Lone Star Holiday Proposal

“Egg cups,” he said abruptly after racking his brain and coming up with the first thing he could remember. “She loves English china egg cups.”

Raina’s smile returned. “Oh, then you’re in luck. I have a few you can choose from.”

She gestured for him to follow her across the broad plank flooring of the store toward a glass-fronted display cabinet. Selecting a key from the chain she kept hooked at the waistband of her jeans, she opened the cabinet and pointed out the exquisite pieces.

“These two are English. One Staffordshire, which as you can see comes with a salt pot and pepper shaker in the stand, and the other is Royal Winton, hazel pattern, with the toast rack, as well. This one here, though, is French.”

She pointed to a delicately patterned gold-edged porcelain tray with six matching egg cups arrayed around a carry handle in the shape of a porcelain chick.

“Good grief,” Nolan exclaimed. “And people use these?”

“Well, given their age it’s safe to say people more likely used these in the past, while they collect and display them now. Would you like me to lift them out so you can take a closer look?”

Nolan nodded and bent to peer at them when Raina put them on top of a nearby sideboard. As he studied them, Raina gave him a little commentary.

“The Staffordshire piece certainly looks the more sturdy, doesn’t it?” she asked. “This one is from the nineteenth century.”

“So old?”

She laughed. “Well, this is an antiques store.”

He found himself smiling back at her and this time there was no mistaking the dilation of her pupils or the slight blush of pink on her cheeks as they made eye contact. She was attracted to him, he knew it as well as he knew the face that greeted him in the mirror every time he shaved.

“Good point,” he conceded as she briskly looked away. “Which one is your favorite?”

She hesitated a moment before speaking. “While the Staffordshire is an exceptional example, with no chips or cracks, and the Royal Winton is also, I prefer the whimsy of the French pieces. Yes, they’re a little more worn, but that comes with use and for me, use brings character to a piece. I like to imagine the family who might have enjoyed these egg cups, the children who might have touched the chick coming out of its china eggshell as they enjoyed their breakfast.”

She gave an embarrassed laugh. “But then, that’s me. And you said your mom collects English china, didn’t you?

He nodded. “Maybe it’s time she diversified across the channel to France, as well.”

He studied the pieces again and then gave a decisive nod. “The French one it is.”

“Nolan, you didn’t even ask me how much it is!”

He shrugged. “Does it matter? It’s for my mom. She’ll love it, and probably for the exact same reasons you do.”

Raina nodded in acceptance and then carefully put the other two breakfast sets back in the cabinet.

“Would you like me to gift wrap it for you?” she asked, carrying the tray to the counter.

“Please. And double the bubble wrap for me, would you? I’m terrified that I’ll break it before I give it to her.”

Raina eyed him teasingly. “You don’t strike me as a careless man.”

“Accidents happen,” he said without thinking, his voice sharper than he intended. He knew that for a truth...all too well.

“Bubble wrap it is then. Plus I think I have a box out back that would be perfect. Would that suit you?” she said, picking up on his change in mood and making her tone more businesslike than before.

“Thank you,” he replied, determined to inject more warmth into his voice. “I really appreciate it. Mom will be thrilled, I’m sure.”

“I’m glad. It’s always nice to know things will continue to be appreciated when they leave here. I kind of feel like a custodian for them, you know. Like I have a responsibility to the original craftsmen and -women to see that their hard work continues to be loved as it changes hands.”

Her words summed her up perfectly, he thought. She cared about things and about people. So why then did she keep herself so aloof? It was time to find out.

“I imagine that you don’t get a lot of time to yourself,” he said leaning against the scarred countertop that looked as if it had seen many years of service somewhere in its life. “What with the store and JJ and all.”

She kept her head bent and her attention on her task but he saw the slight change in her posture. As if she was shoring up her defenses.