The great thing about working at the antique shop where I do, is that I get to sleep in without consequences. I love not having to show up at nine in the morning in order to open shop. Mr. Griffin does that just fine. In fact, he made sure to tell me that he likes to be alone when he opens the shop, for reasons he omitted to disclose, but frankly, I am not complaining. I just make sure to arrive an hour late to work everyday. I know, it's a dream come true for many people.
Today, however, this perk had another merit, since I got the time to go replace my deceased phone with a brand new one. I also decided to get pepper spray while I was at it.
"Morning Rosemary," his raspy and feeble voice fills the space as soon as I step through the front door. The not-so-great thing about working at this antique shop in particular, is having no way to avoid the looks that Mr. Griffin gives me. He looks at me like I am… I don't even know how to accurately describe it. Like I am a complete and utter pathetic failure? No, perhaps a lost soul? A nice way to say it would be that he seems to feel sorry for me. I believe I know why but… I prefer not to think about it.
"Morning to you too, Mr. Griffin," I answer with as much energy as I can muster, which… Isn't much at all.
"You're early today," he notes as he drags his tired feet along when he moves. the ancient looking suit on his back, reminds me of the very first time I walked into this place. I'd almost mistaken him for one of the Antiques being sold here. This isn't just to say that he's old, being in his seventies, but the way he chooses to dress does make him look like he's straight out of a previous era.
"I just had a few things to do around town this morning, and I was quick so that might explain it," true. I notice that I came at least twenty minutes earlier than usual, hoping I did not interrupt his solitary morning routine or whatever.
"I see. Right, I'll be upstairs. I trust you'll care for things around here in my absence," he announces and turns towards the stairs before I even respond.
"Yes. I will do," I mutter as he's already halfway out of my sight.
I opt to dust things off as a first task to accomplish after this long… Long weekend. On second thought, sleeping in every morning isn't the only great thing about working here. I love the coziness of this room that is made visibly smaller by the number of things present in it. It's like walking into a slightly larger and cleaner grandmother's basement. There's this odd and yet lovely smell in the air that results from the mixture of multiple odors coming from each object, even though they've been cleansed. The scent of "once upon older times" remains… I like being here the same way I like standing between the shelves that carry the weight of old books. They offer a unique experience without even being opened.
Thinking about unique experiences, my mind drifts off and back towards everything that happened yesterday and the night before it. So much in such a small frame of time. My eyes fall on my bag, where I keep the bracelet that Avery gave me. I'd forgotten to give it back but, it's in my best interest to keep it anyway. It might come in handy when I most need it. One can never know with all these shifters and whatnot crawling around.
To think that all of it started because Nathanael went to visit this relative of his… Adeline. There's even more mystery around her now that I know what happened to her. Well, I'd like to think I know what happened to her but… I am not betting an eye on it. If she was truly attacked by a witch like I think she was, then it must have happened somewhere close to Grimesbrook. She's a Whitemane, not a Ferwulf, which means she was traveling here too. She must have been found by a human, that's the only way that explains her being taken to the hospital instead of another facility or place that is more secure and safer for her kind.
I just wish I could spill it all out to Izzy, at least. This is the first thing that I haven't been able to share with her. It's odd… The burden of knowing something I shouldn't. Something that can easily bring harm to people around me. I never truly thought about it or… I never really had to think about it. This loneliness is something I didn't have to go through even after cutting ties with my father. Izzy made it so much easier for me. Talking to her last night, hearing her apologize… Was all I needed to feel good at the time.
Speaking of feeling good, my thoughts travel away from Izzy towards the second person I don't mind thinking about all that much. Nathanael did say that we would see each other again after my suggestion but… Perhaps he was just being polite. Yesterday was a clear demonstration of the many ways staying in contact with me could end in a disaster. I wouldn't blame him if he decides to never show his face to me again, even though I wish he would. Not just for the reasons I'd previously stated to him… No, I don't just want information out of him.
Despite the feeling of walking on thin Ice I constantly harbored, I… Genuinely enjoyed his company distinctly remembering the way his eyes lit up when I asked him about his kind. It almost felt contradicting to their ways. Their rules and laws as supernatural creatures. He seemed almost too eager to answer my questions. Although, the way he switches when someone he knows is around concerns me. Nathanael is the eldest son of this alpha Erolina, and thus by default a candidate as her successor… This would only mean that I was right from the beginning; he enjoys the company of someone that doesn't expect him to act… Like a future alpha.
The sound of the front door to the shop opening and closing, plucks me out of my thoughts right as I reach the back of the shop. I walk towards the potential customers, wishing Mr. Griffin would allow me to install a bell above the door, which he keeps refusing to do. After slaloming between mountains of antiques, I spot the two people standing at the counter. A young-looking man and a woman. They don't immediately notice me, quietly murmuring among themselves, something that I can't catch from a distance.
"Morning to you. What can I interest you with?" smiling as I go behind the counter where I can face them.
My heart aches when I recognize the woman to be none other than Mary Morgan. Struck by the tragedy of losing both of her sons who were kind enough to help in a search party, a little over a week ago. She is dressed very conservatively, as though afraid someone will see through her if they glimpse any parcel of her skin. Even her hands are gloved, the only thing I can see of her is her face.
The young man, on the other hand, I can't seem to remember. Either that, or he's from out of town. He appears to be in his early twenties, around the same age as one of Mary's sons. He might just be one of her relatives who came to visit during these tough times but… Something about his smile doesn't sit right with me. It's like he thinks he's about to win the lottery.
"I would like to… Sell one of my possessions," my attention falls back on her when she speaks, "I believe it is an object that will interest to Mr. Griffin very much," she sounds hesitant, and the way she hugs her brown paper bag with both mildly shaky hands as though she does not want to separate from it, does not negate that assumption.
Still, she sets it on top of the counter before removing the bag to reveal a stunningly beautiful, queen Anne style clock straight from the 1880s. I am absolutely no expert. In fact, I have only begun to learn about antiquities after starting work here, which is a little less than two months. However, I can tell that this one has a tortoiseshell mantel. Its handle and toupee feet are made out of gilt bronze. I have no passion for possessing or collecting antiques, but surely, Mr. Griffin will agree that this is a delight to the eyes.
"Do you think I can get an appraisal for it, please?" her wavering voice steals the shine away from my smile. Mary seems even more hesitant than she was a few minutes ago.
The young man puts his hand on hers and attempts to reassure her, "Hey! Don't worry about it. It'll all be fine. You'll see," his words say one thing but the impression he gives is on a different extreme of the spectrum. His smile seems even faker than it was when I first laid eyes on him.
Mary doesn't react much, she merely cracks a feeble smile that further showcases her unease about something.
At this point I think I am able to paint a vague picture of the situation. Mary is all and completely alone now that her children are gone. Her husband's been dead for over six years now. I don't know about any extended family but right now, she is the perfect target for heartless vultures. Especially one that will remind her of what she lost very recently… I might be reaching. Body language is hardly a matter of fact, cut and dry science but… my entire brain is triggering red flag alarms. I have rarely been wrong in my judgments.
I take a deep breath and quickly blurt out the first thing I can think of saying, with the biggest, brightest smile I could afford to fake, "Alright then, I'll bring it to Mr. Griffin right away. He'll do his magic, and I'll run back in here with his answer. Does that sound alright with you?"
She is reluctant but she agrees. I put on white cotton gloves then proceed to carefully pick the clock up. It's practically the size of a medium lunch box, so it isn't very heavy. I move up the stairs and turn left before finding myself in Mr. Griffin's little study, which… Looks a bit more like an organized attic than an office.
I explain the situation and he pretty much confirms the legitimacy of the item. He starts to stand up from his chair; he likes to meet the owner of the antiques he buys in person, but I quickly lay a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to sit back down. He gives me a puzzled look and waits for my explanation, "I know you'd like to buy it from her but… I would like to handle this one myself. I won't do anything rash, I promise. I just want to make sure she really wants to sell and that she's not being taken advantage of,"
"You think you are a better judge of character than me?" his right eyebrow rises questioningly.
"No, no! That's not what…I…," again, I am good at bullshitting, but not when I am taken by surprise. Mr. Griffin does that often and I don't think I want to get used to it. I think deep down, I like the surprise.
he cuts me off with a chuckle, "I am just pulling your leg. If you want to handle this one, then you can have it. I don't mind," he turns and sets his attention back on whatever he was doing before I disturbed him.
I was surprised that he agreed but I didn't linger. I picked the clock up in my hands again and left it on the table behind Mr. Griffin's desk. He didn't question my action so I headed towards the stairs where I am currently standing. Stuck in my tracks, fishing for a convincing excuse to not buy the clock today, while keeping it in the shop until I make sure she's not being scammed.
I run towards the counter with an even bigger smile on my face after I'd finally picked a poison, "I have great news and a bit of bad news," I dial down my excitement towards the end of my sentence.
Mary remains silent but looks concerned at the sight of my clock free hands, "According to what Mr. Griffin said; the clock is worth over two thousand dollars!" I can almost see dollar signs printed in the young man's eyes at the mention of the price, "Mr. Griffin says he can purchase it from your hands. The only issue is, he noticed a bit a malfunction when he was doing the appraisal,"
"Are you sure?" the young man jumps in before Mary could say anything.
"I am fairly sure that I kept the clock in a pristine condition, I… I… Don't know how that can happen…," she sounded almost afraid. Like she was trying to prove that she wasn't to blame.
I feel my heart rate accelerate a tad in my chest, I understand the anger building up inside me, but I can't rip his head off without tangible proof. Furthermore, if the situation is what I fear it is then I should refrain from being hostile towards him. She's going to want to protect him even more.
"Oh! No! Please don't worry. He said that it wasn't something that the untrained eye can see. Even I, didn't notice it. He says it's about the large hand, the one that indicates minutes that is faulty. He says it moves a tad slower than it should," Bullshit on top of bullshit. I don't even know where I am coming up with such nonsense to say.
"So, what is the solution?" she asks.
"He says he really wants to buy it, but only if you leave the clock with him so that he can fix it. You know Mr. Griffin as well as I do and I trust him. If he says he's the only one that can fix it, then he probably is," I reassure her.
"How long will that take?" the clearly forged smile he's had on all this time, fades away a little when he asks that question. Obviously impatient… He wants the money now.
I take the high road and smile back at him, "It should take a day, at most two," I turn towards Marry, "I think if you take it to other shops, they will either refuse to buy it or they will lowball you with like… Fifty dollars maximum,"
She looks in his direction. It seems that the roles are completely reversed now, and that he's the one speaking for her, "Right, that sounds cool. Doesn't it?" It looks to me like he almost forgot to pretend that he cared about her opinion.
Marry agrees to it, like I expected her to once I saw the excitement of the young man. They both leave the shop, which means I can finally let out a sigh of relief.
"A despicable human being, don't you think?" I jump in my spot upon hearing that smooth, deep yet feminine voice. I flip around myself to find the source of it only to freeze at her sight. She is tall, gorgeous and very rich looking. She might have come into the shop when I was upstairs… But what does she mean with her words?
"I am sorry for startling you this way. I don't interact with humans much, but I really had to meet you myself and see what this fuss is all about?" she adds in a tone that can possibly cure insomnia.
Human? Is she…?
"You're a shifter… And not any shifter by the way you look…," my mouth agape at the end of my sentence, staring at her in anticipation, completely absorbed… Like she's about to perform a mind-blowing magic trick.
"You have good eyes on you, and a fairly good head on your shoulders. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. He picked you for a reason," she says.
He…? Nathanael…?