“So, did your wife move with you, or…”

  The question, one he was expecting, trailed off at the end. Bennett’s foray into dating after having been married for so long came in very short spurts, but they’d taught him to pick up on the nuances of the single woman. They would often hint at a wife, girlfriend, or life partner, just to feel out the situation. Sometimes, if he didn’t want to be available, he told women that he was married but didn’t wear a ring because of his job.

  So, Bennett had to decide, at that moment, if he was available. Sage was a nice-looking woman, comfortable in a pair of curve hugging leggings, a red rooster’s coffee t-shirt and a pair of loafers. Not anyone that would grace the cover of a magazine, but how real were those women, anyway? He was attracted to a woman’s soul, her kindness to others, her openness, her spirit. But Sage’s pretty walnut skin, a figure he could imagine wrapping his arms around, short sassy hairdo, big almond-shaped brown eyes and full lips weren’t any hardship to look at.

  Besides, Bennett didn’t see a ring on her finger, either. She wouldn’t be asking about a wife if she had a husband. Right?

  He straightened, dropping the dented and corroded pipe on the counter next to the machine. He reached for the new clear plastic cylinder, still in its packaging, and tore it open. “No. My uh… my wife is gone. Five years now. Breast cancer, metastatic. Took her pretty quickly.”

  Bennett avoided looking at women when he informed them of his marital status. Widower. He didn’t know how to act, what to do with his face when he gave the brief rundown. Was she supposed to be happy to hear about the demise of the love of his life? If she was, would that be a… turn off? Was that a red flag? He couldn’t grasp it himself.

  A low moan and sucking of teeth, however, drew his attention to Sage. Her expression was sad. But also… something else.

  “My husband, Gordon, died five years ago. Car accident, real bad. He lived for a few days, but…” She bowed her head, her eyelashes fluttering with her rapid blinking.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Really sorry to hear that.”

  After a few quiet moments, her head lifted. Her eyes were glassy, but not a tear had fallen. “Thanks. I know you know how I’m feeling.”

  “Yeah.” Bennett nodded, then went back to work on the machine. “I finally moved away because, you know, everyone knew us. I felt like I was being reminded, all the time, about what we had. Places she loved to go, dishes she loved to eat, even the building she worked in. I had to drive past there every day and not stop in and say hey, take her to lunch. The kids are gone, away at college. I just—”

  “Needed a new start. Yeah.”

  Sage shifted her weight from one leg to the other, glancing out of the window at the empty parking lot, her arms folded across her ample chest. “I moved out here to be close to my daughter. Got her enrolled at college, then found a little something for me to do. I just couldn’t sit around, missing him anymore.”

  Bennett straightened again, this time affixing his full attention on her. “So you really feel where I’m coming from.”

  “Yep. This little town has been a lifesaver, though. Friendly people, a real small-town atmosphere. Very welcoming, like family.”

  “I definitely agree with you there. They have surprised me.”

  With a quick twist of a screwdriver, he had swapped out the temperature gauge and tossed the old one on the counter. He closed the front door to the machine and reached behind it to flip the power switch. It buzzed and hummed and beeped, coming to life.

  “You get good business here?”

  “Usually. I’m surprised we’re so dead right now. Must be the weather and the holiday. We’re usually hopping. Maybe the after work rush.”

  “Well…” Bennett paused, watching the machine adjust and bring itself to normal working order. “What do you say we give this thing a whirl?”

  Sage grinned, beaming a beautiful smile in his direction. “Okay! Do you drink coffee? Whaddya have, on the house?”

  “Oh. Lemme do like… a caramel latte. Sounds good.”

  “Alright,” she said, practically bouncing across the room to grab a cup and the ingredients she needed to make his coffee. “Let’s take her for a spin.”

  2

  Sage

  * * *

  The latte Sage made him could probably win first place in the Best Latte Ever Awards, if those existed. She was precise, slowly, methodically going through her paces. Coffee. Syrup. Milk. Froth — which, by the way, was perfect.

  Bennett sipped slowly, since it was probably scalding hot. “I’ll have to adjust to having a working temperature gauge. Sorry it’s so hot.”

  “It’s alright. It’s great, as lattes go.” He snapped a lid onto his cup and set it down on the counter, then started packing up his tools and crumpling wrappers from the parts he’d used.

  The pang of sadness that came over her, watching him prepare to leave, surprised Sage so much it nearly left her speechless. “Thank you for coming out so close to the holiday. Do you have a busy day ahead?”

  “Nah.” He shook his head while he latched the toolbox closed. “This is my only call. I took today off, but Brevel said it was an emergency, so…” He shrugged, then picked up the toolbox in one hand and the coffee cup in the other. “The service call is free. I won’t bill you for the parts since I had them on hand, and it would cost me more time to work up the invoice than they’re worth. Call it a Christmas gift.”

  Sage beamed. “Oh. Well, thank you. It was nice of you to come out.”

  “I figure I’ll stop by the barbershop down the way, get a fresh cut and see what the fellas are talking about.”

  “Oh, yeah? Mayor was already in here today. He gets a latte every morning during the week and around 11AM on Saturdays. I can practically set my watch by him.”

  “Sounds like a habit I need to adopt.” Bennett gave her a cursory nod and headed toward the door, but stopped when he realized he’d run out of hands. “Could you… uh…”

  Sage darted around the counter and crossed the shop in just a few steps. She pulled the door open and watched him walk through, inhaling the faintest scent of an earthy, leathery cologne.

  “Thanks again!” she called, standing in the doorway and watching him walk around the back of his truck. He set the box inside the bed and lifted his hand in a wave before heading down the sidewalk toward Guys N Dolls.

  Sage never wished she was a guy’s gal more in her life. The ones that wore a slinky black dress and four-inch heels to post up at a hotel bar to ‘watch the game’ and knew what was happening. She was never the type. She let Gordon have his sports on Sundays while she brunched or read, did some knitting or scrapbooking.

  She supposed that people changed. And that she couldn’t meet someone new by sitting alone watching every episode of Say Yes to the Dress and 90Day Fiancé on the DVR.

  But did she want to meet someone new? Was she available?

  Sage whipped around, irritated with herself for even contemplating the question, and stepped back inside the shop, letting the door swing shut. She grabbed a clean white towel from a stack behind the counter and a spray bottle and got busy wiping down the area where Bennet’s toolbox had sat. Then she cleaned the machine since it was still dirty from his order.

  The front door opened with a swish, but since her back was turned, she called over her shoulder. “Welcome to Roosters! Be with you in a second.”

  “Take your time,” said a deep baritone that was already familiar.

  * * *

  Bennett

  * * *

  Sage whipped around so fast that she dropped the towel she’d been using to detail the espresso machine. Bennett smiled in apology for startling her.

  “Hi. Was… is Guys N Dolls closed? They must be slow for Kendrick to close up—”

  “No, no. It’s hoppin’ over there. I just thought…”

  He inhaled a deep breath and walked himself through the 3 second version of the speech he’d rehearsed on my way back to the coffee shop. “I guess I figured that if I’m going to the barbershop, I need some place to show off my cut. And I thought maybe you’d want to uh…”

  He choked. It had been a while since he’d asked a woman on a date, and he hardly knew what to say anymore. Some of these modern women were bold and did the asking themselves. Bennett guessed he didn’t mind that, but he was used to making the moves.

  Sage saved him, though. “Bennett Alexander…” She chuckled, folding the towel over and over again. That’s how he could tell she was nervous, too. “Are you asking me out?”

  “If… you… want to go out… yes. If not, don’t feel like you’ll hurt my feelings. It’s short notice and tomorrow’s a holiday and—”

  “I didn’t say all that.” She dropped the towel on the counter and leaned onto it, her palms flat against the surface. Then she smiled. And he relaxed. “I’d love to. Where are we going? And at what time?”

  “Wherever you’d like to go is fine. The rest of my day consists of sitting around a barber shop listening to the young men tell stories about young women so… I can be available whenever.”

  “I normally close at nine, but it doesn’t look like I’m going to get much business today. I’m thinking of cutting out early. Do you feel like Italian? Zucco is good, and they’re open tonight. It’s a couple of blocks from here.”

  “Sounds good. Meet me around seven?”

  She smiled, nodding. “Yeah. Seven is fine.”

  “Great.” Bennett knocked back the rest of his coffee, which had cooled considerably, and tossed it into the garbage bin on my way out. “See you then.”

  Bennett had dated a few times since Virginia died, but not dated. Gone out on a few dates. Not nearly enough, but he wasn’t interested in putting notches in a bed post or anything like that. Most dates were something to keep him busy, to get out of the house, or to appease his mother and sister, who felt he should “get back out there”. Whatever that meant.

  He considered that part — the dating part, the finding a partner part, the sharing his life part of his life to be over. He’d had twenty-five overwhelmingly happy years with one person. The chances that he could find that again seemed slim.

  Despite that, Bennett was nervous and excited, anticipating his date with Sage. There wasn’t any pressure for her to be his new woman or anything. He just knew it was going to be nice to sit and talk with someone who understood. Not just sympathetic, but understood every inch and mile, every nuance of this widow and widower life.

  “You gotta go get yourself a nice shirt,” said Kendrick, one of the barbers at Guys N’ Dolls. “Make a good impression.”

  “Yeah. All of that,” agreed KC, owner of the shop and current mayor of the town of Potter Lake. Bennett was already trying hard not to be an NBA fanboy, but he sucked up advice from the men in the shop, who understood modern dating better than he did, like a dry sponge.

  As Kendrick advised, he got a nice cut, then dropped by Ella’s Boutique before she closed and picked up a new shirt to wear with some dark jeans. Then he headed home to shower, shave and get fine, which is what KC said when he teased him about needing a haircut on Christmas Eve.

  No matter how much time he wasted, he was still pacing the living room, expending excited energy until it was time to go.

  Bennett finally just sat down on the couch and reached for the remote. Maybe he could catch a game or something to pass the time. The phone buzzed against the wood of the coffee table. These days, Bennett only got calls from work, his mother, or the kids, so it was likely one of them.

  It was a photo; the one Rebecca had promised to send. The flowers — carnations and roses and lilies, all Virginia’s favorites in a large, beautiful spray sat in front of her headstone. The sight took his breath away and, for a moment, Bennett considered calling Sage to cancel their date, then crawling into bed to stare at the ceiling fan some more.

  That wasn’t a possibility, though. He couldn’t live through more days where he stared at the ceiling fan. Wasn’t that why he had left Charlotte and come to this town? Wasn’t that why he was going out with someone? Besides, there was a good chance that Sage would understand this deep mass of heaviness that settled in his chest. Being able to talk to someone about that made him excited again.

  Bennett thumbed out a text to Rebecca and Albert, telling them the flowers looked beautiful and thanking them for taking care of the task. He didn’t expect a response, since they were probably at his mother’s, helping her get ready for the following day. She always cooked like the entire United States Army was coming to dinner.

  There would be his sister, Diane, her husband Brandon and their four kids, plus mom’s sister Phyllis and her husband, Dennis and their kids… Bennett was more than a little thankful to not have to endure another year of so, are you thinking about getting back out there?

  When it was time to go, he hopped up from the couch, turned off all the lights except for a lamp in the living room, and stepped out. He rented the right side of a duplex home. The owner, Monroe, lived on the other side and was almost always outside on the porch. It was a nice space, screened in so it protected him from the elements, facing the street so he could see cars and passersby. And Bennett, leaving his place every day.

  Monroe lifted an arm to wave as Bennett descended the steps from the porch, headed to his truck. It was a good thing Sage had already seen the truck, because it would embarrass him if she hadn’t. He’d driven the thing around the world a few times, probably, and it was still running. Though it was like a two-ton security blanket, it just barely made the trip from Charlotte and was in desperate need of replacing.

  “Merry Christmas to you, Monroe, in case I don’t see you!”

  “You’ll see me, son. Got to come home sometime,” he answered with a laugh. He must have sensed Bennett was in a hurry, because instead of holding him up with random chatter, he just waved and went back to playing checkers against himself.

  Bennett drove the few miles to Zucco Italian in downtown Potter Lake, if you could even call it that, pulling into the lot with five minutes to spare. It was a brand new place, with bright lights flashing around a marquee sign, well-manicured bushes and greenery flanking each side of the red brick building.

  Sage had already arrived. She was on the phone, pacing the front of the restaurant. Feeling like he was late, even though he wasn’t, Bennett hopped out of the truck and locked it, like anyone would want that old, battered thing or any of the junk inside it. He jogged across the half-empty parking lot to the front door.

  “Okay, he’s here, so I need to go,” she almost whispered into the phone. “No, the plan hasn’t changed. Let yourself in if I’m not there. Pop the popcorn and start the cocoa going, alright? Alright. See you later, honey. Love you.”

  “Phone call from the boss?”

  She smiled and sighed and slid the phone into the pocket of a stylish little bag. “I shouldn’t have even said anything about possibly not being home when she got there. I never have plans, so she had a hundred questions. It’s just that… she worries…”

  The end of her sentence trailed off, and Bennett was sure she’d be blushing, were her skin not such a deep, cocoa tone. He wasn’t the only one who went and “got fine” for the evening. Sage wore a cranberry V-neck form fitting sweater dress with a pair of black leather boots and small silver hoops in her ears. A pendant hung from a chain around her neck, balanced delicately just above the swell of her breasts. Last, she smelled delicious, the heady scent of jasmine and musk wafting over him.

  “Well, we’re here now.” Bennett offered his arm, and she caught the hint, sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Let’s put her worry to good use, shall we?”

  3

  Sage

  * * *

  Sage tucked a hand into Bennett’s elbow and let him usher her into the restaurant. He looked nice. He wore an obviously new shirt with dark jeans and black boots. He smelled good, too.

  She didn’t blame Rae for being worried. Hell, Sage was worried. As a relatively young widow, unlike her friends, whose marriages had ended in some form or another, she wasn’t eager to jump out into the dating pool. A year after Gordon died, her sister had nudged her about trying to date, but Sage couldn’t even imagine it. She hadn’t even taken off her rings. Rae was even less of a fan of the idea.

  “You don’t even know this man!” She had protested when Sage called to tell her about the plans that evening. “You know his name and that he works for Brevel. And that’s it.”

  “I know he used to live in Charlotte. He’s got two kids, about your age. He’s a widower. His wife’s name was… Valerie? No, Virginia. Oh!”

  Sage snapped her fingers in the air. “Alexander Repair. That’s what he said his business name was. He just does work for Brevel. He’s not an employee.”

  “Well, I’m going to check him out,” she said.

  “What? How?”

  “Online. We have his name and his business name, his wife’s name. I’ll do a background check. Something’s got to be out there on him.”

  Sage had been rifling through the closet for something cute to wear. She didn’t exactly want to advertise all the goods… but she wanted to show off a little of the merchandise. She settled on a sweater dress she’d never worn and a pair of boots, then moved through the small apartment while she waited for the hot water pipe to kick in and the bathroom to heat up.

  “It’s just dinner, Rae! I’m meeting him there. Don’t get yourself worked up about it. He’s not looking me up on the internet.”

  “How do you know? Maybe he knows everything about you, and he was just waiting for a chance to come into the shop and started working for Brevel—”

 

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