A Taste of Magic - By Tracy Madison Page 0,102

chores, maybe watch a movie or read a book. Not today. Today, I was going shopping.

I hated my furniture, but beyond that, I wanted the black gone. No wonder I’d been depressed for a year. I was living in an apartment of mourning.Brushing the crumbs from my morning toast off my hands, I considered hauling Maddie out of bed and insisting she come with me. But I sort of wanted to do this on my own. After the vision sequence with Marc, I was finally ready to move on. I didn’t need to see him now, and I didn’t need to hear an apology. Visualizing his regret was enough.

Yeah, I still needed to talk to Nate, but for some reason hesitated. If he wanted to talk to me, he knew where I lived, right? Right. Which meant, if I was honest with myself, he didn’t want to talk to me. I figured I’d focus on something I could do rather than on things I couldn’t. No matter how much it hurt.

After checking the Sunday advertisements, I mapped out my day. Several furniture shops were having spring sales. If I could save money and redecorate my apartment, even better.

I jotted a note for Grandma Verda, who was still spending the majority of her time with the recovering Vinny, grabbed my purse, locked my door, and then headed into the sunshine. Right away I realized filling my apartment with new furnishings wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d thought. Let me tell you, these furniture shops? Tons of choices for someone who didn’t really know what she wanted. Deciding to browse, my eyes scanned the store I was in.

“Excuse me,” I mumbled as I passed an older couple who were discussing the merits of a La-Z-Boy recliner.

The woman glanced up and smiled. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you think of this chair? We’re considering buying it for my granddaughter, but we’re not really sure if it’s young enough for her.”

Her striking white hair pulled at a memory, and I took a closer look as I answered. “It’s nice. But without knowing the décor of her home, it’s hard to say.”

The man said, “Sit down in it, will you? We’re getting too old to get in and out of chairs in public. We’ll embarrass ourselves.” He grinned. They seemed like a really sweet couple.

And then, I remembered who they were. The couple from Starbucks. The ones whose history Maddie and I tried to guess but who’d disappeared before I could ask. How weird was it seeing them again?

“Sure,” I answered. Sitting down in the chair, I pulled the leg-rest up and sighed. “Oh yeah, this is relaxing. Maybe I’ll consider buying one.”

“So if your grandmother purchased this for you as a wedding gift, would you be happy or annoyed?” the woman asked. “We’re not sure if she’ll think our tastes are too old for her.”

“Um. My grandmother? A chair would be great. It’s the snake I couldn’t handle.”

“Snake? How interesting,” the lady said with a smile. “I bet that’s a great story.”

I shuddered. “Not really. But she meant well. Your granddaughter is getting married?” I pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “I own a bakery that specializes in wedding cakes. If she hasn’t chosen anyone yet, have her come in.”

Accepting the card, the woman nodded. “Thank you. Could we have another, perhaps? So I can give one to her and keep one for myself?”

“Definitely.” I gave her another card. “Please feel free to give it to anyone you want.”

“Oh, it’s for us. We’re finally getting married. After twenty years together, we decided to make it legal,” she said with a nervous chuckle.

“Twenty years?” So Maddie and I were both wrong. Interesting. “That’s amazing. Congratulations!”

The old man’s eyes twinkled. “I asked her to marry me on our second date. It’s taken her this long to say yes.”

Her cheeks turning pink, the woman tucked both business cards into her purse. “Sometimes it takes a while,” she said softly. “But you waited for me, and I came to my senses.”

“You’re just stubborn,” the old man teased.

“Can I ask a question? If it’s too personal, I’ll understand.” At the woman’s nod, I continued. “Did you ever doubt in those twenty years that you were supposed to be together?”

“Oh no. I fell in love with him the moment I met him. Like a romance story.”

“Then why so long to get married?” I realized I was being rude, but I needed

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