the board behind the counter at the coffee shop. Why was it that places like this had to make up names for everything? He’d had to search to find out that a Dirty Joe, was a regular cup of strong coffee, though he’d ask for a regular coffee, like he did every time he’d been there.
Charlie lifted his head from behind the partition on the other side of the counter and smiled. “Hey, Jon,” he said in that happy tone he seemed to always have. Jon envied that trait in the younger man. It certainly wasn’t one that Jon possessed.
“Hey, Charlie. How’s your grandmother?”
A smile formed on Charlie’s mouth. “She remembered me this morning. It’s a good day.”
“That’s good.”
“Regular coffee?” Charlie asked and Jon was grateful to not have asked for a Dirty Joe.
“Yeah. Make it as big as they come.”
Charlie nodded and took the money Jon fished from his pocket.
Jon moved to the end of the counter to wait.
“Hey, Leona,” he heard Charlie’s voice and Jon lifted his head to see the woman he’d just spoken to ordering drinks.
He scanned a look over her. Long flowing skirt, beaded necklaces that hung from her neck, and dangly earrings. She must have had thirty bracelets on her wrist and rings on most of her fingers.
From the color of her hair, with only a few strands of gray, and the lack of deep lines around her eyes—because he’d noticed—he figured they were close in age. His grandmother would say that the woman’s soul was old.
She paid for her drinks and moved to the end of the counter next to him.
“Hey,” he said drawing her attention to him.
There was no smile that came to her lips or lit in her eyes. Not that he expected anything different. He wasn’t much of a people person.
“Hello, Mr. Ford.”
She was polite, formal, and stiff.
His name was called and he reached for his drink. “See ya round, ma’am.” He gave her a nod and strode off.
Taking his gum out of his mouth, he tossed it into the trash can, and sipped his coffee.
Another truck pulled up and parked behind his in front of the bookstore—the plumber. Finally, he could get started on the job at hand. But that building was old, and he was afraid before they had it fixed, there would be more problems.