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Saturday mornings in the fall were usually bustling in Purgatory. Old timers gathered in the deli, just off the grocery store, to talk about their week. Families carted kids to soccer games and hockey practice. People were out and about as much as possible before winter set in. But most exciting, at least to Waverly Earp, was the farmers' market.
Each Saturday morning farmers, crafters and artists would gather in the small park just off Main Street. It was on the smaller side, as far as farmers' markets go, but Waverly loved that. She could easily visit all the stalls and check out their offerings without having to eat up her entire morning.
So that's where Waverly found herself on the first Saturday in October. In a canopied booth, looking at the work of a jeweler, new to the market. The booth's proprietor was hunched over a small, makeshift desk currently balanced over their thighs. They seemed absorbed in their work and Waverly only glanced over quickly enough to register the blue and black flannel jacket and forest green stocking hat pulled low over the down-turned head.
Waverly moved slowly between displays. She stopped once or twice at pieces that caught her eye, but didn't linger. She had only brought enough cash for her current haul of vegetables. Wi-fi in Purgatory was spotty at best, so not all the vendors had the capability to run a card. She would have to bring a little more cash next week and hope the artist would return.
Just as she was exiting the booth, a flash caught her eye. Later she would describe it as kismet, but at that moment she simply thought the morning sun had reached out its rays to light the displays.
The necklace was simple. A thin, silver chain supporting a single charm. It was the charm that drew Waverly in. The outline was in the shape of a sleeping cat, complete with little ears and curled tail. The artist had used thin, silver wire. The piece looked both solid and delicate. Waverly was amazed how such a thin bit of metal could evoke a real, solid cat in her mind.
She gently slid her hand behind the charm and brought it closer to her face. It caught the sunlight perfectly. She couldn’t explain, but she had to buy this necklace.
–
"Pardon me, how much is this necklace?"
The proprietor, still sitting on a camp chair between the displays, looked up from their work.
"That one's $40, tax included. Just finished it last night."
Waverly started slightly. The most beautiful woman she had ever seen was talking to her, casually, as though this was an average, everyday occurrence. Warm, brown eyes regarded her kindly. Red hair flowed down under the green stocking hat she had noticed earlier. Callused fingers, discolored black and grey in spots, continued to work the metal they held.
The woman smiled and dimples lit up her face. Waverly was frozen in place, staring.
Say something, weirdo!
"Oh, you're the artist?"
That was a silly question. Of course she's the artist. It's her booth. She literally just said she was the artist.
Waverly grinned sheepishly, but the woman didn't seem to take offense.
"Yup. Made everything you see here. It's like I get all these shapes in my head and this is the only way to get'um out."
Waverly nodded in understanding. She felt like that sometimes. Only with her, it was knowledge. All these facts would build up in her head, struggling to free themselves. Then, at the point where she felt like her head would burst, they would come tumbling out in a sea of words. She smiled at the thought that she was not alone in her quirks.
But now she had to know more . . . Who was this mysterious jeweler? What was her name? Where was she from? And perhaps, most importantly, was she single? Ah! Stop being a creeper. She could be with someone, with a dude. Oh crap, she could be into dudes. Wait, I'm into dudes . . . But what if she's ONLY into dudes . . . STOP!
Waverly gave her head a little shake. She had to keep this conversation going in the least creepy way she could muster.
"You take cards?"
"I usually do but the reader's having a heck of a time connecting out here. Until I get a stronger signal I'm afraid it's cash only."
Waverly checked her wallet. $2.67 was all that was left after her usual purchases. She thought for a moment, then an idea hit her.
"How much longer you gonna be here?"
"Well, the market's open until noon. Take me a few minutes to pack up . . . so about 12:30, I'd say."
Waverly looked at her phone. It was 11:40 a.m. 50 minutes would be plenty of time to get to the bank and get the needed cash.
"Great. Could you please hold this necklace aside for me. I'm just going to dash to the bank and be right back to get it."
"Sounds good." The woman beamed at Waverly and pulled the necklace off display. Waverly’s heart stopped. She stuttered out a quick "th-thanks," and backed out of the booth, basking in the light of the woman’s smile.
Damn, I gotta get a name when I get back.
–
Waverly walked quickly toward her bank. One huge advantage to living in a smaller town was that nothing was too far, even on foot. She came around the side of the bank to the ATM and audibly groaned. She counted six people in line ahead of her.
It's okay. This'll go quick.
She put on a tight smile and joined the line with a small sigh.
The line did move quickly . . . at first. The first four people were on task. They got their money and were gone. The fifth, a woman who looked to be exactly one hundred and forty-five years old, brought the wave of momentum to a grinding haul. Waverly groaned internally. This lady was going to hold everything up, she just knew it.
No, no. Don’t judge. This lady could be just as fast as the rest.
She wasn't. But she was on task. Her movements were slow but the woman obviously knew what she was doing and was pulling out her money and card in no time. Waverly chided herself for jumping to conclusions and made an internal promise to do better in the future.
Just one person was ahead of her now. A young man, who looked to be about Waverly's age, stepped forward and inserted his debit card. She watched his progress as she checked the time on her phone. It was almost noon. Waverly focused all her mind power on willing this guy to move just a bit quicker.
"Ah, crap!"
The loud shout shocked Waverly out of her head.
"Wh-what's the matter?" She moved a little closer trying to see the ATM screen around the guy's shoulder. Maybe she could help, she was really good at solving problems.
"I just realized that I've been standing right next to you for a bit and didn't come up with any cheesy pick up lines to wow you with. Now, once I get my cash, I could leave without even talking to you and I just can't let that happen."
Waverly stared for a moment, letting his words sink in.
"Um . . . okay."
She took in the guy before her. He was taller than her, but really, who wasn't? He had blonde hair and bright blue eyes that reminded Waverly of her sister’s. His smile seemed genuine and he had a pleasant vibe.
"I'm Kayden. What's your name?" Kayden raised his eyebrows and stared expectantly at Waverly.
"Oh . . . um, Waverly." She did not have time for this. Kayden seemed nice and all, but she had places to be.
"Well Waverly, got any plans right now? I was just gonna get some lunch. You wanna join me?"
"Oh, thanks for the offer. I do have someplace to be, though. Hope you enjoy your lunch."
"Okay. Well it was nice to meet you, Waverly. Hope you have a glorious afternoon."
Kayden turned back to the machine and took his time finishing his transaction. Waverly scrunched up her nose and watched his slow, methodical movements.
Have a glorious afternoon . . . who says that?
She shook her head and glanced down at her phone. 12:05 p.m. She still had time to get some cash and purchase the necklace.
"Hope to see you again soon, Waverly."
Kayden smiled wide and moved off, back toward the farmers' market.
Finally!
Waverly stepped up to the ATM and quickly withdrew the cash she needed for the necklace. She efficiently stowed her card and the cash in her wallet as she started back to the stall with the beautiful jeweler.
Necklace. This is about getting the beautiful NECKLACE.
–
Waverly weaved her way through the sea of stalls in various states of disassemble. She could see that the jeweler had gotten her canopy down and was in the process of packing up the small displays. She walked quickly toward her goal, zigzaging when necessary.
"I'm so glad you're still here!" The words came out a bit more desperate than Waverly had intended. She winced and braced her hand on her chest, trying to catch her breath.
"I am just so excited about the necklace. It's still available, right?" Waverly’s voice took on a concerned tone.
"Of course." Warm, brown eyes met Waverly’s. "Got it all wrapped up for you."
The jeweler held out a necklace box. It was made of thin cardboard, with a removable top, and had a hand painted design. Waverly took the box and admired the decoration. Small, intricate flames surrounded the words, "Red Haught Jewelry, @redhaughtjewelry on Instagram and Facebook."
Waverly pulled two twenties out of her wallet and handed them over. She was excited to get the necklace but wanted an excuse to stay a bit longer and talk.
"Red Haught Jewelry? How'd you pick that name?"
"Oh, my dad thought that up. It's my name plus the hair. Cute right?" The woman pulled on a lock of flaming hair to emphasize her point. Waverly watched, mesmerized, as rough, stained fingers slid through the silken strands.
"Your name is Haught?" Waverly couldn’t stop the question from tumbling out of her mouth.
The woman laughed and Waverly melted.
"My last name is Haught. First is Nicole. Nice to meet you, officially."
Nicole held out her hand and Waverly stared at it for a moment. She had the sudden urge to clasp it and walk to a sink where she could senually wash it clean in the warm soapy water . . . Then, remembering where she was and what she was doing, she grasped the hand and started to shake it slowly.
"I'm Waverly Earp. I live here. Well, not here in the park . . . in Purgatory. With my sister, Wynonna. She works at the train yard just north of town, fixing trains. She can fix anything. Really good with her hands, ya' know. I'm a history professor out at the Community College in Marysville. Only a twenty minute drive. Not too bad, except sometimes, in the winter . . ."
Oh poop. I just word vomited all over this poor woman. Double poop, I'm still shaking her hand.
Waverly instantly let go of Nicole’s hand. She could feel the flush running up her neck. Nicole chuckled and smiled a wide, dimpled smile.
"Nice to meet you, Waverly Earp."
"Are you going to be here next week? I would love to see you again . . . Oh, I mean your booth, erm, your jewelry." Waverly blurted out before she could stop herself.
Crap on a bagel! Pull yourself together.
Waverly's eyes widened when she realized Nicole was looking at her with a lopsided smirk.
"Um . . . " Waverly tried to come up with something witty and refined to say but her mind was blank.
Nicole's smile widened. "Plan on coming every Saturday, at least until November. I did pretty good today. Been hopping around this summer, to some of the bigger markets in the area. But I wanted something a little closer to home for the fall. Just moved to Marysville this past spring. Surprised I haven't seen you around."
Nicole was talking as she worked, packing her jewelry into little, plastic storage boxes with snap on lids. Waverly thought that this might be a great opportunity to keep the conversation going.
"You need some help packing up? I'm super amazing at organizing stuff. You give me a pile of anything and I'll have it organized in a jiffy."
"Sure. Don't really have a strict system in place, just put like with like in each container. Got labels here so I can keep some semblance of order."
Nicole pointed toward a small pile of elastic bands. Each had an attached card labeled either necklaces, earrings, bracelets, rings or other. Waverly set her bag down and got to work on a group of bracelets.
True to her word, she worked quickly and efficiently. She had soon finished with the bracelets and had moved on to a group of rings. Eager to keep the conversation going, Waverly posed what she hoped was a light, and relatively normal, question.
"You ever take on commissions?"
"Sometimes. Has to be something that interests me though, something with some creativity behind it."
Cool. Now I just have to come up with something creative to wow her with . . .
Waverly stayed another 30 minutes until all the jewelry and display stands were safely organized and packed. Nicole had wrestled the canopy into a long bag with little wheels on one end. She began stacking all the jewelry and stand boxes into a foldable wagon.
"I could help you to your car, if you want. Maybe save you an extra trip." Waverly wasn't sure that Nicole could get it all in one go.
"That'd be great, thanks. Would you mind taking the canopy? It's pretty easy to roll on the little wheels."
"Sure thing," Waverly said with a smile, eager to help however she could.
I am just being nice. I would do this for anyone. I would totally offer to help Mrs. Olsen pack up her carrots if I thought she needed me. This has nothing to do with the hotness of this particular vendor. Nothing at all.
Waverly slung her market bag over her shoulder and followed behind the wagon Nicole was pulling. They bumped along the uneven grass toward the parking lot at the far end of the park.
The canopy bag's little wheels were not meant for off-roading. Waverly had to muscle it along, but she wasn't complaining. This gave her a chance to study Nicole without notice. The other woman was tall. About a head taller than Waverly. Her red hair fell down her back, just below her armpits. She had an upright and determined walk and Waverly had to move quickly to keep up.
Relief came with the transition from the ruff grass of the park to the smooth blacktop of the parking lot. Waverly let out a happy sigh as the small wheels glided along the level surface. She was able to catch up with Nicole and walk alongside her.
"Which one's you?"
Waverly looked at the sea of pickups and minivans, with and without trailers, trying to choose the one that seemed the most "Nicole." She had only known this woman for about an hour and a half but she thought she had a good chance choosing correctly. Her head swiveled back and forth, taking in the surrounding vehicles.
"It’s just down at the end, there."
Nicole gestured toward the end of the row. On the left side was a shiny, black pickup with a window sticker proclaiming "Farmers Do it Better!" On the right was an older, light blue Subaru Outback. The window stickers on this car said "Ask Me About My Cat" and "Han Shot First!" Okay this was an easy choice. Waverly veered toward the Subaru while Nicole hit the door locks.
"She's an older model but I can fit everything, even the canopy, inside when I put the seats down. It's better than leaving it all in the bed of a pickup. It's secure and won't get wet or snowed on. And I am NOT driving a minivan." Nicole explained while opening the hatchback and beginning to shove things in.
Waverly nodded and handed Nicole the end of the canopy bag. Together, the two women lifted it easily and pushed it across the cargo area until it butted up against the front seat. Waverly set her bag down and helped Nicole load the rest. As they fit the folded up wagon in at the back, Nicole turned to Waverly and offered her hand again.
"It was so nice to meet you, Waverly Earp. Thanks for helping pack up and load my stuff. Enjoy the necklace. I have a feeling it will look really good on you. I hope to see you again next Saturday. Or maybe around campus."
Nicole’s smile hit Waverly head-on and she could only offer a flustered "yeah" while shaking the proffered hand. Nicole chuckled as she closed the raised hatchback with a satisfying thump. Waverly snatched her bag off the ground and moved to the side as Nicole hopped in the front seat. The Subaru backed out of the parking space and Nicole gave a quick wave and toot of the horn as she put the car in drive and began to pull away.
Waverly lifted her hand and waggled her fingers at the receding vehicle and the gorgeous woman it carried. The gorgeous woman who had just moved to the area; who she would definitely see again. The gorgeous woman with the calloused fingers from hours of intricate metalwork. Long, rough, dexterous fingers . . .
The Subaru pulled out of the parking lot and onto Main Street. As Waverly watched, it drove off into the light, Saturday traffic and headed toward Marysville. Waverly got up on her tiptoes, watching the light blue SUV get smaller and smaller until she lost sight of it altogether.
"Oh, poop on a stick. I forgot to ask if she was single!"