Page 2 of The Charmed Friends of Trove Isle
“Donations mostly. Jo was a bit of a dumpster diver too,” Mr. Lyme admitted. “She’d wake up before the birds were even singing and go out looking for her treasures.”
Melody didn’t dare ask how he knew her great-aunt’s early morning habits. “Dumpster diving?”
He looked a little embarrassed on Jo’s behalf. “Going through other people’s trash. One man’s junk is another woman’s treasure. That’s what Jo loved to say,” he said with a deep belly laugh.
Melody could feel her expression tighten. She couldn’t help it. Between the smells and the idea that some of this stuff had come from the bottom of a dumpster, her senses were misfiring.
“I know it’s probably not your dream to own a place like this,” Mr. Lyme went on, “but breathing life into lost things was Jo’s passion.”
Melody felt the tickle of another cough threatening in the back of her throat. “I don’t understand. Why did Jo leave Hidden Treasures to me? Surely there were other more deserving people in Jo’s life.”
Mr. Lyme looked around. He wasn’t grimacing. Instead, his distant gaze appeared to be more of a walk down memory lane. “As you know, she didn’t have any living kids and was never married. Jo knew your father wouldn’t appreciate this place. That’s why she left Hidden Treasures to you.”
Melody wished she could say she felt appreciative. Right now, she was more overwhelmed with guilt and sadness. And disappointment. This store wasn’t at all what she’d imagined, and it certainly didn’t appear to be the answer to her prayers. She’d been hoping any inheritance would serve as a down payment for her own place in Charlotte, so that she could finally lay down roots somewhere. “I don’t live in Trove Isle anymore and I don’t plan to ever again,” she told the lawyer honestly.
“Oh, Jo knew that. She was a special woman, your great-aunt. She didn’t make this choice lightly.” He stepped up to a glass counter full of costume jewelry and laid his leather briefcase down. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Melody.” He pulled out a stack of paperwork and handed Melody a pen. “Just need your signature on a few lines to make this official.”
Melody’s breaths began to quicken. She rubbed a hand behind her neck. “What if I don’t sign the papers?” she asked, her chest feeling tight as a slow panic wrapped around her. This store suddenly seemed like a lot more responsibility and work than she’d bargained for. Maybe she didn’t want it after all. How much money could she even get from selling a place as run-down as this?
Mr. Lyme’s smile wobbled. “Why wouldn’t you sign?”
Heat torched her cheeks. “Well, I, um, I don’t know if there are expenses attached to this property. Will I owe money on it? I don’t have the means to pay any outstanding bills.” For many years after leaving the isle, Melody had barely been able to pay her own bills. But now she was doing well for herself. She lived in a modest one-bedroom apartment in Charlotte, paid her rent on time, and could afford to get her hair cut at a place that cost way too much. A cut was a cut, but her hair had never looked so stylish. It was worth every penny.
Melody wished she had more to her name, but she liked at least having a little more than enough, and she never wanted to find herself just scraping by again. Especially not over a musty thrift store that she didn’t even want—or deserve.
Mr. Lyme gave her a reassuring smile. “Jo owned this place free and clear. You’d be inheriting the shop and everything inside. You would need to cover the utilities and the annual taxes, of course, but that’s it.” He waved the pen in front of Melody again as he waited for her to move.
Finally, she took the pen, her hand slightly shaking, and she started signing until she got to the bottom of the stack. She didn’t give herself time to second-guess what she was getting herself into. She owed Jo at least this much.
“All right then. You are the new owner of Hidden Treasures Thrift Store,” Mr. Lyme said. “I know Jo would be relieved that this place is in your capable hands. I’m sure I’m not alone when I say I can’t wait to see what you do with this place.”
Do with the place? Other than sell it?
Melody cleared her throat, feeling another tickle that threatened to turn into a cough. “Thank you, Mr. Lyme.”
“You’re welcome. I’ve been waiting on you to return home, per Jo’s wishes. She didn’t want a funeral. Instead, she planned a celebration of life for herself.”
“Oh.” Some part of Melody had thought she’d missed Jo’s funeral. “When is the celebration?”
“This Friday night. It was Jo’s final wish that you’d attend.”
Melody really didn’t want to be thrown into a social event with the entire town. She was just hoping to get in and out and see as few people as she could get away with. But she couldn’t deny her great-aunt’s dying request. Jo had meant more to her than a distant relative. Once upon a time, Jo was as close as a mother to Melody. “Of course, I’ll try to attend.”Trybeing the operative word. If she could come up with a decent excuse not to, she’d choose that route. Saying goodbye was a personal thing. Melody didn’t need to do it with a group of people whom she hadn’t seen in ages. Or worse, strangers.
“Good.” Mr. Lyme seemed to exhale as if he’d been worried that she’d refuse. “It’s going to be at Sunrise Park.”
“The park?” That was an odd place to hold a celebration of life.
“Right on the water,” Mr. Lyme confirmed as if the detail made perfect sense. “I’ll see you there,” he said as he walked back to the door.
Melody followed him. Once he was gone, she turned and inspected the somewhat claustrophobic space, all her hopes crashing down around her. What was she going to do with a thrift store? It wasn’t even the high-end kind. This place was messy, unorganized, and quite possibly a safety hazard.
Melody walked the aisles, tried not to breathe, and avoided touching anything. Finally, she ended up at the glass case where the register sat. She peered down at a display of costume jewelry. Some of it was surprisingly kind of fun. In the far corner was a handwritten sign in Jo’s looping penmanship: NOT FOR PURCHASE. That was odd. Why display something in a secondhand store that wasn’t available to buy?
She inspected the items more closely. There was a crystal frame with a baby picture inside. Melody didn’t immediately recognize the baby, but she guessed it might have been Jo’s son who’d passed away when he was less than a year old. Next was a pink cameo broach that Melody vaguely recalled Jo wearing to special events. It clashed with her favorite lime-green pantsuit. The last item made Melody suck in a startled breath, forgetting momentarily that she was trying not to breathe in too deeply.
There, on a plastic jewelry display, was a charm bracelet that looked impossibly familiar. The piece was a mixture of rose, yellow, and white gold, braided together loosely like the one she and her friends had once shared. Except the bracelet she remembered only held one heart-shaped friendship charm. This one held several charms.
Melody blinked the sting from her eyes. There was no way that this was the same bracelet Alyssa had gifted their little quartet of friends right before high school graduation. Once upon a prom night, that charm bracelet was lost in a car accident—along with so much more.
