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“What do you mean stopped?”
As we pass them, I politely smile at the couple with the dog. “I stopped working. Stopped chasing.”
“You’re jobless?” She laughs like it’s ridiculous.
“I am.”
She hums for a few seconds, her head bowed and her hands in her pockets. “What do you do all day?”
“I contemplate life, but I’m thinking of finding a hobby. Do you think my hands are too big for knitting?” I hold out my hands in front of me, fingers spread wide. “Curling has always intrigued me. If it’s good enough for the Olympics, surely it’s a challenging hobby.”
“Ha! I’d pay money to see you in a curling club.” She nods to the right.
I open the door to the bustling restaurant, catching an immediate aroma of herbs and something sweet like a fruit pie.
She steps inside. “Table for two?”
“I can seat you at the bar.”
Scottie eyes me.
“I’m good with that,” I say over the woman on the corner stage with a guitar singing “Stay.”
We’re seated at the bar at a ninety-degree angle to each other. The shaven-headed waiter hands us menus and begins his spiel about tonight’s specials.
“I’ll have the hot bourbon apple cider and the falafel wrap,” Scottie says.
I quickly scan the menu. “I’ll have the warm veggie salad, and water is great.”
As I hand him the menu, Scottie gives me another wide-eyed look. “If you’re trying to impress me, don’t. I plan on getting dessert.”
Inspecting the dimly lit restaurant with candles on the tables and walls of hanging plants, I grin. “I promise I’m not trying to impress you.”
“Did you have bypass surgery? A near-death experience?”
My gaze returns to her. She’s never looked more beautiful. “No bypass. No near-death experience. It’s time I take my life and my health more seriously.”
The bartender delivers my water and her spiked cider.
Something flits across her face, making her smile falter for a second. She just as quickly recovers. “Kudos on taking care of your health, but never take life too seriously.” She winks.
“True.” I laugh. “Tell me about your life. You own a general store. That Airstream is in great condition. And you haven’t aged a bit. Well done, you.”
Scottie smirks after sipping her drink. “I’m an overworked, underpaid employee at the general store I don’t own. And speaking of not owning things, the same couple who own the store also own that vintage Airstream. However, that rusty truck is all mine.”
“But you’re happy.” I cross my arms on the bar.
She doesn’t have to answer. I already know she’s happy. It’s why I’m here. People like Scottie don’t need to search forhappiness. They are the happiness that everyone around them desperately wants to experience.
“I am.” She cups her mug with both hands, eyeing the rising steam for a second. “I’ve been here for ten years and love it here. I have a satisfying job, as simple as it is. Some people think Austin is pretentious. But I adore the kind of people who shop at a general store—kind people who appreciate simple things and a simple life. They don’t haggle over prices and appreciate local goods and the people who make them.”
This woman doesn’t disappoint.
“That’s great, Scottie. Really. I’m not surprised you’ve stayed true to what matters in life.”
She eyes me as if she’s weighing my sincerity. “Thanks.”
“Is it a fair assumption that you’re not married? No kids? And yes, I’m assuming because your residence is rather small.”
