CHAPTER FORTY–TWO–A Past That Won’t Stay Buried
“Fairest?” the man scoffed. “I’ll tell you what’s fair. That bookshelf there, what’s the price?
Laura glanced at the item in question. “Um, bidding on that starts at forty dollars.”
The couple exchanged a look of exaggerated shock. “Forty dollars? For that old thing? We’ll give you ten, and we’re being generous
“Laura’s patience, already stretched thin by the emotional toll of the day, began to fray. “I’m sorry, but that’s not how this works. If you want to bid, you’re welcome to participate when—”
“Listen, young lady,” the woman cut in, her voice dripping with condescension. “We’re doing you a favor even considering this junk. Ten dollars, take it or leave it.”
Laura felt her hands begin to shake, a mix of anger and hurt bubbling up inside her. These weren’t just things; they were pieces of her life, memories of better times. How dare these people waltz in and-
Suddenly, Jen was at her side, a calm presence in the storm. “Is there a problem here?” she asked, her voice pleasant but with a steely undertone
The man puffed up his chest. “Yes, there is. Your prices are ridiculous, and
“I see,” Jen interrupted smoothly. “Well, I’m afraid if you find our auction unsatisfactory, you’re under no obligation to stay. Perhaps
the flea market down on Fifth Street would be more to your liking?”
The couple sputtered, clearly not used to being dismissed so politely yet firmly.
Jen continued, her smile never wavering “Of course, if you’d like to stay, we’d be delighted to have you participate in the auction properly. Who knows? You might even snag a bargain if you play your cards right.”
The man opened his mouth to argue, but his wife tugged on his arm. “Come on, Harold. This isn’t worth it”
With a final buff, the couple turned and left, the door slamming behind them. A ripple of murmurs went through the crowd, which had been watching the exchange with interest.
Laura let out a shaky breath. “Thanks, Jen. I was about to lose it.”
Jen squeezed her sister’s arm. “No problem. Now, let’s get back to it. I think Mrs. Goldstein over there has her eye on your vintage record player.”
As the auction resumed, Laura felt a renewed sense of purpose. Yes, she was selling off pieces of her past, but with each item that found a new home, she felt lighter, more ready for the future that awaited her in New York
The afternoon wore on, filled with raised hands, escalating bids, and the occasional heated competition over particularly desirable items. Laura’s neighbor, Mr. Chen, got into a surprisingly intense bidding war with a young couple over a set of mid–century modern dining chairs. In the end, Mr. Chen emerged victorious, a triumphant grin on his face as he handed over the cash.
“My wife’s going to kill me,” he confided to Laura with a wink “But some things are worth sleeping on the couch for.”
As the crowd thinned and the last items were claimed, Laura looked around the now–empty community room. It was strange, seeing the spaces where her life had once been laid out, now bare and ready for someone else’s story.
Jen approached, tucking a stack of
dinner with some of these proceeds?”
Sluto an envelope. “Well, sis, I’d say that was a success. You ready to treat your favorite sister to
Laura laughed, feeling lighter than she had in months. “Absolutely. I think we’ve earned it.”
As they left the community room, Laura paused to take one last look. It wasn’t just turniture and knick–knacks she’d sold today. It was the last tangible pieces of her life with Leon, the physical reminders of a marriage that had crumbled. And while there was sadness in that, there was also a profound sense of freedom.
New York was waiting, and Laura McKenna was ready to fill those empty spaces with new memories, new dreams, and yes, maybe even some new furniture.
The bell above the door chimed as Laura and Jen stepped into Molly’s Café, the familiar scent of coffee and freshly baked muffins enveloping them. The sisters had been coming here since high school, and even now, years later, It felt like stepping back in time.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite McKenna girls!” Molly herselm behind the counter, her gray hair tied back in its usual messy
called
bun “The usual?
“You know it, Molly,” Jen replied with a grlu. “Some things never clustige.”
As they settled into their favorite booth by the window, Laura ran her hand over the worn tabletop, tracing the initials carved into the wood by countless patrons over the years “Remember when we used to come here after school? You’d always get that ridiculous triple chocolate mocha thing.”
Jen laughed. “Hey, I was a growing girl. Needed my sugar fix.”
“More like a cavity fix,” Laura teased,
Molly arrived with their orders
a simple latte for Laura and, true to form, an overly sweet concoction for Jen. “Here you go, dears. Now, what’s this I hear about you moving to the big city, Laura?
Laura nodded, wrapping her hands around the warm mug “That’s right. Heading to New York next week.”
Molly clucked her tongue. “Well, we’ll sure miss you around here. But good for you, honey. Sometimes you gotta shake things up to tind where you belong.”
As Molly moved away to tend to other customers, Jen leaned forward. “Speaking of belonging, are you nervous? About New York, I
mean.”
Laura took a sip of her latte, considering the question. “Honestly? I’m terrified. But also… excited? It’s like, for the first time in forever, I feel like I’m doing something for me, you know?”
Jen nodded, understanding in her eyes. “I get it. After everything with Leon, you deserve this. A fresh start.”
At the mention of her ex–husband’s name, Laura felt a familiar twinge in her chest. It was duller now, more of an echo than the sharp pain it had once been. “Yeah. It’s just… I keep thinking about when we first moved here. How excited we were, planning our future together.”
“Hey,” Jen said softly, reaching across the table to squeeze her sister’s hand. “That chapter’s closed now. You’ve got a whole new book
to write.”
Laura smiled, grateful for her sister’s unwavering support. “I know. It’s just weird, thinking about leaving this place. So many memories, good and bad.”
“Like the time you thought you could dye your own hair and ended up looking like a deranged peacock?” Jen grinned.
Laura groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Oh God, I’d almost forgotten about that. Didn’t I hide in here for like, three days straight?”
“Yep.” Jen laughed. “Molly kept you supplied with muffins and sympathy until Mom finally dragged you to a real salon.”
As they reminisced, the afternoon slipped away. They talked about childhood adventures, teenage crushes, and the twists and turns that had led them to this moment. Laura found herself laughing more than she had in months, the weight of her impending move temporarily lifted by the warmth of sisterly love and shared history.
“You know,” Laura said as they finished their second round of coffees, “I think this is what I’ll miss most. Not the place, exactly, but…
this Us.”
Jen’s eyes softened. “Hey, New York’s not that far. I’ll come visit so often you’ll be sick of me.”
“Promise?” Laura asked, only half–joking
“Cross my heart,” Jen replied solemnly. “Besides, someone’s gotta make sure you’re not subsisting entirely on bodega coffee and dollar slice pizza”
As they prepared to leave, Molly approached their table one last time. “Laura, honey, before you go, I’ve got a little something for you. “She handed over a small, wrapped package.
Laura opened it to find a familiar–looking mug, painted with Molly’s Café’s logo “Oh, Molly, you didn’t have to
“Nonsense,” Mally interrupted, pulling Laura into a tight hug. “You take a little piece of home with you, you hear? And don’t be at stranger. This booth’ll always be here waiting for you
Fighting back tears, Laura hupped Molly back. “Thank you. For everything
As they stepped out of the café, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the street, Laura felt a mix of emotions wash over bert. Sadurss at what she was leaving behind, excitement for what lay ahead, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the people who had shaped her life in this small Connecticut town
“Ready for one last stop?” Jen asked, linking her arm through Laura’s.
Laura nodded, clutching her new mug close. “Veali. Let’s go.”
