he had jolly holiday music playing fairly loudly through the speakers.
I perused up one aisle and down another while he shadowed me. The labels Rhonda mentioned were no longer on the shelves, but I’d since heard from several other sources that they were there all day the Saturday after Black Friday.
It didn’t matter.
“How did I put you out of business?”
“By coming to Epperly.” I shrugged, keeping my distance and my back to him while pretending to be interested in all the unique items on his displays.
“Does Epperly not support a free market? You have more than one bank and grocery store.”
Two.
We had two banks and two grocery stores. A third bank or a third grocery store would not have survived. Well, the new one might have, but one of the other ones would have had to close its doors. Banks and grocery stores were essential businesses. Specialty food stores were not. One was enough, and outside of the holiday season, one specialty food store was too much.
“I didn’t say you did anything wrong. It’s a free market. You had every right to start up a business here. But it doesn’t change the facts.”
“Which are?”
I stopped at the end of an aisle and turned toward him, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m closing the doors to Smith’s for good at the end of the year.”
“Because of me?”
I nodded.
“Elsie …”
“Don’t apologize. Don’t give me the business is business speech. I don’t want to hear it. I’m not even mad.”
I was a little mad. At whom? I wasn’t sure.
Myself?
Craig?
Kael?
Customers?
I felt numb. Maybe it was the anniversary of Craig’s death approaching. In so many ways, I felt just as lost and trapped as I did a year earlier. Another tiny rock in my shoe that I couldn’t ignore any longer. It made me angry, irritated, and a little reckless.
“I don’t know what to say.”
I shook my head. “There’s nothing to say. You should be proud. Victorious. You’ll do well. Everyone loves you and your store the way they loved my husband and his family’s store for so many years. And if you stick around long enough, some young asshole with a fresh idea will move into town and force you to close your doors. Think of it as the circle of life in the business world.”
“Young asshole. Is that what I am to you?”
“To Mrs. Smith, shop owner. Yes. You are. To me, Elsie … you’re my sex toy.” That felt victorious.
That look on his face. After years of watching men put women in their place—in Epperly that meant barefoot, pregnant, and rubbing a pot roast—it felt slightly gratifying to be the one doing the objectifying.
I expected the same grin as the first time he heard me call him a sex toy. No such luck.
“Well …” He glanced toward the kitchen, but not as if anything in that direction had his focus—more like he just didn’t want to look at me. “I’m truly sorry for Mrs. Smith. My intention was never to run anyone out of business. As for Elsie, I’m happy I can scratch her itch and entertain her needs.” He sounded anything but happy.
That victorious gratification began to burn out like a fire without oxygen. “It’s what you wanted too. Right?”
He grunted a laugh and faked the worst smile ever as he nodded slowly, bringing his attention back to me. “For you to scratch an itch?”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
Four kids and twenty-two years of marriage made me a good reader of people. Except Kael. I couldn’t read him. Or maybe I could, but I was too afraid to see something that either wasn’t really there … or worse … that was there.
“Sure.”
Terrible answer. I hated sure. It meant anything but sure. The only word more aggravating than “sure” was “whatever.” Two of the most dismissive words in the English language. I was at a loss for words, but I refused to fill the space or say something as awful as “sure” or “whatever” just to appease the person in front of me.
“Don’t say that.”
His lower teeth scraped his upper lip a few times. “Say what?”
“Sure. Don’t say ‘sure' and don’t say ‘whatever.’ Say nothing or say everything. I can’t handle vagueness. I can’t handle you communicating … or lack thereof … like my husband. Don’t fill space with but-uh. Don’t say ‘you know’ because you’re too lazy or impatient to finish your thoughts. I don’t know.”
He glanced at his watch. “I’m going to go with saying nothing then because I don’t have