"I met him last night," I admitted, sure that it wouldn't take her long to connect the dots.
"I see. Well, honey darling, I'm thinking you two missed the page on one-night stands," she said with laughing eyes as she settled on the stool behind the counter.
"We didn't even make it to the 'one-night stand' status. I passed out before we could even do the deed, which means that item is still on my list," I complained, placing my elbows on the counter so I could rest my chin on my hands. "I was an idiot to add that to my list."
"You're not an idiot. You're just someone trying to forget a tough past. I don't condone jumping in bed with a stranger, but I also know that every woman deserves the right to have at least one night where a man loves her right. You deserve that toe-curling experience, honey darling, and judging by the looks of it, Mr. Sexy Voice would be very accommodating in that category."
"But it's too late for that. I can't have a one-night stand with someone I could bump into the next day. That defeats the whole purpose. Hot sex with no attachments, remember?"
"Honey, with a man like that, one night wouldn't do you anyway. I saw the way he was looking at you."
"It's a moot point," I sighed. "I'm not looking for a relationship."
"I know you're not, sugar, but there's no reason you can't allow yourself to live a little," she said, nudging me toward the stool she had been using. I smiled grimly at her observation. She'd come to know me well in a short period of time and was able to tell I was exhausted without me saying a word.
"I'm pretty sure someone your age should be telling me I should wait until marriage or something like that," I said dryly as I sank down on the stool.
She snorted loudly. "Sugar, I've never given the traditional advice. It's probably my words of wisdom that sent my poor Earl to an early grave. That poor dear never knew what was going to come out of my mouth. I drove that boy to insanity with my naughty mouth when he was courting me. His parents nearly stroked out the first time he brought me home. I'm pretty sure his prissy mom told him to drop me immediately before I tainted their family blood. Earl wouldn't hear of it. I had him snagged hook, line and sinker. He proposed three months after our first date and we were married two months after that. He later admitted he couldn't have waited another moment to have me. Turns out, my naughty talking had him in a sexual tizzy the entire time we were dating," she said, chuckling at the memory. "His momma wore black to the wedding."
"You minx," I teased. She joked about it, but it was obvious she missed her husband greatly even though he'd been gone for fifteen years. I envied their love story, knowing something like that wasn't in my cards.
"You're no different than me young lady. I saw how that tall drink of handsomeness was looking at you. He looks at you like my Earl used to look at me. You mark my words: He wants you like a condemned man yearns for freedom."
"Are you giving me permission to have an affair?" I joked, using the duster that was stowed under the counter to dust around where I was sitting, so I was at least being a little productive.
"I'm telling you, you deserve to live a little," she said, giving me a one-armed hug before heading back to her office in the stockroom.
Contemplating her words, I pulled out my purse from beneath the cabinet. I rifled through it until I found the sheet of paper I was looking for. I smoothed it out on the counter and read over the long list. There were twenty-seven things listed on the paper, and only fifteen of them were crossed out. I realized I wouldn't be able to finish everything on the list before time ran out. My days in Woodfalls were numbered. Soon I would have to face the music and return to my old life. Maybe Fran was right. The list wasn't written in stone. One item could easily be switched out for another. I gnawed indecisively on my thumb nail for a moment before I finally grabbed a pen out of the cup by the register. With shaking fingers, I crossed out "*One-Night Stand with a Stranger" and wrote in "*Have an Affair with Sexy-Voice Nathan." This was insane. How did I go from "one night" to "affair?" When did I become this bold person? I knew exactly when I became that kind of person, it was the day I learned that life was short and you needed to seize the opportunity to live.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly as Fran and I continued to stock the shelves. A steady stream of customers came in, mostly to buy items they'd forgotten in their weekly or monthly grocery shopping trip at the large store by the highway. Each of them would spend a few minutes looking for their items, and then another ten chatting with Fran and me if I was around. It was the way it worked around here. Most of the conversation was gossip, and as fate would have it, I was the main topic. It seemed word had gotten out that I had drunk enough to float a battleship with a complete stranger. Thanks to Joe's big mouth, everyone knew about my disastrous evening. At first, I was mortified that all three thousand residents probably knew that I'd been out flirting with some guy I didn't even know, but by the fourth customer, I reminded myself that this was the reason I moved here. I wanted that small-town feel, the good and the bad. Fran was a godsend throughout the afternoon. When the ribbing got too personal, she'd remind the patrons of any past deeds they weren't too proud of. It seemed like she had dirt on everyone. It was a benefit of being that old and living here as long as she had. She'd seen a lot of people grow from child to adult in this town, and witnessed many things people would now like to forget.
I was still chuckling after she reminded busybody Chrissy Dean about the time she got caught with Michael Ridge's hand up her skirt during the homecoming dance back in ninety-nine. Chrissy scurried off, mumbling about people having the memory of an elephant.
"Fran, how do you know all this crap?" I asked, locking the door and flipping the "closed" sign over.
"Darling, I realized years ago that in a town this size you need to keep track of things. When a scandal arises, everyone suddenly forgets their own past sins. After seeing a couple of the newer residents run off by gossip years ago, I decided to make it my job to remind everyone that no one is perfect. Could you imagine how boring it would be if we were?" she asked, shuddering as she flipped off the light switch, plunging the store into semi-darkness.
"At your age, shouldn't you be walking the straight and narrow?" I asked, heading out the back door with her. The question was meant to tease, but there was a layer of curiosity beneath it. What happened to us after we died was a nagging question in my head. Even though I knew some would say my curiosity was morbid.
"Honey, it's too late for me. I figure, either god will give me a free pass for my charming personality, or he'll give me the boot. It's too late to be fixin' things now."
"Heaven would be lucky to have you," I said loyally, walking down the cobblestone path with her.
"You know, honey, you don't need to walk me home," she reminded me, the same way she did every night. "My house is less than two hundred yards from the store, not two miles," she added.
"I like walking you home, so there," I told her, not mentioning the fact that it made me feel better to keep an eye on her while she navigated the uneven path in the dark. I knew it would piss her off if I admitted I was afraid she'd trip or something. I knew how much her independence meant to her.
"Do you want to stay for dinner?" she asked, opening her front door that was never locked.
"Not tonight. I think I'm going to hit the sack early."
"Any big plans tomorrow?"
"Well, since it's Sunday, and we're closed, I'm going to cross another item off my list. I need to kick it into high gear if I'm going to finish all the items," I said with a slight edge of panic in my voice.
"You'll do it. Which one are you doing?" she asked, although I could tell she already knew.
"The fear one," I answered, making busywork of searching for my car keys in my purse.