The Obsession(49)

“I really . . .” She thought of the income she’d just banked, turned the automatic refusal on its ear. “Should do that.”

“Yes! Maybe we can find your dishes.”

“I ordered them. Wait. I’ll show you.”

They both studied her computer screen as she brought them up. “They’re recycled glass, which appealed, and I went with some white serving pieces for the bump. I think—”

“They’re wonderful. Perfect. Oh, they’re going to look fabulous in that kitchen. And on the table once you get a table.”

“The table can wait awhile. Not planning any dinner parties. But I do need stools. Stools, and a dresser. It’d be nice to put my clothes in drawers rather than cardboard boxes.”

“Let’s go bag one.”

The dog came. Naomi had no intention of taking him, but he followed them out, hopped right in her car, then crawled into the back to sit, tongue hanging out in anticipation.

“He’s so sweet. A dog’s a good thing to have living out here alone, and a sweet dog’s a good thing anywhere. Kevin says he and Molly get along fine. What’s his name?”

“He doesn’t have one.”

“Oh, Naomi, you have to name him.”

“His owners could still—”

“How long since you brought him home?”

“We’re into week three.” Naomi sighed, rubbed the back of her neck. “He’s going in for neutering tomorrow. If you’re looking for a dog . . .”

“We have one, thanks. We are thinking of a puppy, a friend for Molly. And we want the kids to have the experience. Besides, Naomi. That’s your dog.”

Naomi looked in the rearview mirror, and the dog unquestionably smiled at her.

“He’s just living here for now.”

“Sure he is.”

Naomi narrowed her eyes, put on her sunglasses. “Which way?”

“Just head toward town, and I’ll guide you from there.”

She couldn’t think of the last time she’d shopped with a friend—or allowed herself a friend. For the most part she didn’t go shopping so much as go, hunt up what she needed, buy it, and take it home. Which baffled and disappointed her uncles.

Plus, she could hunt up and buy almost everything she needed online.

But since she was out and about, she’d stop by the hardware and buy the paint for Mason’s room—a warm mossy green—on the way back.

And she liked Jenny. She decided it was impossible not to like Jenny, who was cheerful and funny and didn’t ask probing questions.

She decided she really liked Jenny when her new friend directed her to a huge barn a few miles inland.

“I should’ve brought my camera.”

But she opened the compartment between the seats and took out a case.

“What’s that?”

“Lenses and filters for my camera phone.”

“Really? I didn’t know there were such things.”

“Works well in a pinch. And that barn—the texture of the wood, the true barn red with the white trim, that old apple tree, the light. It’s good.”

“Don’t you want to see what’s in the barn?”

“Absolutely. This won’t take long.”

She intended to leave the dog in the car. He had other ideas, so against her better judgment, Naomi pulled out the spare leash she’d stowed in the glove compartment.

“If you go, you wear this.”

He tried to stare her down. Failed.

“I’ll hold on to him while you take pictures.”

“Thanks. He hates the leash.”

“Wouldn’t you? It’s all right, sweetheart. We’ll think of it as you leading me.”

Perversely, the dog behaved perfectly for Jenny, walked happily beside her, sniffed his way to an appealing spot to lift his leg while Naomi composed shots, added lenses, adjusted filters.

She’d come back with her equipment, she promised herself. She’d love a gloomy day, that barn under gloomy skies.

She found more shots inside. The place went on forever, packed with everything under sun or gloom.

Glassware, tinware, collectibles, mirrors, chairs, desks.

In fact, she paused in front of one of the desks. She’d decided to go with new for a permanent desk—something that looked right with the bed, but had all the modern touches. Keyboard drawer, plugs, file drawers.

But.

It was nearly black from years—probably decades—of varnish, and the drawers stuck. It needed new hardware. It wasn’t at all what she’d decided on.

And it was perfect.

“The shape’s terrific,” Jenny said beside her. “Just enough curve at the corners. Plenty of drawers. It needs work.” Lips pursed, Jenny checked the tag. “And some bargaining.”

“It’s solid, sturdy. Mahogany. It needs to be stripped down to the original finish. It’s not what I was going for. And I really love it.”

“Don’t say you love it to Cecil—his place. Look doubtful when you ask him about it. You need a good chair—a new one—ergonomic, lumbar support. Kevin says you spend a lot of time at your desk.”

“Kevin’s right. The computer’s the darkroom today. Though I want to put an actual darkroom in. I still get the urge to shoot film sometimes. Is that a mermaid floor lamp?”