The Difference a Day Makes (Perfect, Indiana: Book Two) (16 page)

BOOK: The Difference a Day Makes (Perfect, Indiana: Book Two)
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“I’m glad. He has a lot to straighten out in his head. I do believe he’s a good man, Paige. Definitely date-worthy.”

Ceejay pushed Toby along in his stroller, and Paige held Lucinda’s hand as they moved along with the crowd, visiting booths filled with pottery, jewelry, glass, beadwork, and every form of art imaginable.

“Wow. I’ve never been to anything like this.”

“Really?” Ceejay’s eyes widened. “I used to have booths in some of the smaller craft fairs held in local malls. Never this one, though. It’s way too competitive and expensive to get into.”

“Do you still bead?”

“Not since Toby started crawling. I don’t really have the time, but I hope to take it up again at some point.”

“Wow. Look at that glasswork.” Paige pointed to a booth filled with the most colorful blown-glass bowls and vases she’d ever seen. “Can we stop here for a second?”

“Auntie Paige, I want to go to the petting zoo.” Lucinda tugged at her hand.

“In a little while, Luce.” Paige picked up a business card displayed in front of an impressive bowl with a ruffled edge and swirls of blue, green, and red throughout. A middle-aged man approached. He wore his long salt-and-pepper hair tied back and had a bald spot on top.

“I’d be happy to answer any questions you might have.” He came to stand beside her.

“Thanks.” She surveyed the shelves holding glass objects of all sizes.

Toby started to fuss.

“Hey,” Ceejay nudged her, “see the booth with the children’s toys ahead?”

Paige nodded.

“I’ll take the kids, and you can meet us there in a few minutes. Will that be enough time?”

“Sure. I’ll catch up with you.” Paige turned back to the man. “Are you the artist?”

“I am.” He smiled. “Do you see anything in particular you like?”

His stuff would be a great addition to L&L’s showroom if they ever started producing more than children’s furniture. Why
weren’t they making dining room sets? What about bedrooms and living rooms? Tomorrow morning, she’d make a point to ask. “I love your work. I’m not buying today, though. I was wondering if you have a retail outlet.”

“No, I don’t. Mostly, I sell through word of mouth and at fairs like this.” The glassblower’s eyes held the glint of interest. “Why do you ask?”

“My brother and his business partner have a showroom in Perfect. I think your glassware would do well there.” She studied his card. “They’re furniture crafters.”

“I’m interested.” He folded his arms across his chest and widened his stance. “Tell me more.”

“I’d have to talk to them about it first. Do you mind if I take a picture?” She grabbed her phone out of her purse.

“Be my guest.” He moved out of the way while she snapped a few pictures.

“I’m Paige Langford, by the way. Their business is called Langford & Lovejoy Heritage Furniture.”

“You don’t say. I’ve visited their website.” His eyes widened. “My daughter and her husband are expecting their first child in August, and she really wants a Langford & Lovejoy nursery. It’s a little out of their price range, though.”

“It is pricey, but it’ll last for generations.” Excitement buzzed through her as an idea for a retail venue fomented. “Come to the showroom in Perfect. We sell the prototypes at a nice discount, and I’ll personally see to it that you get a good deal.”

“Thanks. We’ll do that. I’ll bring a portfolio along, and we can talk business while we’re there.”

“Great. Here’s their number.” Paige turned over another of his business cards and fished for a pen in her purse. “Call before you come, and I’ll make sure Ted and Noah are available to talk
to you.” She wrote L&L’s number on the blank side, along with her name, and handed it to him.

Surveying the varied arts and crafts represented at the fair, she settled on the booth where Lucinda and Toby played with sock puppets. Those would do well with the cribs, cradles, and children’s furniture. After she left the glassblower’s booth, she began gathering information from other artists whose products stood out. Noah and Ted should consider opening a retail store similar to Pottery Barn and West Elm, only better. They could start with Evansville, see how it went, and branch out from there. Offering handcrafted furniture and home decor products made entirely in the United States would appeal to today’s consumers and fill a niche market. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more excited she became.

She hurried to catch up with Ceejay, and a pang of regret almost brought her to a halt. Someone else would have to help L&L branch out, because once she planted the seed, it would be time to go home.

CHAPTER SEVEN

S
UNDAY MORNING,
R
YAN GRABBED HIS
sketchbook and headed out the door, eager to find Noah. Rounding the corner of the veranda, he heard voices. He recognized Noah’s, but not the other man’s. “Good morning.” He nodded to the stranger sitting at the table across from Noah.

“Come on up, Ryan.” Noah pushed out a chair with his prosthetic. “This is our neighbor, Denny. You want a glass of sweet tea?”

“Sure.” Ryan set the sketchbook on the table and took a seat. “Thanks.”

Noah stood up and headed for the door. “I’ll be right back.”

An awkward silence fell between Ryan and Denny, a man about his age, late twenties or maybe early thirties. He wore a baseball cap over short-cropped brown hair, and his T-shirt read
OFFERMEYER’S MEATS
across the front. He regarded Ryan with frank curiosity, which had him shifting in his chair and casting around for something to say.

Denny held out his hand. “I’m Denny Offermeyer. My wife and I own the hobby farm a couple of miles down the road.”

He shook his hand. “Ryan Malloy.”

“Noah mentioned you. He said you grew up on a ranch.”

“That’s right.”

“My wife’s mare had twins a couple of years back—a filly and a colt.”

“Hmmm.” Ryan nodded noncommittally. He didn’t care if he never saw another horse for the rest of his life. Theresa’s accident had seen to that. Noah reappeared and set a glass of tea in front of him.

“I was just telling Ryan here about our horses.” Denny leaned back with a smile. “One of them will belong to Lucinda when she turns ten. It’s a toss-up whether she’ll choose the filly or the colt.”

“She seems to like the colt best.” Noah took a swallow of his tea.

Denny nodded. “She and Celeste—that’s my daughter—change their minds every week. My wife used to train horses, but with two kids and another on the way, she doesn’t have the time to work with them much anymore.”

“I see.” Talking about horses brought the horror of that awful day with Theresa rushing back. Ryan’s heart started to pound, and his palms started to sweat. Desperate to redirect the conversation, he reached for his sketches. “I brought something to show you, Noah. As I’ve mentioned before, I think we need to expand our product line beyond baby furniture. Here are some ideas I’ve been working on.” He flipped open the book and handed it over.

Noah took it, and his eyes widened. “Wow.”

Denny leaned in to have a look. “Those are really something. I think we have a quilt that looks just like that one.” He pointed to the Log Cabin pattern.

“That’s where I got the idea. Paige and I were at a quilt store yesterday, and—”

Noah’s head came up. “You and Paige?”

Shit.
He should’ve kept that part to himself. “Um, yep. She helped me buy a phone.”

Noah’s jaw tightened, and he nodded slowly. “These are great. Are you going to build the prototypes?”

“If you give me the go-ahead.” Ryan fought the urge to tell Noah to mind his own business when it came to him and Paige. Didn’t he realize his sister was all grown up? “I have no idea how to do inlay. I was hoping you might help, or at least point me in the right direction on where to look for information.”

“Most inlay today is done with a laser cutter.” Noah went back to studying the designs, turning to the next page. “Which we don’t have.”

“Any idea how much a laser cutter might cost?”

Noah chuffed out a laugh and handed him back the sketchbook. “Around ten grand for a good one. We could do the same with a router and jigsaw, though. Probably even better. This is more along the lines of parquet or marquetry than inlay.”

“Can you teach me?” He didn’t mind the idea of doing it by hand. That would fit in with L&L’s commitment to handcrafting each piece.

“Tell you what,” Noah said. “Paige suggested we have a staff meeting first thing tomorrow morning. We can talk about it then. I’m not against expanding our product line.” He ran his hand over the stubble on his chin. “But a change like this affects all aspects of the business, and I want to run it by Ted first.”

Sucktacular.
Ryan’s gut soured. Ted held more than one grudge against him already. The kid could bring his project to a complete halt. “If Ted says no, how would you feel about letting me do this in the shop on my own time? Or maybe I could use the bay of the carriage house, like you did when you first started out.”

Noah’s attention sharpened. “It means that much to you?”

“It does.” He closed the notebook and stood up to leave. The whole business of needing anyone’s approval to create the pieces he’d designed set his teeth on edge. If he had to, he’d find a way to do it on his own. Once he had something to show for his efforts, he’d approach Noah again.

“Stay, Ryan. No need to rush off. You haven’t even touched your tea.” Noah leaned back in his chair to peer up at him. “The weather is fine, and it’s a rare thing when I get to relax with the whole place to myself.”

“Where is everybody?” Ryan frowned as he sat back down, noticing the quiet for the first time. “Where’s Sweet Pea?”

“Ceejay and Paige took the kids to the craft fair in New Harmony. Sweet Pea is around here somewhere. Probably giving the squirrels and rabbits hell.” As if on cue, the dog barked from the direction of the walnut trees in back.

“I’ve got to be heading out.” Denny scooted his chair back and rose from his place. “Gail sent me into town for milk and diapers an hour ago. Steam will start coming out of her ears if I don’t get a move on.”

“Thanks for stopping by, Denny. Poker night is at your house this month, right?”

“That’s right.” Denny turned to Ryan. “You want in? We get together once a month.”

“Uh…”

“Next time Noah brings Lucinda by, come with him. You can take a look at our horses.”

“Sure. I’ll do that.” Ryan nodded, knowing full well he had no intention of getting anywhere close to the Offermeyers’ horses. Taking Paige to the rodeo would be difficult enough. Denny left the porch and climbed into his truck, lifting his hand in a brief wave before turning down the driveway.

“He’s Perfect’s butcher.” Noah took a deep breath and let it out in a loud sigh. “Take a breath of that sweet country air. Man, I love it here.” He turned his chair slightly and stretched out his leg and prosthetic. “Have you given any thought to what we talked about the other day?”

Even though Noah stared out over the orchard, Ryan sensed his hypervigilance. “I made an appointment with an army shrink at Marion, and no more drinking, like you said.” His throat tightened. “I’ve made my decision. I want to get better. I want to keep working at Langford & Lovejoy.”

“I’m glad.” Noah closed his eyes. “And relieved, bro. You had me worried there.”

Ryan swallowed. “Yeah, me too.”

“You’re coming with me to meet the group on Tuesday?”

“That too.” Lord, he wasn’t looking forward to that part of their deal. He’d been keeping to himself for so long, isolating, fronting, drinking—other veterans would see through all his bullshit. He’d be exposed, and that scared him to death.

“We’ve all been there, Ryan. There’s not a single thing you’ve done or felt that someone else in the group won’t understand and relate to.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Ryan muttered.

Noah shot him a look of amusement. “I’ll be there.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Ryan’s brow shot up. “Because it doesn’t.”

“At ease, soldier.” Noah’s mouth twitched. “You’ll live through it.”

“If you say so.”

“Drink your tea and unbunch those shoulders.” Noah laughed. “Don’t you love the smell of spring in southern Indiana?”

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