simple bolts for the new picnic tables, and his mind had circled back to Sophie again.
He needed to focus. Work came first, leaving no room for foolish, juvenile thoughts.
As he headed back to the counter, Macy was swiping a customerâs credit card and chatting about the unseasonal heat with it only being April. Once the man was gone, Zach set his items down on the counter.
Macy knew to put everything on his account. He paid it off monthly, but this way everything he purchased was on one itemized receipt for the month.
âSo what was this favor and business proposition?â he asked as she slid his bolts into a small brown sack with the store logo on the front.
âWhen you built the Clevengersâ house, you had designed it too. Right?â
âYes. They didnât like anything theyâd seen in books or online.â The bag crinkled as Zach gripped the top. âThey liked portions of various ones, so I drew up the plans to their specifications.â
âCould I make an appointment with you to discuss some house plans?â
âI wasnât aware you were thinking of building.â
âI donât want to live above the store with my dad forever, no matter how state-of-the-art everything is up in that apartment.â She shrugged and smoothed her hair behind her ears. âIâm in no rush, but Iâd like to get the ball rolling when you have time.â
When he had time? That would never happen, but for a friend he would certainly make time.
âWhy donât I come by here one evening around closing? We can discuss your ideas then.â
A wide smile lit up her face. âThat would be great. I know youâre busy with so many other things, so donât feel pressured to rush this. Like I said, Iâm in no hurry. Iâve lived upstairs with Dad my whole life. A few more years wonât matter.â
Stepping back from the counter, Zach gripped his sack and headed for the door. âIâll call you and we can figure out what day works best.â
âThanks, Zach.â
He stepped out into the bright midday sun and headed down the wide sidewalk toward his old beat-up work truck. As much as certain people in the town grated on his nerves, Zach supposed heâd be miserable anywhere he lived. Why not live in an area that thrived when so many others were tanking? All of the local shops were bustling at any given time of the day. Cafés, boutiques, downtown loft apartments; Haven had so much to offer.
People took pride in their stores, their homes. All the storefronts still had that vintage feel with the wide windows and displays, bright-colored siding, and little concrete stoops with oversized pots of flowers provided by the city and kept up by the garden club.
Zach jerked the handle on his truck and slid in behind the wheel, pulling his creaky door shut with a slam . Braxton still lived in Haven, but Liam had moved to Savannah. Zach had nowhere else to go. This was it for him. The Monroes had given him roots, something no one else had ever done, and in all honesty, he wouldnât have a clue where to go.
Getting all nostalgic was absurd. He fired up the engine and eased out onto the two-lane street, watching for pedestrians. Since Chelsea had passed, he kept running through those deep meanings of life. What was his purpose? Was he meant to just go through the motions of day-to-day living, serving other people while this anger and guilt raged inside of him? Would he ever find peace with himself?
Shit. He cranked up his radio on his favorite heavy metal station and turned onto Vine Street. He had to get his head on straight or heâd drive himself nuts. He planned on finishing his workday so he could head over to Chelseaâs old apartment. The landlord had told them to take their time getting Chelseaâs things out, but apparently now he had new tenants who were hoping to move in by the end of the month. Now Zach had to fully face that