stainless-steel mixing bowls and whisks and ladles and spoons. In the spring, she always cleaned out the shop’s kitchen, repainted the walls, and scrubbed the very back inches of every cupboard, shelf, and drawer, but she never did it this early in the spring. Since she woke up this morning, she’d wrestled with herself like a cartoon split personality, half of her desperate to get out the door, the other half trying to force her to stay. Now she was here, so she might as well use all this crazy energy to accomplish something. She tossed a mix of CDs into her player—Faith Hill, U2, Alanis Morissette—so the music could rev up her blood and lighten her mood, and she worked fast and efficiently, but deep inside she remained seriously cranky.
She felt so damned childish! She felt like Lexi would think Clare was in her shop because she’d heard that Lexi had rented the space next door and that Clare was so pathetically
eager
to see Lexi again that she’d come down to the shop and was making all this noise so Lexi would know she was here!
And that was true.
How embarrassing!
Ever since she’d heard of Lexi’s return to the island, Clare’s emotions had frothed like cream in a double boiler. Bubbles circled to the surface—excitement—Lexi! Her Lexi! Here again! Then
Pop!
Lexi, snotty Lexi, bad Lexi, gorgeous Lexi, shooting Clare a look that would make a giraffe feel short. Clare screamed along to Alanis Morissette’s “You Ought to Know” as she pushed and pulled one of the work stations away from the kitchen wall.
A moment of silence fell when the song ended and in that silence, someone said, “Hello.”
“Aah!” Startled, Clare stumbled backward, knocking her elbow on the wall.
Right there in the doorway between the kitchen and the packaging room stood Lexi, all grown up and looking like three hundred million dollars. Her shoulder-length white-blond hair was sliced in a sharp blunt cut that gave her a trendy, urban air, not that she needed it, wearing those hip-hugging black stovepipe pants with the ornate beaded belt and a cashmere cardigan sweater. It looked like her boots had seven-inch heels, but that was only because Lexi was so tall and thin. Just a slice of her sleek belly peeked between sweater and pants, a fad that Clare considered one of the fashion world’s most significant errors of judgment, but on Lexi even this looked good.
Clare thought how
she
must look to Lexi in her old baggy athletic pants and one of Jesse’s faded blue work shirts, unironed, her normal cleaning garb. Her brown hair was rumpled and she hadn’t bothered to put on lipstick.
Oh, very nice,
she told herself.
You came here expecting to see Lexi, so you made yourself look as sloppy as possible. How perfectly self-defeating.
Alanis started yelling about something being perfect. Clare stabbed the Off button and the room went quiet.
“How did you get in here?”
Lexi produced a shy smile. “Through the connecting door.” She waved her hand vaguely toward the wall.
Clare bent to drop the sponge in the bucket, to grab a moment to hide her confusion. “You might have phoned first.”
“Um, but your sign says
Closed.
I didn’t know you were going to be here until I heard the music.” She hesitated, then said in a rush. “I rented the place next door. I’m going to live upstairs, and have a shop downstairs. I…I didn’t know this was your shop.”
Clare squinted her eyes at Lexi. “It’s called Sweet
Hart
’s and you didn’t guess?”
Lexi blushed. “Well, I suppose I assumed…but that’s not why I rented this particular space. It’s just so perfect for what I need.” She shifted her weight, flapping her hands around awkwardly like she’d done when she was younger. She looked like a stork on roller skates. Like she always had. “You look great, Clare.”
Clare bridled. “Right. I’m a fashion classic.”
Lexi waved her hand again. “I mean, not your clothes, I mean, we all look like that when
She felt so damned childish! She felt like Lexi would think Clare was in her shop because she’d heard that Lexi had rented the space next door and that Clare was so pathetically
eager
to see Lexi again that she’d come down to the shop and was making all this noise so Lexi would know she was here!
And that was true.
How embarrassing!
Ever since she’d heard of Lexi’s return to the island, Clare’s emotions had frothed like cream in a double boiler. Bubbles circled to the surface—excitement—Lexi! Her Lexi! Here again! Then
Pop!
Lexi, snotty Lexi, bad Lexi, gorgeous Lexi, shooting Clare a look that would make a giraffe feel short. Clare screamed along to Alanis Morissette’s “You Ought to Know” as she pushed and pulled one of the work stations away from the kitchen wall.
A moment of silence fell when the song ended and in that silence, someone said, “Hello.”
“Aah!” Startled, Clare stumbled backward, knocking her elbow on the wall.
Right there in the doorway between the kitchen and the packaging room stood Lexi, all grown up and looking like three hundred million dollars. Her shoulder-length white-blond hair was sliced in a sharp blunt cut that gave her a trendy, urban air, not that she needed it, wearing those hip-hugging black stovepipe pants with the ornate beaded belt and a cashmere cardigan sweater. It looked like her boots had seven-inch heels, but that was only because Lexi was so tall and thin. Just a slice of her sleek belly peeked between sweater and pants, a fad that Clare considered one of the fashion world’s most significant errors of judgment, but on Lexi even this looked good.
Clare thought how
she
must look to Lexi in her old baggy athletic pants and one of Jesse’s faded blue work shirts, unironed, her normal cleaning garb. Her brown hair was rumpled and she hadn’t bothered to put on lipstick.
Oh, very nice,
she told herself.
You came here expecting to see Lexi, so you made yourself look as sloppy as possible. How perfectly self-defeating.
Alanis started yelling about something being perfect. Clare stabbed the Off button and the room went quiet.
“How did you get in here?”
Lexi produced a shy smile. “Through the connecting door.” She waved her hand vaguely toward the wall.
Clare bent to drop the sponge in the bucket, to grab a moment to hide her confusion. “You might have phoned first.”
“Um, but your sign says
Closed.
I didn’t know you were going to be here until I heard the music.” She hesitated, then said in a rush. “I rented the place next door. I’m going to live upstairs, and have a shop downstairs. I…I didn’t know this was your shop.”
Clare squinted her eyes at Lexi. “It’s called Sweet
Hart
’s and you didn’t guess?”
Lexi blushed. “Well, I suppose I assumed…but that’s not why I rented this particular space. It’s just so perfect for what I need.” She shifted her weight, flapping her hands around awkwardly like she’d done when she was younger. She looked like a stork on roller skates. Like she always had. “You look great, Clare.”
Clare bridled. “Right. I’m a fashion classic.”
Lexi waved her hand again. “I mean, not your clothes, I mean, we all look like that when
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