simple kiss that ended too soon for me. I was hungry.
An odd word to use but true. I’d wanted to do so much more with Darryl. Wanted to climb between some sheets naked and go to town.
It was embarrassing and hot at the same time. If only his phone hadn’t gone off. Emergency at the gas station.
He’d had to leave.
I’d seen him to the door then practically raced to my room, where I masturbated twice, thinking about him. Shocking and fun. I’d not had that many orgasms in years. Decades even. Had I finally entered my sexual peak? I really shouldn’t waste it.
Maybe on my lunch break I’d pop over to see Darryl. This was, after all, not the eighties and nineties anymore. A woman didn’t have to wait for a man to make the moves.
And I was ready to move. It had been years since I’d had sex. My now-dead husband had lost interest. In me at any rate. Apparently, he had no problem with his girlfriend.
Ugh. It was a kick to the teeth. But I was stronger now. Desired by a handsome man. I needed to carve some alone time for him.
I parked in the alley behind my shop, leaving the on-street spaces for shoppers. Of late, it seemed there were more and more people in town. Signs of life were everywhere. A steady flow of cars rolled up and down the main street. The café where I used to work, Maddy’s Family Diner, busted at the seams. It was so busy that Orville, the owner, had to hire a few more waitresses to help out. Marjorie, who still worked there, said the tips had never been better. What no one seemed to question was where all these strangers came from. They took over the houses and businesses bought up by the huge giant of a company, Airgeadsféar. They’d even tried to buy my grandma’s cottage. I’d refused, and then I’d snatched up a shop from under them. Yay for me.
It appeared to be a sound investment, as the dusty town found itself revived by the newly repurposed mill. I profited. Before Christmas, a steady stream of people discovered my eclectic wares. Antiques and oddities, some of the goodies I sold I’d found scattered around my cottage, making me wonder how long the house could keep coughing up antiques. Other items I sold on consignment for Darryl. Did he really need to clean out his house, or was it an excuse to see me?
Maybe a bit of both. But I had to keep in mind the steady flow of merchandise wouldn’t last. I needed other sources. On my list was attending estate sales and auctions to widen my offerings and have a legal paper trail in case I got audited.
As I entered from the back, I flipped on switches. The filtered daylight didn’t take away all the gloom. I walked right to the front and unlocked the store, getting a strange satisfaction in flipping the sign from closed to open. A peek onto the street showed the bookstore across from me already had its sign on the sidewalk announcing a BOGO—buy one get one—on all their books. The flower shop adjacent had colorful arrangements in the window and was already serving customers. Those walking the sidewalk seemed undaunted by the chill of winter. It was a like a throwback to the images of the perfect town in the 1950s.
Some of that traffic came to see me. I sold enough that morning to ensure the electricity got paid for the next month. Around lunchtime, I got hungry. I had a sign for that, too. Out for lunch, back by one. The one being chalked in by me.
Just as I was about lock up and track down Darryl, the door opened, and a woman entered. She was older than me, I’d wager, with her paper-thin skin and wrinkles tugging parts of her face. Elegant, with her hair pulled back, makeup perfect from her lightly pink cheeks to subtle eye shadow and mascara. Perfectly dressed, her pencil skirt past her knees and a somber gray. Her jacket tightly tailored and threaded with some mauve. It matched the frothy lace emerging from her neckline.
Guess I’d be delaying my lunch—and possible kisses with Darryl—for a few more minutes. “Hello and welcome to On My Way.”
The icy gaze took me in. Up. Down. Disdain clear as she said, “So you’re the whore dabbling with my son.”
3
As statements went, that caught my attention.
“Excuse me? I