Abe must have interpreted her worried expression, because he laughed. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, it was nice listening to some bickering between sisters. Ours have grown up, gotten hitched, and moved out, you know. I spend a lot of time with my sons at the shop, but they have the nerve to get along.”
Piper stooped down to help Abe put everything back in his toolbox. “So . . . um.” She lowered her voice several octaves. “Do you know Captain Taggart well?”
Her sister snorted.
“Everyone knows the captain, but he does like to keep to himself. Doesn’t do a lot of jawing, just comes into the shop and buys what he needs. In and out.” Abe slapped his knee and stood. “He’s downright focused.”
“He is,” Piper agreed, thinking a little too long and hard about those green-and-silver eyes. How they tried so hard to stay above her neck. When Abe cleared his throat, she realized she’d been staring into space. “Sorry. Let me help you down the stairs.”
“I’ll be on my way,” Abe said when they’d reached the first level, a smile wreathing his mouth. “Say, have you gone to see Opal yet?”
Opal. Opal.
Piper rooted around her memory bank for that name. Hadn’t Mick Forrester mentioned an Opal and written down the woman’s address? Why did everyone think she would visit this person? Obviously, she needed to get some answers. “Um, no. Not just yet.”
He seemed a little disappointed, but hid it quickly. “Right. Well, it was nice to meet you, Piper. Don’t forget to give me a wave when you see me outside the museum.”
“I won’t.” She handed him the toolbox carefully, making sure he could take the weight. While watching him head for the door, his feet shuffling, the stiffness in his legs obvious, an idea occurred. “Hey, Abe. I’ve got a pretty flexible schedule here, and the museum is only a quick walk. So . . . like, I don’t know, if you wanted to sit outside and read your paper more than twice a week, I could walk over and help you climb the porch.”
Why was she nervous this little old man was going to turn her down?
Is this what a man felt when he asked for her number?
Her nerves settled when Abe turned to her with a hopeful expression. “You would do that?”
“Sure,” she said, surprised by how nice it felt to be useful. “Friday morning? I could meet you outside the hardware store after my run.”
He winked. “It’s a date.”
* * *
Hannah had sworn off booze, so they avoided any more trips to the winery. Instead, they cleaned. Even put up some green-and-white striped curtains in the apartment. On Brendan’s suggestion, they visited the lighthouse and took a day trip to the beach, although the abundance of rocks and the need for a sweatshirt by three p.m. made it nothing like the coastline in California. Still, Piper found herself relaxing, enjoying herself, and the rest of the week went by faster than expected.
She went out on her run Friday morning, finishing up outside the hardware store where Abe waited, a rolled-up newspaper tucked under his arm. He peppered her with questions about life in Los Angeles on the walk over to the maritime museum—he was yet another man who’d rarely ventured outside of Westport—and she left him in the Adirondack chair with a promise to meet him again tomorrow morning.
Piper walked down to the end of one of the docks in the harbor and dangled her feet over the side, looking out at the wide mouth of the Pacific.
What was Brendan doing at that very moment?
She’d kind of hoped distance and time would rid her of the adamant tingle she felt every time she thought of him. But three days had passed, and his image still popped into her mind with annoying regularity. This morning, she’d woken up with a start, jerked into an upright position, and the memory foam had blocked her forehead from ramming into the upper bunk. And she’d drifted back down to her pillow with an enamored sigh.
Was he thinking about her?
“Ugh, Piper.” She surged to her feet at the end of the dock. “Get your life together.” She needed another distraction. Another way to absorb some time, so her thoughts wouldn’t keep drifting back to Brendan.
Maybe now was a good time to solve the mystery of this Opal character.
Piper had taken a picture of the address Mick gave her outside No Name, and she scrolled to it now, tapping it with her thumb. Distraction achieved. She’d told Mick she’d visit the woman, and with a whole day in front of her, there was no time like the present.
She punched the address into her map app, snorting to herself when she arrived after a mere two minutes of walking. Opal lived in an apartment building overlooking Grays Harbor, and it was kind of weird, buzzing someone’s apartment without calling ahead of time, but the vestibule door unlocked immediately. With a shrug, Piper took the elevator to the fifth floor and knocked on the door of apartment 5F.