Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“Okay.”
“How about we go to bed?”
“Can Mia sleep with us?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, she can. For tonight. I don’t want her to think something is wrong, though. I want to carry on as if things are normal so she doesn’t feed off our fears, okay?”
“I know.”
I kissed her softly. “I’ll bring her up. You go get ready.”
She walked up the stairs, and I gazed after her in wonder. I had no idea how I’d gotten lucky enough to find her, but I wasn’t letting her go.
Evan was right. Time to man up.
It was ring shopping time.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SIMON
A few days later, I walked into the local coffee shop, smiling at the greeting of the owner.
“Simon Fletcher,” Gladys called out. “Out and about today?”
“Errands,” I replied.
“Not going so well from the look on your face. Need a coffee?”
“And a sandwich, please.”
“The usual?”
I wondered if I would ever get used to that line. In Toronto, I was never asked if I wanted “the usual.” Places were simply too busy to keep track of that sort of thing, and no matter how often I frequented my local coffee haunt, no one ever remembered me. Here, it was different. Everyone knew you. Remembered you. I loved it.
“Please. Extra pickles today. I need the treat.”
Gladys laughed. “You got it. Sit. I’ll bring you coffee.”
I sat down heavily in the end booth, which was my favorite place to sit here. I could see the restaurant and watch the activity on the street out the window at the same time. It was a small town, but it was bustling. People coming and going, getting on with their daily tasks. Tourists wandering and discovering the many little shops. We had a nice pace here.
Gladys slid a steaming cup of coffee in front of me. A moment later, a corned beef on rye with hot mustard and a pile of her homemade garlic pickles on the side was placed on the table.
“That’ll make your day better.”
I winked at her. “You know it.”
I relaxed back in the booth, eating my sandwich, sipping my coffee, and trying to decide on my next step. I had spent the entire day in Halifax, going from jewelry store to jewelry store searching for a ring for Amy. I saw dozens, if not hundreds, of beautiful rings. Large diamonds, small ones. Stones so perfect the sparkle was immense. Colored diamonds. Various settings.
And none of them were right.
I had looked over drawings, ideas, and concepts.
Nothing struck a chord.
Nothing said Amy.
I wasn’t sure what to do other than perhaps propose without a ring and have Amy choose the one she wanted.
Except I didn’t want to do that. When I’d impulsively asked Kelsey to marry me, she immediately showed me the ring she wanted. Large, expensive, and ostentatious—and the only one she would accept. It should have been a warning sign, but I’d bought it for her. It felt as if it was part of a transaction and not a gift of love. I wanted this time to be different.
I leaned my head back, racking my brain. I would search online and see if I found something. Perhaps I could take a picture to one of the jewelers I had spoken with and they could duplicate it.
Someone slid into the booth across from me, and I lifted my head, cracking my eyes open. Holly’s amused gaze met mine. “Hey, stranger,” she quipped.
I chuckled, having seen her this morning when I’d dropped off Mia. “Hi, yourself.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “And looking frustrated for? The money world not pleasing you?”
Gladys appeared with a cup of coffee for Holly and refilled my mug. She chatted for a minute, then left. Holly took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. “I will never be a fan of decaf.” She rubbed her growing tummy. “But that’s the way it has to be right now.”
I laughed. “You’ll need the caffeine once number four shows up.”
She joined in my amusement. “Yep.” Then she became serious. “What’s up?”
I studied her for a moment and decided to tell her. Maybe she could help.
“What’s up is that I have spent hours shopping for an item I cannot seem to locate.”
“What sort of item?”
“A ring. For Amy.”
She blinked, then her eyes widened and she leaned forward, excited. “A ring? As in engagement?”
“Yes.” I ran a hand over my face, feeling the frustration build. I told Holly about my failed trip into Halifax. How I wasn’t sure what to do next.
For a moment, she said nothing, then turned and called over to Gladys. “May we have a piece of your blueberry pie? With ice cream. Two forks.”
Then she turned back to me. “You know she would love any ring you gave her because it’s from you and of what it symbolizes.”
“But I want it perfect for her.”
The pie came, and she cut off a large bite and took it. She shut her eyes and chewed slowly. I took a bite as well because Gladys’s pies were incredible and blueberry was my favorite.