weave of connection, a thread between them that made this more than what she’d set out to make it.
“You may not be very impressed with my collection, but I think you’ll get why these things are special.”
She knew exactly what he meant. Many times even her friends didn’t get it. They didn’t understand what she loved about older items, especially when they had wear or use—why didn’t she like new rugs from Ikea rather than old Persian ones that horses or camels might have slept on? Why didn’t she like new furniture or dishes, rather than ones that came from other people’s houses and kitchens?
Scott opened the box, and Audra had to admit she was more interested than she wanted to be. A person’s things, the kinds of items they collected or loved, said something about them. She wondered what she would find out about Scott from what was in his treasure box.
The first thing he pulled out was a framed photo, black and white, and very old.
“I keep meaning to get this framed. In fact, I’d like to display a lot of these things, but I never quite get around to it.”
“Portage Lake?” Audra asked. “Are any of these players your ancestors?”
Scott’s face lit up with pride. “As a matter of fact, my great uncle is right there, on the left. And believe it or not, I found this picture on an online auction. I knew he played for the team—the States’ first professional hockey team—but we never had anything but stories, and one day I tripped across this. I bought it for less than ten dollars. They were world champions in 1903, but he wasn’t with the team until 1907.”
“It’s very special. You should definitely have it framed to protect the image and the integrity of the photo.”
“I’ve meant to and never did. I think I’ll do that this week.”
He went on to show her several other items, including a pair of tickets from the first NHL game he ever played in. Scott was sentimental. Audra never would have guessed that.
Audra saw a small velvet box in the bottom of the box and pointed. “What’s that?”
“Oh, that’s not a sports thing. A family heirloom, actually.”
He grabbed the box and handed it to her, and when Audra opened it, she nearly fell back to the bed in awe.
“Oh, Scott…this is gorgeous. Where did you find this?”
The antique Bulova watch with an Art Deco style and sapphire diamonds shone up at her. She knew it had a fifteen-jewel movement and was made from platinum and fourteen-carat gold. She’d sold one like it years ago, though not this pretty. It broke her heart, because she’d thought about keeping it for herself, but a sale was sale and she’d needed every one she could get.
“It was my paternal grandmother’s. My mom gave it to me when Dad passed. His father had given it to his mother, and he gave it to Mom. It was something she only wore when she went out with him, formal, and that would never happen again, so she wanted me to have it.”
“That’s sweet. It’s a beautiful piece.”
“Thanks.”
Scott closed the box and bent to put it down beside the bed, the mood between them having changed, soft around the edges, like a blurred photo. Maybe she was tired, or still wrapped up in the sentiment of the treasure box, but Audra liked the way she felt connected to Scott at the moment and laid her head against his shoulder, her hand rubbing his back.
It was a tender gesture, but it felt right.
Neither one of them said another word as lips met and heartbeats quickened. Scott’s arms were closing around her, pulling her in close for a kiss so sweetly romantic that it would have made her tear up except that heat simmered underneath, starting to take over as he laid her back on the mattress, covering her with his body.
“Scott.” She whispered his name as he pressed his warmth into hers and she wrapped her legs around him, bringing them even closer. The kiss deepened, their bodies entwined.
Audra didn’t simply want him, she craved him. Needed
“You may not be very impressed with my collection, but I think you’ll get why these things are special.”
She knew exactly what he meant. Many times even her friends didn’t get it. They didn’t understand what she loved about older items, especially when they had wear or use—why didn’t she like new rugs from Ikea rather than old Persian ones that horses or camels might have slept on? Why didn’t she like new furniture or dishes, rather than ones that came from other people’s houses and kitchens?
Scott opened the box, and Audra had to admit she was more interested than she wanted to be. A person’s things, the kinds of items they collected or loved, said something about them. She wondered what she would find out about Scott from what was in his treasure box.
The first thing he pulled out was a framed photo, black and white, and very old.
“I keep meaning to get this framed. In fact, I’d like to display a lot of these things, but I never quite get around to it.”
“Portage Lake?” Audra asked. “Are any of these players your ancestors?”
Scott’s face lit up with pride. “As a matter of fact, my great uncle is right there, on the left. And believe it or not, I found this picture on an online auction. I knew he played for the team—the States’ first professional hockey team—but we never had anything but stories, and one day I tripped across this. I bought it for less than ten dollars. They were world champions in 1903, but he wasn’t with the team until 1907.”
“It’s very special. You should definitely have it framed to protect the image and the integrity of the photo.”
“I’ve meant to and never did. I think I’ll do that this week.”
He went on to show her several other items, including a pair of tickets from the first NHL game he ever played in. Scott was sentimental. Audra never would have guessed that.
Audra saw a small velvet box in the bottom of the box and pointed. “What’s that?”
“Oh, that’s not a sports thing. A family heirloom, actually.”
He grabbed the box and handed it to her, and when Audra opened it, she nearly fell back to the bed in awe.
“Oh, Scott…this is gorgeous. Where did you find this?”
The antique Bulova watch with an Art Deco style and sapphire diamonds shone up at her. She knew it had a fifteen-jewel movement and was made from platinum and fourteen-carat gold. She’d sold one like it years ago, though not this pretty. It broke her heart, because she’d thought about keeping it for herself, but a sale was sale and she’d needed every one she could get.
“It was my paternal grandmother’s. My mom gave it to me when Dad passed. His father had given it to his mother, and he gave it to Mom. It was something she only wore when she went out with him, formal, and that would never happen again, so she wanted me to have it.”
“That’s sweet. It’s a beautiful piece.”
“Thanks.”
Scott closed the box and bent to put it down beside the bed, the mood between them having changed, soft around the edges, like a blurred photo. Maybe she was tired, or still wrapped up in the sentiment of the treasure box, but Audra liked the way she felt connected to Scott at the moment and laid her head against his shoulder, her hand rubbing his back.
It was a tender gesture, but it felt right.
Neither one of them said another word as lips met and heartbeats quickened. Scott’s arms were closing around her, pulling her in close for a kiss so sweetly romantic that it would have made her tear up except that heat simmered underneath, starting to take over as he laid her back on the mattress, covering her with his body.
“Scott.” She whispered his name as he pressed his warmth into hers and she wrapped her legs around him, bringing them even closer. The kiss deepened, their bodies entwined.
Audra didn’t simply want him, she craved him. Needed
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