Something Old, Something New


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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 Contents
 
 Cover
 Title Page
 Dedication
 Contents
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 twenty-eight
 twenty-nine
 thirty
 epilogue
 Discussion Questions
 Acknowledgments
 About the Author
 Praise for Amy Clipston
 Other Books by Amy Clipston
 Copyright
 
 
 
 
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 Guide
 
 Cover
 Contents
 one
 
 
 
 
 Dedication
 
 
 For my wonderful editor, Laura Wheeler, with love
 
 
 
 
 
 one
 
 Christine flipped the front-door sign to Open as she hummed along with Cyndi Lauper singing “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”
 Her favorite ’80s satellite radio station poured through her store’s wall-mounted speakers, and after taking a moment to appreciate
 both her air-conditioning and the early morning sun streaming through the large windows, she turned to scan the business she’d
 established nearly four years ago.
 
 
 With its booths displaying everything from the old—like vintage purses and clothes and antique toys and furniture—to the new—like
 her best friend’s handmade soaps, candles, and greeting cards—Treasure Hunting Antique Mall was a dream come true.
 
 
 Leaving behind the law office she’d worked in had been a leap of faith. But thanks to the antiques she and her grandmother
 had collected over the years, the money she’d saved on her own, and the inheritance her grandmother left her, she’d finally
 opened the store Nana had always talked about owning someday. And right here on Main Street, in their hometown of Flowering
 Grove, North Carolina.
 
 
 If only Nana could see it. She’d love it!
 
 When a loud meow echoed throughout the large, single room, she spun to see her two resident tabby cats staring up at her. Wanda, the smaller gray tabby, blinked up at Christine, while Pietro, her orange-tabby brother, meowed again. He was at least twice his sister’s size. 
 
 “Well, now. I suppose you two are waiting for your breakfast, huh?”
 
 Pietro bellowed another response as Wanda rubbed against Christine’s shins.
 
 “Okay, then. Follow me.” She strolled down the aisle between a row of booths until she reached the breakroom across from her
 office at the back of the store. The cats began a chorus of loud meows as she filled their bowls with their favorite food
 and then provided fresh water.
 
 
 “Now, Pietro, don’t push your sister out of the way and finish her meal. You need to start watching your weight or the vet
 will put you on a diet at your next checkup.”
 
 
 Both cats ignored her, scarfing down their breakfast as if they hadn’t eaten in a week.
 
 “You two are way too spoiled,” she muttered.
 
 The bell above the front door rang, and Christine made a beeline to the front counter.
 
 Mrs. Ward, a frequent customer, sashayed in. “Good morning, Christine. Oh my! It’s another hot morning out there. But then
 again, the Fourth is next week.”
 
 
 Christine leaned against the counter. “June sure is flying by. What brings you in today?”
 
 “I’m looking for a bookcase.” With her perfectly coifed graying-blond bob, just the right amount of makeup to accentuate her
 brown eyes, and designer jeans and bag, Mrs. Ward seemed to be enjoying her early retirement from the corporate world in style.
 
 
 “Are you looking for any particular finish, Mrs. Ward?”
 
 The older woman shook a finger at her. “How old are you and your twin sister now? Twenty-eight, right?”
 
 “Yes, ma’am.”
 
 “That means you should call me Harriet like any