A Pocketful of Stardust

by J P Barnaby

  “Did you know my brother is a thief? I’m not sure why you would employ him,” Hope said by way of reply.

  “I’m sorry?” he asked, stunned at the quiet venom in her voice.

  “He stole a box from our late mother, one that the family would like to get back. Have him bring it to me and we’ll leave quietly,” Hope told him, even as her companion’s head jerked toward her. It seemed they weren’t on the same page about leaving quietly. Maybe they had instructions, and after seeing her brother, Hope wasn’t going to stay with the program.

  Then she looked up at him, and the man relaxed.

  Or she was lying.

  “I don’t know anything about a box, but if you’re going to threaten my barista, you can leave. Now.” He didn’t break her cold gaze, nor did she move.

  She simply watched him, and Noah saw her spine of steel. This was not the broken little girl he had pictured.

  “Officer Thompson is standing right there next to the magazines. Shall I call him over and have him ask you?” Noah charged, and then said a little prayer of thanks when they left with angry looks but no more trouble. He didn’t think for a moment that was the end of it, but it was another obstacle they had overcome.

  Noah popped behind the counter and grabbed a packet of hot chocolate. He put a hand on Kyle’s arm, a quiet show of support, and then filled his cup with hot water. He grabbed a second cup of water and a tea bag and headed back to the register.

  “Thank you, Noah,” Miss Edna said as he handed her the tea. “You’ve got quite a turnout here.” Her gaze swept the room from the kids playing around with the toys in the children’s section to Miss Norma surreptitiously checking out the romance novels. A few older folks were looking at the Christian section with Preacher Dan. His motions were animated as he pulled one book after another off the shelf and showed them to his congregation of three in the aisle.

  Ananda was dazzling children in the back with her crystals. Noah swore he saw her make a book disappear. Kids were raiding the shelves looking for magic books. Bless her.

  “This isn’t going to save you.”

  Noah set his cocoa down and turned to see Matt Handley standing next to the register, sober this time, in a baseball jersey and a wry smile. The jersey had started to get tight in the arms and around the chest, but Noah was sure Handley showed it off with pride. Vanity seemed to mean everything to the man.

  “We have a great selection of self-help books down that aisle,” Noah said loudly, wafting his hand vaguely to his right. “Lots on moral superiority—you should check them out.” He was done taking shit from Handley. If he was going to go down, it wasn’t going to be with Matt Handley’s boot on his neck. Fuck him.

  “You’re fifty grand in the hole and you think pie is going to help? You should be packing this place up to be sold,” Handley growled in response.

  “What, you want pie? I think Miss Norma has some excellent choices in that self-help section,” Noah said, pointing again. Miss Norma looked up at the movement and waved at him. He waved back.

  “I’m not the one with the dough-boy physique,” Handley countered and stormed out the front door.

  “I don’t know who is more unpleasant, him or your uncle James,” Miss Edna commented as she took another sip of her tea. “But I’d like some of that pie, so I think I’m going to go see Miss Norma.” Her quiet laugh galvanized his soul.

  “Bring me a slice of pumpkin?” Noah asked.

  “Now that’s the spirit.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “YOU’RE SURE Henry won’t mind if I stay up here?”

  Noah glanced around the empty room. “I can’t figure out why he would. It’s not like you’re taking over or kicking him out or anything.”

  “He doesn’t like me.”

  “That’s because you said he was evil.” Noah shrugged. “You both know better now.” He plugged in the pump for the queen-sized double-height air mattress and turned it on. “I wish we could get you a better bed, but right now we can’t afford for your sister and that guy to see us moving furniture in here.”

  “They’ll probably figure it out anyway.” Kyle sat on the floor, cross-legged. “They’ve seen me here, and once they find out I’m not staying with Miss Sarah anymore….”

  “That’s why you need to make sure the doors are locked and the alarm is set before you go to bed. The blinds in the parlor are closed, but the ones in the hall are broken. I never thought to have them fixed before now since no one was up here.” Noah chewed his lip anxiously.

  “I’ll be careful not to show much light. Just enough to read by.”

  “The kitchen’s pretty safe—there’s no windows in there and you can close the door. Plus you have the table and chairs, so you have someplace to sit. Don’t go out into the main part of the bookstore—you’ll set off the alarm.”

  “He can sit in the parlor, if he likes.” Henry’s voice was doubtful. “As long as he doesn’t preach at me. Or try to exorcise me or anything. No bell, book, or candle around here.”

  “Well, we need candles in case of a power outage, and you really can’t escape books around here, but why would you want to? And what’s the bell for?”

  Henry rolled his eyes. “Do you know?” he demanded of Kyle.

  “No….”

  “Those are the traditional accoutrements of an exorcism.”

  “What’s an ‘oh-coot-tray-mont’?”

  Henry winked out of existence. Kyle said, “See? He doesn’t like me.”

  “You just frustrate him. Besides, it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t like you—he won’t hurt you. And I like you… a lot.”

  Kyle smiled shyly. “I like you a lot too.”

  Noah reached over and drew him up into his arms. He fit so perfectly, his head resting on Noah’s shoulder and the clean soap smell of him in Noah’s nose. They stood there a long moment; then Noah drew back and kissed Kyle before bending to turn off the pump. They made up the bed with the sheets Noah had snuck over from the house and threw a thick comforter Sarah had contributed over the top. It was starting to get cold at night.

  “Okay. The fridge doesn’t seem to be working, but the hot water is on the same line as the bookstore, so your bathroom should work. I guess depending on how long you’re gonna stay here, we can start moving over some other stuff like a teapot and a pot to make soup in or something. At least it’s not too dusty.”

  “Of course not,” Henry said, rematerializing in the room. “I keep a clean house, even if it’s not mine anymore. What kind of music do you like, boy?”

  “Um… I don’t know. We didn’t have much except hymns, and they weren’t ones I’ve ever heard anywhere else.” Kyle shrugged. “Ours had much more death and destruction in them. Not so much glory of God, more ‘God will smite our enemies, hallelujah.’”

  “Merciful heavens. And when there are so many beautiful spiritual songs. I’ll have to play some of the records I have. We can go through them and see what ones are salable for Noah, at any rate.” He faded out again, leaving the hummed strains of “Shall We Gather at the River” echoing behind him.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

  “You will. I’ve only known him a few weeks longer than you, and I hardly even notice anymore.”

  They went downstairs again and Noah flipped over the Open sign. “Fire up the kettle, Maw, and git that coffee boilin’.”

  “You should never boil coffee,” Kyle said soberly. “It makes for bitterness.”

  “Well, there’s enough bitterness in this building right now.” Noah went behind the counter and started organizing the stuff there. “There’s some stuff left from yesterday’s bake sale—why don’t you add it to the cart?”

  “Any more of those lemon bars? That would make an awesome breakfast.”

  “Look at you!” Noah said, mock admiringly. “Using words like awesome.”

  “Oh, hush.” Kyle stalked back into the office and came out a few minutes later with a laden
tray of pastries. “Just for that, no lemon bars for you.”

  “Seriously?”

  “No. There are a few left. Since they’re a day old, should I sell these or give them away?”

  “Sell ’em, but only charge a dollar instead of the three they were going for yesterday. Worst-case scenario, we’ll eat ’em for dinner tonight.” Noah poked at his soft middle. “Though to be honest, I need to lay off the sweets. I always have a problem with my weight, and I haven’t had time or enough energy to go running lately. Plus people are always making me eat—you’d think I was wasting away instead of getting fat!”

  “You’re not fat!” Kyle was horrified.

  Noah poked his middle again. “Fat,” he confirmed.

  “Give it up, son.” Henry appeared and spoke to Kyle. “He’s got anorexia or something.”

  “I so do not! Okay, I weigh what I should for my height, but it’s all mushy.”

  Kyle and Henry rolled their eyes at the same time, the expressions on their faces identical. Noah had to laugh despite himself.

  “Haul a few more boxes of books,” Henry advised. “That’ll toughen you up.”

  The door chimes rang and Henry vanished.

  YESTERDAY’S BAKE sale had apparently whetted local interest in the coffee stand, so despite it being a Monday, there was a steady stream of shoppers. Some lingered to talk to Kyle and Noah, some left with packages of pastry, and some actually bought books. There was only one accident involving coffee, and it was a spill onto a rug Noah had always disliked. They moved a little table over the spot and kept on working.

  When they closed up that evening, Kyle was damp with sweat from the heat of the coffee and the activity, but he was beaming. “Twenty-two dollars in tips! That’s almost as good as in Chicago!”

  “I wish it would last.” Noah made a face. “How did the pastries go?”

  “They’re gone. They were a big hit despite being a day old. Maybe we should offer those on a regular basis.” Kyle dug in his cashbox. “I set that money aside. We made another thirty-six dollars on the pastries. And we got enough from the coffee sales to cover another shipment of those organic beans.”

  “Well, we made about twenty-five hundred yesterday and another thousand today, so we’re about a third of the way there. I don’t think we’re going to make it in time,” Noah observed, finishing up the books.

  “We will, but right now, boy, am I tired!”

  “Yeah, me too. I gotta get home and let Jake out. He’s probably crossing his legs.”

  “Poor Jake.”

  “Yeah. I should probably start bringing him to the store, but then he’s just cooped up here. And he’s not fond of the cat. Speaking of being cooped up—did you want me to run over to the diner and get you something for dinner?”

  “Oh, would you mind? I’m kind of starving.”

  “If I brought Jake to work, I could have dinner with you in the evenings. We might even be able to cook if we got some supplies in upstairs.”

  “I would love it if you would cook with me. I do know how. It wasn’t considered ‘men’s work,’ but I used to watch Mama and the other wives when they were doing it, and when the men weren’t around, they would teach me. I couldn’t do it where the men could see.”

  “Wow. Toxic masculinity in action.”

  “Yeah. Miss Sarah lets me cook sometimes, but she’s so good it’s kind of intimidating. I’d never be able to bake as well as she does. But I’m learning a few Georgia recipes, like barbeque and grits and biscuits and gravy. Mm. I love biscuits and gravy.”

  Noah closed out the register. It had slowed down later in the afternoon, so he’d been able to balance the books already. “Funny thing about biscuits and gravy. I dated a guy in New York once that was from England. We got to talking about our favorite foods, and when I mentioned biscuits and gravy, he almost puked.”

  “Why?”

  “Because in England, they call cookies ‘biscuits,’ and he thought I was talking about cookies and gravy.”

  “Ew! That’s disgusting!”

  Noah laughed. “I thought it was hilarious. Especially when they have food they call things like ‘toad in the hole’ and ‘bubble and squeak’ and ‘spotted dick.’”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. It’s not really a toad or a dick—thank God! It’s like sausages and stuff. But they have weird shit over there. I take it you want biscuits and gravy for dinner?”

  “If they have any. I know it’s more a breakfast food.”

  “If Jessie is there, she’ll make it for you. They might be frozen biscuits, but you won’t know the difference. Her mama is another awesome cook.”

  NOAH CHECKED carefully around the diner before he went up to order from Jessie, just to make sure Hope and the guy weren’t around. He did the same as he left the diner a few minutes later, feeling like a spy as he slipped into the store via the back door.

  Kyle was waiting. “Thanks. Did you get anything?”

  “Yeah, a club sandwich. I gotta go let Jake out.” He leaned over and kissed Kyle. “Enjoy your dinner. I gave you the Wi-Fi password for the tablet, right?” He had lent Kyle the tablet so he could watch some movies in the evening when Noah wasn’t there.

  “You did. And I thought Henry might not mind if I looked at some of the stuff in the parlor. It looks interesting.”

  “And maybe if you were interested, he might be a little nicer to you?”

  Kyle gave Noah his sweet smile. “Couldn’t hurt.”

  Noah had to kiss him again. “I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll bring breakfast.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “YOU WANT to get some dinner before you go up?” Noah asked as he finished counting twenties from the register the next night. He added the total to the spreadsheet on the laptop and grabbed the tens. It took a long time each night to match the till against what they sold because of the manual process. Once he got everything straightened out with the bank, he really needed to figure out some updated equipment, or at least software for the laptop. He had one of those little card readers, but it was so slow with their Wi-Fi. Ah well, one battle at a time.

  He added another couple thousand to the total in his special spreadsheet, the one that would tell him if he’d still have a home in just over a month.

  “No, I’m tired. I think I’m going to read for a while and go to bed.”

  Noah didn’t look up from where he grabbed a few supplies from the storage area for the next morning. They were starting to get a few coffee addicts trickling in for some of Kyle’s “fancy coffee.”

  “What are you reading?” Noah moved on to the singles.

  “Harry Potter.”

  Noah’s head jerked up. “I thought you didn’t read fiction.”

  “I never had any. Now I’m surrounded by shelves and shelves of it.” He set aside a sleeve of cups.

  “And you started with a story about witchcraft?” He didn’t want to appear too excited, because Kyle should make his own literary decisions, but it would be great to sit and talk to him about all the amazing worldbuilding and subplots as he got through each book. They hadn’t talked much since Hope showed up, and he didn’t know how to help.

  “A friend recommended it.”

  Noah smiled at Kyle before hefting his box and heading toward the coffee bar. “He must be a smart friend.”

  “She. Miss Sarah loves it,” Kyle called over his shoulder. Noah’s sound of protest just made him laugh, and it was a delight to hear.

  Noah finished with the change and smiled when both totals came down to within a dime of each other. That was close enough for him. Plus or minus a dollar was good with him, though a year of that would be a much larger disparity. He’d work it out, assuming he didn’t have to sell.

  “I’m gonna head up,” Kyle said, giving Noah a small peck as he went by. They’d been doing that a lot lately, just small tokens of affection.

  “Do you need anything from the kitchen? I’m going to hit the alarm as I go
out.”

  “No, Henry talked me through getting the refrigerator upstairs to work. Nothing else does, but that’s okay. It’s clean and safe—better than some places I’ve lived.” Kyle shrugged and headed toward the stairs.

  Noah wanted to ask about those places, but deep down, he didn’t think he’d want to know. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Noah locked the till in the safe and headed for the door. He had to decide what he’d be having for dinner. Maybe he’d stop by the diner and talk to Miss Jessie a bit about buying their pastries for the coffee bar.

  Headlights caught his vision, and Noah looked up to see the truck drive past again. It looked like they were waiting for Kyle to come out.

  They’d have a long wait.

  Miss Jessie wasn’t working, so he picked up a burger for himself and grabbed a grilled chicken sandwich for Jake, who greeted him at the door with paws up and mouth open.

  “Dude, I get it,” Noah said with a laugh and pushed the big dog back. Jake sniffed the bag all the way into the kitchen and then dropped his furry butt to the floor in a perfect sit.

  “Show-off.” Noah pulled the sandwiches out and opened up the wrapper for the chicken. He ripped each bun into chunks and then the chicken before tossing a piece of meat for Jake to catch. Then he leaned over and dropped the whole mess into Jake’s steel food bowl. He grinned around his burger at the appreciative noises coming from under the table.

  Yeah, there were worse things than being here with that big lug at his feet. He’d been back in Georgia for almost a month to the day, and he’d already started to forget the sharper, shiny points of New York. Seeing and being seen every Saturday night didn’t seem important anymore. Hanging out on the couch with a pup in his lap and a book in his hand felt right. Kyle felt right. The bookstore felt right. These things felt more right and more comfortable than he’d been in New York.

  He finished the book he’d been reading about small business and wandered upstairs to brush his teeth and crawl into bed. The big bedroom at the end of the hall still loomed like a shadow over him, empty and overwhelming, so Noah turned left before he reached it and grabbed his toothbrush from the cup. He’d just put the paste on his brush when his phone started to ring, and he pulled it from his pocket and checked the display.