Chapter 52: Chapter Fifty-one
The day moved with small tasks. Mirabella served a few customers—a neighbor buying a small silver bracelet, a tourist who wanted a local charm, a young woman looking for a birthday present for her mother. Mirabella wrapped each purchase with care. She smiled and spoke with soft patience and kindness. She had a quiet way of making people feel seen. Rena sat on a small stool and played with a tiny rubber train. Her words came in lovely stumbles, “chug-chug!” and “train go vroom!”—and everyone in the shop hummed at the easy joy.
At one point, Mirabella’s thoughts wandered. She had somehow come across Daniel; her childhood friend. He'd told her initially that he didn't live in Maplewood hills, and that he relocated here because of a project assigned to him by the company he works for; Hudson River Renewable Energy Dam Project. A multi-year infrastructure project to build a hydroelectric dam and energy facility on the Hudson River.
She stood behind the counter and watched him place the little box of papers on the shelf. The town was small. People knew each other’s habits. They knew who to call for a ladder, who to trust with a cat, who would fix a pipe. This small life had steadied her after the early nights and the fear. Maplewood was quiet in a healing way.
Three years earlier, she had left a different life behind. She had left a man with dark ways and dangerous friends. She had cut the thread that tied her fast to fear. She had promised to keep Rena safe. Leaving had been the hardest thing she ever did. But the town had taken her in.
She tucked those memories away for a moment. She didn't let her mind wander anymore. She didn't want to think about him. Today, the air smelled like fresh coffee and warm bread. The bells jingled as more people came in.
After the last customer left that afternoon, the women rearranged the counter and polished glass. The small shop felt soft and bright. Rena climbed onto the side counter and tried to organize the little boxes like she was a shopkeeper herself. She made labels by drawing circles with her tiny crayon.
“Look mamaa! This one says ‘treasure’,” she announced.
“Good job, baby,” Mirabella said. She tucked a spare curl behind Rena’s ear. When she looked up, she saw Daniel watching them again. He looked unsure for a moment, as if he wanted to say something.
He walked closer. “Mira, do you need me to fix the window latch today?” he asked, nodding his head towards the window. “I can return after lunch.”
Mirabella hesitated a moment. “Don't you have to go to work today?" She knew Daniel was offering help because he cared. She felt guilty sometimes, having to let him do things for her. Since coming to Maplewood, she had worked hard to build a small life—she started working at Owen and Dorothy's shop. The couples were lovely and in their middle age. They both were tourists and like to travel a lot, so the shop was mostly managed by her and Beverly and sometimes Aria whenever she comes visiting. Old Joe keeps them company everyday too; by sitting by the window with his newspaper in hand.
“Today, I'm off. I just need to attend to something real fast and I will be back." He replied to her quickly.
“Oh, ok please,” Mirabella said. “If you don’t mind. The latch is loose and I don’t want Rena to push it.”
Daniel smiled, an honest, warm smile. “I’ll be back around two.” He reached down and straightened one of Rena’s little bows. “I can bring some sandwiches too. Mrs Elena makes good ones.”
Mirabella felt something lift inside her. She wanted to say ‘thank you’ in a way that would not sound small or ordinary. She swallowed. “Thank you, Daniel. That would be good.”
He nodded and then pretended to look stern. “But I am still in the race for the title of best godfather.”
Beverly gasped dramatically. “Hey! That's Owen's spot! You can’t just steal it.”
Aria laughed. “At least we girls aren't the only ones fighting for titles.”
The shop was filled with laughter. The sound settled against the walls and made everything feel easier.
They closed the shop for an hour. As usual, the group walked down the street to a little café with blue awnings. Rena sat between Mirabella and Aria and ate a small muffin that left chocolate on her chin. Old Joe joined them with a cup of coffee and a newspaper. Everyone shared a table in the sun. The town moved slowly. Mirabella listened as the women argued gently about who would host the next tea. They joked and planned.
When they returned to the shop, Mirabella felt a quiet peace. She loved these simple things—the small bills to balance, the laughter of the people who matter to her, the ringing of the doorbell. She loved Rena’s small hands and they moved little things here and there and the way her child said her name. She had learned to lock doors, to keep some things secret. For Rena’s sake, she kept the past like a small stone inside her pocket— only Aria knows everything and it was ok that way.
Daniel returned soon with his toolbox and two sandwiches wrapped in wax paper. He set the ladder under the window and went to work on the latch. He hummed as he tightened screws, and Rena watched with wide eyes.
“You make loud noises, ancle Danny!” Rena said, covering her ears in pretend fear. But when Daniel smiled at her, she returned a bigger one to him.
The latch fixed, Daniel stood back and looked at Mirabella. “There. That should hold for a while. If anything goes, call me. I’ll come by. Anytime.”
Mirabella felt her heart tightened. “Thank you,” she said again. The way Daniel cared was steady and simple. He did not ask questions. He offered hands and work.
That evening, the shop closed and the three women tidied up. Rena ran free among the cushions, singing little nonsense songs and making circles in the air with her tiny hands. She spoke in her small way—“mama, Auntie Bely, Auntie Aia, Danny, Joe!”—and then giggled.
The evening light had a soft glow. People walked past with bags and dogs. Mirabella cleaned the counter slowly. She watched Rena twirl, watched Aria and Beverly go about their own little fight about which cake flavors to use on Sunday;as they always ate dinner together on Sundays. Old Joe teased Daniel about his choice of tools. Everyone in the shop is almost weird except for her and Rena.
When it was time to lock the door, Mirabella zipped Rena’s jacket and put on her small hood. Aria picked Rena up and started the short journey, Beverly was soon on her heels demanding she let her carry Rena.
Daniel offered his arm to Mirabella. She hesitated for a breath, then accepted. He walked with them toward the small house down the lane where they lived. The walk was short. The air smelled like pine and sand. Rena fell asleep halfway, her head on Aria’s shoulder, small and warm.
Inside the compound, Mirabella paused. She looked at Daniel. The evening light painted his face soft gold.
“Thank you,” she said again. “For the latch. For today.”
Daniel looked down at her. “You don’t have to say thank you every time,” he said. “That’s what friends do.”
Mirabella smiled. “It means a lot.”
He hesitated, as if trying to find words that did not push too hard. “Mira,” he said softly, “you are doing a good job. Rena is lucky to have you as her mom.”
She looked away for a second and then back. “I try,” she said. It was the truth and also small.
Daniel’s eyes were steady. “If you ever need anything, a hand, a ride, company—you just call me. I’ll be here.”
Mirabella smiled and nodded.
They stood in the doorway for a moment. Before he bid his good bye and left.
Inside the house, Aria came out of Rena's room. “No noise. She is asleep," she whispered.
Mirabella nodded and went into the room. Rena shifted in the bed and opened one small eye. She gave a sleepy little smile.
“Mama, hug,” she mumbled, still half asleep.
Mirabella pressed her to her chest and breathed the damp little scent of sleep. She rubbed Rena’s back and felt the steady, sure thump of the child’s heart beneath her hand.
When she was sure Rena was asleep, she covered her tiny frame with the blanket, kissed her forehead and left the room quietly to the living room where Aria was waiting for her.