Page 84 of Forty and Fighting Dirty
The first thingI did was take a personal day on Monday. Rhett could wait to flex his muscles and try to kick me out of this house; I had things I needed to prepare first.
I dropped the boys off at school and watched them run inside, then headed across town to a little shopping area that had seen better days. The brick was drab, and the signs above each shop were faded and discolored. I saw a dry cleaner, a Chinese restaurant, a nail salon, and my destination: a tiny little hole-in-the-wall tech-repair shop.
The young woman behind the desk was familiar. After I handed over my phone, it took me a few seconds to place her, and then it came to me. “The raffle,” I said. “You were doing the computer stuff on the raffle night.”
“Sure was.” Her hazel eyes flicked up to mine. “Heard you and Rhett have been working hard on that house.”
My heart squeezed, but I smiled through it. “It’s come up real good. What about the phone?”
She looked at my broken screen dispassionately. “Shouldn’t be a problem,” she said. “Come back in an hour and I’ll have it fixed for you.”
“Thank you,” I said, glad that the first task in my plan had been so easy. I stepped outside, tugging my hat low over my ears against the sharp cold, thinking that moving to a little town of artists and eclectics in Northern California sounded pretty good right about now.
My gaze caught on the faded purple sign above the nail salon. It had been a long, long time since I’d indulged in a mani-pedi. While I was married, I had to justify every personal expense to Jacob. And after we divorced, my budget had been so tight that I hadn’t been able to bring myself to spend anything on luxuries like a beauty regimen.
The expense still made me pause, but I squared my shoulders and marched toward the salon. It was a personal day, after all, and I had an hour to kill. A golden cat figurine waved at me from the reception desk, and the woman behind it smiled as she greeted me.
An hour later, I’d had my hands and feet massaged, scrubbed, buffed, and polished. I steppedback out into the cold and went to collect my newly repaired phone. Feeling empowered, I walked back outside and made a slight deviation to my plan. Across the street was another business: Dave’s Moving Services.
A bell jingled as I stepped into an old but tidy storefront. Placards listing out moving-truck rental prices greeted me from the desk across the space. To my left, moving boxes had been taped up with another sign showing the price for each size.
“Be with you in a minute!” called a voice from beyond an open doorway behind the desk.
“Thanks!” I said, studying the price list, which had various sizes of trucks available for an hourly or daily rate. I didn’t see anything about moving across state lines; I might have to contact a bigger moving company for a quote.
Assuming Georgia would be willing to host me and the boys again. And assuming I could get them enrolled in Heart’s Cove Elementary midway through the year. And assuming a thousand other things?—
“Piper!”
I blinked as David—Santa Claus–looking David, who’d emceed the raffle—stepped through the door and took his place behind the desk. “Dave’s Moving Services,” I said, pointing to the logo at the top of the price list. “I should have put two and two together.”
“What can I do for you?” he asked with his usual jolly smile. “You’re not moving again, are you? I thought you just settled into your new house.”
“I did,” I answered, and my smile felt a little forced around the edges. “It’s looking like my plans are changing again. It’s abit of a long shot, but you wouldn’t be able to get my stuff from here to California, would you?”
“California?” He frowned sharply. “You’re leaving us?”
“I’m considering my options,” I said.
“That’s a real shame to hear,” David said, and I was surprised to hear that he sounded genuine. He sighed, fingers smoothing his mustache as he ambled over to the ancient computer on the end of the desk. “We only do truck rentals and packing services, so you’d have to drive the vehicle all the way there and all the way back. You’d be better off with one of the big national companies. I’ll print you off the contact details for the company I usually recommend.”
“Thank you.”
David handed me the sheet, warm from the printer, and gave me a sad smile. “You’ve done real good for this town in a short time, Piper. I’m sad to hear that you’re thinking of leaving. You seemed to be settling in so well.”
“I’ve loved my time here,” I admitted. To my horror, my eyes began to fill with tears. I smiled through the discomfort and shook my head. “I need to do what’s best for me and my boys, though.”
“Of course.”
“Thanks for this.” I lifted the sheet of paper and turned toward the door, then paused. “Hey, Dave?”
He arched his brows.
I lifted the sheet. “Anywhere I can print some documents in town? I don’t want to do it at work.”
The old man’s eyes seemed to see far more than I wanted. “I’ll print them for you. Email ’em through. It’s no problem.” Hepulled a business card from a small plastic tray and slid it across toward me.
My heart gave a squeeze. That was the thing about this town—people were willing to help all the time. There was a sense of community that I’d never experienced before. In my old town, I was Jacob’s wife first and foremost. My participation in the community always felt like it was through him. This was different. Throat tight, I nodded my thanks and emailed through the documents I needed to print.
