Page 3 of Almost Ours
A hardware store with tools and shovels displayed in the window stood beside a little boutique calledStitch & Thread, its display bursting with knitted hats and scarves. Across the street, a small bookstore caught my eye–shelves stacked with books visible through frosted glass, a plump orange tabby curled in the window, its striped tail flicking lazily. Connor pointed to it and grinned.
He darted ahead, boots kicking up powder. I kept close, scanning the other storefronts. We walked past a florist’s shop strung out with evergreen garlands and dried orange slices that gave off a faint citrus scent. Across the street, a barbershop’s red-and-white pole spun slowly. A cafe sent smoke curling from its chimney. Farther down, the small movie theatre’s marquee announcedThe Nightmare Before Christmas.
No children played nearby–just the stillness of a Tuesday morning in a small town. The snow-muted street was nearly silent, save for the soft crunch of our boots. Though I could imagine it: laughter echoing, snowballs flying, forts rising.
That’s what Connor deserves, I thought.A real childhood.
I forced the ache in my chest aside and hurried after him.
We walked slowly, the cold nipping at our cheeks, however the scenery was too inviting to rush past. Connor hopped ahead, pausing every few steps to inspect the pristine snowbanks.
“Mom, we’ve never had snow like this before! This is the perfect snow for a fort!” he called, his voice bubbling with excitement.
“We’ll try after lunch,” I said, smiling as he darted forward again. His joy filled my chest with warmth… and a thin thread of worry.
Connor slowed, glancing back with a thoughtful expression. “Do you think we’ll stay here for a long time?”
The question caught me off guard. I knew what he was really asking:Are we going back to Dad?
I closed the distance, brushing snow from his shoulder. “Why do you ask buddy?”
“I like it here. It feels… better.” His voice wavered slightly, vulnerable. “Plus, I always wanted to live somewhere with so much snow!”
I knelt to his level, pulling his hat over his ears again. “I like it too. And I promise I’m going to do everything I can to find us a place where we can be happy.”
His brow furrowed. “You promise?”
“I promise,” I said, my voice steady despite the lump in my throat.
He nodded solemnly, as if sealing a pact, then grinned. “Okay. Let’s build the biggest snow fort ever after lunch!”
I laughed softly, ruffling his hair. “Deal.”
He took off running again, and I stood, exhaling a breath.
The smell of something sweet and freshly baked drifted toward us, stopping me in my tracks. I turned toward a small bakery, its frosted windows glowing with warm light. A chalkboard sign out front read:Hot Cocoa & Cinnamon Rolls–Fresh Today!
Connor was already heading for the door. “Can we go in, Mom? Please?”
I hesitated, fingers brushing the near-empty wallet in my pocket. I hadn’t budgeted for treats. I hadn’t even figured out how we’d get through the month. But I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
“Let’s just look, okay?”
He grinned and pulled the door open, the little bell above jingling as we stepped inside.
Warmth wrapped around us. The smell of cinnamon and sugar made my stomach growl. The bakery was cozy, with mismatched furniture and old black-and-white photos of the town lining on the walls. A man stood behind the counter, silver streaks running through his dark hair, flour dusting his hands and apron.
He looked up, his face breaking into a kind smile–and for a moment, I was struck by the warm brown eyes that crinkled at the corners.
“Morning!” he called out. “Are you two enjoying the first snowfall of the season?”
Connor nodded eagerly, his gaze fixed on the pastry display.
“Haven’t seen you in here before.”
My shoulders tensed. I scanned the room–people chatting at small tables, steam curling from mugs, laughter bubbling in the corner. No one was paying us any attention, but my grip on my bag tightened.
“We’re new to town,” I said evenly.
