Unexpected Reunion. Carolyn Greene

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СКАЧАТЬ sense, of course, but it was only after seeing his reaction that she realized her words could be taken a different way.

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

      “It’s okay,” he said with a forced smile. “Maybe we could call them rules of disengagement.”

      The joke wasn’t funny, so she didn’t laugh.

      The door opened, and a stylish young mother with a baby in a stroller entered the building. The woman spotted the Gleanings sign over the counter and headed toward the shop to browse.

      “Feel free to look around,” Ruthie told her. “And let me know if you have any questions.”

      Gray’s expression quickly changed to one of relief. “Here it is. Pop’s Korean War stuff.”

      “That’s great.” Ruthie bent to look at the assortment of papers, medals, photos and sentimental trinkets. “We get history hunters in here all the time. Pop would be heartbroken if we’d sold all those memories.”

      He closed the box flaps. “Thanks. For this,” he said, gesturing toward the mementos. “For everything.”

      At her questioning glance, he added, “For being there for Pop and Sobo while I was away.”

      “Your parents were there for them,” she said, deflecting his praise. “They looked after them.”

      “Yes, but you gave Sobo and Pop someone other than me to focus on. You made a difficult time in their lives a little more tolerable.”

      She shook off his thanks. “They’ve been there for me more than I was for them. I don’t know what I would have done—where I would have gone—if they hadn’t stepped in when I needed help most.”

      Gray’s expression took on a faraway look. Was he thinking of God—who he’d said wasn’t there when he’d needed help most?

      He tucked the box of Pop’s treasures under one arm and laid some bills on the counter. Then he moved the small, round table closer to the door. “I’ll take the table, too. Is this enough to cover it?”

      “Way too much. You could buy a new one for less.” She wondered if the table had stirred memories for him as it had for her.

      He must have read her mind. “There’s a bare spot in the corner of my kitchen. This should fit just about right.” With the box still tucked under his arm, he picked up the table with the other hand and moved toward the door. He stopped and turned back to her. “Don’t tell Pop and Sobo I bought it, or they’ll try to pay me back.”

      “Let me give you a hand.”

      Either the box or the table alone would have been manageable, but the weight of both was clearly an effort for him. She came from around the counter, but he hefted the table closer.

      “Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

      With a resigned sigh, Ruthie stood back and watched him struggle through the door, determined to carry his burden alone.

      * * *

      The fire at Milk & Honey was nearly forgotten when the lunch crowd poured in. By that afternoon, Savannah had sold a vintage dress to a teen for her upcoming prom, and Nikki, who helped run the shop next door and who they hoped would be a future partner at Abundance someday, had taken apart an antique typewriter to repair and restore.

      Whenever Ruthie thought about how Abundance and the individual shops within it came to be, she thanked God for bringing together the original three talented friends who, each in her own way, loved to find interesting articles and offer them for sale, and then adding a fourth to the mix. She sometimes laughingly called Savannah and Paisley her “Craigslist friends,” since it had been an online ad seeking roommates that had brought them together in the first place. Then, after moving into their Abundance shops, they’d been blessed to meet Nikki, who worked next door.

      The college years had been lean for the three friends, so they’d sought to decorate the rented house with flea market and thrift-store finds. Ruthie started them off with unusual pieces of antique furniture hidden under ugly coats of paint or dulled varnish, which she refinished and made to look like new. Savannah found lovely old tablecloths, bedspreads and dresses that showed small signs of wear and fashioned them into beautiful curtains fit for a showroom. And Paisley, with her penchant for food and hospitality, supplied fancy plates and introduced the group to the likes of tea infusers, egg-poaching cups and soup tureens.

      Visitors were always astonished to see how stylish they’d made the place look with little or no money. Soon friends, family and acquaintances were asking the threesome to find specific items, and before long their individual hobbies had grown into businesses that helped pay for their college expenses. This was a blessing, especially since Ruthie wanted to pay her own way and avoid drawing further on the Bristows’ kindness after all they’d done for her over the years.

      After graduation, the three friends decided to combine their businesses under a single roof they called Abundance. The exception was Nikki, who worked next door at the Carytown shoe repair shop, called Restore My Sole. When the ancient owner, Jericho Jones, discovered her talent for fixing things, he began accepting repair jobs for small items and gave the tasks to her to complete. And when the space next door became available for rent just before the others’ college graduation, Nikki became an unofficial fourth member of the Abundance friendship. Nikki’s loyalty to Jericho kept her working for him, but they used the connecting door between the stores whenever the Abundance shop owners needed their friend’s skills to restore acquired treasures prior to sale.

      Between waiting on customers, Ruthie tackled the remaining boxes from the Bristows and kept an eye open for any other war memorabilia that might have made their way into the wrong place. To her delight, and especially Savannah’s, one of the boxes contained several ladies’ hats that appeared to be from the early sixties.

      “I need your help pricing them,” Ruthie said after she’d taken the find over to Connecting Threads.

      Her friend turned them over and checked for a label. She gasped. “These were made by the Hat Factory down in Shockoe Slip. Back in their heyday, before the factory went out of business, it was the local place for ladies to buy hats. You shouldn’t have any trouble finding buyers for these.”

      Judging by the way Savannah practically drooled over them, Ruthie wouldn’t be surprised if her friend bought one herself.

      Savannah’s fingers followed the loose band of a particularly pretty go-to-church hat, and she twisted her lips into a slight frown. “The puggaree is loose. I’ll fix it for you so no one will have any reason to turn this beauty down.” Savannah perched the hat on her head and peered into the floor mirror. With a hand on her hip and a point of the toe, she struck a saucy pose. “Mrs. Bristow sure had good taste.”

      Ruthie agreed. “Pop said that shortly after he brought her here from Tokyo, she studied fashion magazines and bought American clothes to try to fit in.” Naoko had even adopted her husband’s faith as her own and now hated to miss a single Sunday at church. “She still looks stylin’, even when she’s just puttering around the house.”

      “You’d never guess she’s pushing eighty.”

      Savannah set the hat with the loose band on top of her sewing pile, then helped Ruthie tag the remaining hats with prices that should be high СКАЧАТЬ