Page 39 of The Grump I Got Stuck With

“The interwoven design symbolizes eternity and connection.”

“A connection? Well, that feels just right,” Alistair said. He took the earrings, holding them up to the side of my face. He reached out with his other hand, tucking my hair behind my ear to see how they looked. There was no hiding the blush this time. I knew he could see the pink spreading across both cheekbones and probably right over the bridge of my nose. He was so close, the space between us crackling with such heat, I couldn’t even blame it on the cold. “You did say you were looking for connection, didn’t you?”

I nodded.

“Well,” he said, the minty warmth of his breath ghosting across my face. “Maybe these will bring you some good luck in that department.” He glanced at the vendor, and I could finally breathe again. “We’ll take both of these, please.”

While she carefully folded the pieces into tissue paper, I watched the way the nearby vendors chatted, laughing and smiling like old friends. Perhaps they were old friends. Everyone was local, if not from Braeburn itself then from one of the nearby towns. The sense of community was strong, and I was glad Alistair was supporting a local business. “You know,” I said, “maybe you should stop investing in random projects on the other side of the world and invest more in businesses like these.”

His lips twisted in amusement. “How do you know my businesses are on the other side of the world?”

“Pretty sure you were up yapping with someone from Singapore the other night,” I said. The vendor handed me a brown paper bag stamped with her business name—Highland Silver Co. I thanked her and followed Alistair down the road. “Seriously, though. This stuff is so special. It needs support more than whatever the latest time-wasting app is.”

Alistair shrugged off the suggestion. “Maybe someday I’ll look at more grassroots investing, but for now, supporting local vendors isn’t going to make the splash I need.”

“It would make a splash for this community,” I pointed out.

“True. But no one in London cares much about what goes on in Braeburn.”

“True,” I admitted. It didn’t seem healthy to worry so much about what London thought, especially after the way he’d been treated there, but all the same, I understood that was exactly why it was important to him. He had something to prove, and after everything the guy had experienced, he deserved to stick it to them all. But if Braeburn was where he was going to settle, where Kenna was going to grow up, wasn’t that worth investing in too?

I stopped short, my eyes drawn to a booth with handmade blown-glass items, instantly reminded of the pieces my birth mother had left me.

“See something else you like?” Alistair asked.

“Can we take a look here quickly?” I was already walking over to the booth before Alistair could respond, finding a woman seated behind a table of delicate glass baubles, each one unique in shape and color. Some of them would have made lovely Christmas ornaments, others were the kinds of things that could be displayed year-round.

“These are beautiful,” I told her.

Her smile lines ran deep, her face weathered by age. Curls of gray had begun at her temples. She must have been in her mid-sixties if I were to guess.

I picked up her business card. “Lesley Ferguson. Oh, you’ve got a shop here in Braeburn?” I said, spotting her business address.

She pointed down the road. “Aye, it’s a small studio where I do my hot glass and furnace work. Are you a fan of handblown glass?”

“Well, not exactly. I mean, I am, but it’s more of a recent discovery,” I explained. “I’ve recently learned that my mother—my birth mother—was a glass artist. She left me a few pieces when she passed away, and I’ve been trying to learn more about it ever since.”

“What was her name?” Lesley asked.

“Darlene MacLeod.”

Lesley’s eyes widened in recognition. “Ach, I heard Darlene had passed. I do believe you have her eyes. We actually ran into each other more than a few times at markets and craft fairs over the years.”

“You knew her?” I exclaimed, turning to Alistair, a smile lighting up my face.

“Wow,” he teased. “Those earrings worked fast.”

“Not well,” Lesley admitted. “Just to say hello to, really. I remember she was always very lively. Like a ball of sunshine.”

Alistair smirked, glancing at me.

“And her glassworks were beautiful. She was very skilled at crafting animals. Sea creatures, especially. She loved those.”

“That’s one of the things she left me!” I said. “A small glass dolphin.”

“Scotland’s one of the best places in Europe to see wild dolphins.”

“I didn’t know that,” I gushed. I knew Lesley couldn’t give me a ton of insight into my mother’s life, nor did I expect her to. But this small connection was more than I’d been able to achieve in months, and relief uncoiled in my chest.