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ADAM
“You and Brooke.It’s really nothing?” Why did I interrupt a perfectly comfortable, conversationless trip back to Deacon’s with a question like that?
“Yes.” Deacon didn’t hesitate. “I fully expect she’s spending her nights sifting through countless suitors, and I hope she’s finding at least one or two she can swipe right on. She deserves a happily ever after. She deserves a lot more than I’m offering.”
That was a lengthy answer, but it didn’t matter because it didn’t impact me either way. “Okay.”
A loose thought, related but just out of my grasp, floated at the edges of my mind. I tried to reach it, but it kept slipping away just as I got close.
My therapist could probably drag the reality out of me, but some days being analyzed and picked apart was draining. My mother had walked out on my father because they’d lied to themselves and each other about wanting the same things from their futures, and she finally admitted it when Baby Adam arrived.
This wasn’t the same at all. It was the opposite of a relationship. Besides Deacon and Brooke were adults who could make their own decisions, but I didn’t want to see either of them hurt.
When we got to the antique shop, Deacon and I spent the next few hours unloading the truck and making sure the basement was set for work tomorrow morning. We wrapped up and he stopped to clear out the store’s voicemail. There were several more people asking about the things from the video.
He asked me to change the message to let people know nothing was currently available, but there would be more soon, and he returned calls to tell them the same thing.
I finished before he did, and was waiting to see if he needed anything else when the shop phone rang. “Deacon’s Derelicts and D’Art,” I answered.
“Hi. I’m looking for the guy who posted the video about your shop last night?”
I doubted he really wanted to talk to me, but I was happy to field any questions I could about the new pieces. “That’s me.”
“Hey. It’s Adam, right? This is Sebastian from down the street.”
“The new age tea shop, right? Hey. If you have questions about the furniture, Deacon can answer them better than me, but he’d probably give you a first look.”
Deacon glanced at me at the mention of his name, but went back to his call.
“I’m actually looking for you,” Sebastian said. “I have a few high-end pieces here that are really more to draw attention than to sell, though I wouldn’t mind if someone paid for them. Would you be up for doing a similar video for me?”
That sounded cool. “Sure. I can’t guarantee you’ll get the same kinds of hits as the secret sex dungeon, but I’d be happy to.”
“I’ve got crystals that are supposed to cure impotency, and others that are dildos, how’s that for a draw?”
It was pretty good. We set up a time for me to head over on Sunday, and hung up.
Too cool. I should see if Aubrey was interested in the same. Maybe a few more of the shops on the block. Make an entire series that extended beyond Deacon’s, though the antique shop would have to stay the focus overall.
This was going to be fun.
* * *
Brooke showedup in the morning an hour before we opened, coffee in one hand and box of pastries in the other. “I thought we might need brain food today.”
“You’re a genius. And an angel. A beautiful genius angel.” I took the box from her, grabbed a cheese Danish, and set the rest on the counter. “I didn’t expect you so early. Deacon just got up.”
“The kids dropped me off on the way to school, but I couldn’t sit at the coffee shop any longer. I need to be doing something.”
“You’re off to a great start.” I grabbed another pastry and nodded toward the back room. “Do you want to head down there and get started?”
Her phone rang, and she glanced at the screen. “It’s Paige. Hang on.” She answered. “Hey. Shouldn’t you be in second period?… That’s fantastic, great job… Yeah, hang on.” She held the phone out. “She wants to talk to you.”
And here I was double fisting pastries like a five year old. I held up my full hands with a wince.
Brooke laughed and pressed the phone to my ear.
“Hello,” I said.
