Page 48 of Recipe for Rivals
Or so I hoped. We were getting a late start because of the game, but given how these Spring Clean Saturdays went in Beeler, I was pretty positive there would be plenty left. As long as Jack was the only furniture restorer who swept in and tookall the good things, like the eight armoires Tucker had to move.
“Should we narrow down the list a little, talk priorities?”
“Honestly?” she breathed, looking at me. Her brown eyes were relaxed, and she tucked loose hair behind both ears. “A couch would be ideal. A kitchen table and chairs would be nice too—and I don’t want to hear anything about what I said about the counter, okay?”
I put up one hand in surrender, keeping the other on the wheel. “I won’t say anything about being right.”
She shook her head, but her smile was beautiful. “What do you think, Alice? Anything else?”
“A pink couch.”
“Well, you can’t be picky at garage sales, babe. We’ll see what they have.”
“Would you settle for purple?” I asked. “Or maroon?”
“Pink,” Alice whispered.
I looked at the monkey carefully buckled into the seatbelt beside her through my rearview mirror. “If we can’t find pink, can I convince you to approve of a red couch?”
“Red?” Nova asked. Her tastes seemed to run neutral and plain. I’d seen her in nothing but jeans and plain T-shirts since she’d moved here. Always the same sneakers, always her hair in a ponytail. This was the first time I’d seen her hair down, falling around her shoulders, and it softened her in a way. “I would be very surprised if we find a red couch.”
“You never know what you’re going to get at garage sales. Don’t count anything out yet.”
Nova glanced at me briefly before turning her attention back to Alice. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a yellow couch covered in Minions with banana pillows.”
I glanced in my rearview mirror in time to see Alice’s face scrunch in a giggle, her eyes lighting up. “I changed my mind. I don’t want a pink couch. I want a Minion one.”
“Never say never, I guess.”
There wereno Minion-themed couches to be seen, but as we drove down Manning Street, there were certainly a number of colored sofa options. I’d chosen this particular neighborhood because it ran higher-middle class—there was no one willing to let go of well-used furniture for cheap like a housewife trying to upgrade her living room. We were the ones doing them the favor by getting the bulky things off their hands.
“Remember,” I said to Nova as we parked. “Appear ready to walk away, even if you love it.”
“You’re a haggler, aren’t you?” she asked.
“I’ve been garage-sale-ing my whole life. There’s a science to getting a good deal.”
She looked at me, then nodded. “Should we come up with a code so we can communicate around the sellers without giving away what we think?”
I pulled a stick of gum from the center console and popped it in my mouth, trying to gauge if she was serious or not, then offered her one. She refused. “How about the Cowboys? We can discuss going to a game. If you like the couch, you want to go. If you don’t like it, you want to get rid of the tickets.”
“That would work if it was football season.”
Well, she had me there. “Dinner, then?” I asked. Her face tightened, so I hurried to reassure her. “There’s a new pizza place in town called Stone. We can debate whether you want to eat there. You can communicate howhungryyou are for the couch.”
“That works.”
“If you hate it, just say you want to eat Chad’s burgers.”
Nova laughed, the sound sudden and sharp like she had surprised herself. “You don’t play fair.”
I looked at her. “I’m always fair.”
She held my gaze for a beat before hopping out of the truck and going to help Alice. They walked hand in hand to meet me on the sidewalk, Alice holding her pink monkey under her arm.
I offered Alice a piece of gum, which she took, her cheeks blooming with color.
“What do you say?” Nova prompted.