Her Ordinary Life

By Brickley Jules

After living a backpacking lifestyle overseas in an attempt to run from her past, Buffy Flynn returns to her hometown to make a new life for herself. She’s determined to prove to everyone she’s more than just a party girl who drinks her problems away.

Working at her brother’s antique store, she meets Andy, and Buffy settles into a stable, if not dull, ordinary life.

When a local bad boy makes an appearance in her store, Buffy will have to decide if she can resist temptation and live a life that’s safe, or if she’ll give in and go back to her partying ways.

***A Treasures of Briarton novel which can be read as a full-length stand alone or as part of the series. NO CLIFFHANGERS in this HEA women's contemporary fiction.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brickley Jules
• Release date: Mar 13, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005631598

Brickley Jules

I have two beautiful daughters that occupy most of my time. I am a stay at home mom with a recently empty nest. I can be found on most social media platforms and try to keep them fresh, when the kids let me. I have four current projects Her Ordinary Life, Out of the Blue, Vested In Her, and Into the Blue. I've recently set Her Unexpected Life, my chick lit romance, up for pre-order.

Book preview

Chapter 1

R emind your boss he promised he would have that vase here by tomorrow. Buffy Flynn slapped her hand down on the antique mahogany counter in front of her. The louder-than-expected thud startled her, and she almost upset her stool. I have a customer coming in specifically to pick it up. Holding the phone between her cheek and shoulder, Buffy massaged her stinging palm. Vanessa, I mean it’s not like I can go down to Hugemart and buy another one. This is a one of a kind piece. Her heart sank as she realized her older brother would hold this against her too.

Vanessa’s voice wobbled like a slowing top through the phone line. I know he did, Buffy, but the supplier got cold feet at the last minute. They didn’t want to part with their family’s past. You understand. Mr. Blackwell has been working nonstop trying to find another for you but–

But finding the first one was a miracle, finding a second unheard of. Buffy inhaled several cool breaths into her lungs, letting the calming effects of the antique shop’s musty air wash over her. Nessy, I told you to call me Fee. I’m sorry I Vanessa’ed, you. I don’t want to let Luke down. I want to prove to him that I can run this store on my own. I’m dreading calling him and the customer if Blackwell doesn’t come through.

It’s okay. But sometimes things don’t work out like we want. I’ll text you if Mr. Blackwell succeeds in locating another one. Give your brother some credit, he may surprise you.

I wish I could have a smidge of the faith you have in Luke. Anyway, I’m still sorry, I'm acting like a big drag. Please text me if you hear anything from Blackwell.

Fee tried to swallow the lump in her throat. What was she going to do if she didn’t get that vase in time? Wallow in Luke’s eternal disappointment of her? Why did she even care? She pulled her thumbnail from her mouth. Great, I’m chewing my nails again. This was his fault. He tied her hands by demanding her to only work with Blackwell’s. Within a 50-mile radius she knew of more than twenty reputable historic antiquities acquirers to choose from.

Pushing the situation out of her mind, Fee left it to the Universe. She spent the next few hours staging some of the new antiques Luke obtained from a local estate sale. He returned last time with some great pieces; they required a bit of tender love and care and a duster but that didn’t diminish their greatness. She placed them lovingly around the shop; she liked to create little moments of unexpected joy for the customers who came into her store. The closer a customer looked the more she saw in any display.

This one had layers of treasures placed atop a small farm table with chipping white paint. The remains of a wooden pastry cabinet gave it height and its pale mint color added a soft pop of grandma’s kitchen. Its tin-fronted doors displayed a rooster expertly hand-punched into the metal surface.

Inside the piece, she positioned various kitchen implements from days gone past: a hand crank mixer, coal-heated iron, and a full set of gas station clear glass cups. On the tabletop rested several of her favorite items from this sale: a large black iron cooking pot that still retained its handle for hanging over a fire, a working bellows with brass trimmings, and a whole collection of family cookbooks complete with hand-scribbled notes on several of the recipes.

While Fee placed a few crates under the table, the bell above the shop door chimed. Fee pushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear as she peered up from her crouched position, a well-practiced smile spread across her face ready to greet whoever entered. Shane, her mailman, stood in the doorway. Since she started working here, his navy-blue uniform, shaggy brown hair, and upbeat attitude made her soul happy like spending the day in the sunshine.

Hey. How’s it going? Any rambunctious pups today?

He nodded hello to her as he set her mail on the counter. His navy ball cap strained to stay on his unwieldy mop of hair. No, not today, Ms. Buffy.

Fee stood and crossed the store to the counter. I told you to call me Fee. Everyone does.

Shane gazed down at his feet. I understand, but it doesn’t feel professional.

It's fine. Really. There was a while when I went by Phoenix Moon and that’s where I got the nickname.

You told me last week.

Placing her hands on her hips, she said, And the week before and the week before that, too.

Like I told you last week, all I can do is try.

That’s all I can ask. Did I get anything good? Fee picked through the unusually large pile of mail.

There’s something in there for you.

A thick envelope from the local university rested like a winning lotto ticket toward the bottom of the pile. Slapping him on the shoulder with it, she asked, Are you holding out on me?

He stared at her, his blue eyes opened so round they resembled the old five-foot by five-foot satellite dishes from the nineteen-nineties.

I think this is the package I’ve been waiting on. I should open it, right? But what if I open it, and it’s bad news? I really want it to be good news. Sweat trickled down Fee's back. Or do you think I should wait ’til later to open it?

I think you should be careful and not swallow your necklace charm you keep putting in your mouth. He shrugged. "You’ll never know, I guess, if you don’t open it, but when is your decision. Shane rummaged through his mailbag and then in a nonchalant tone asked, Have you heard if the summer employees from last year are coming back this season?"

Fee made a show of rolling her eyes at him and stated, You’ll be the first I tell once I hear if she plans on coming back this summer.

Shane turned his attention to the strap on his mailbag. She? I’m just inquiring in general. I might want to hire those boys to mow my grass.

Shane, you live in an apartment above the bakery.

He stuttered.

Don’t worry; your secret’s safe with me.

Shane backed hastily out the door and stumbled into the morning sunshine, leaving Fee alone with her possibly life-changing envelope.

Chapter 2

Fee stared at the envelope laying on the counter. She touched the corner, gave it a push, and the envelope began spinning on the lacquered wooden counter top. She watched the benign object that held her fate. The idea of opening it twisted her stomach. But at the same time, Fee wanted to know what it held.

Someone else could open it for her, like Valerie. But then I would need to tell her I applied. Fee’s throat went dry. And Luke. Because her sweet sister-in-law, Valerie, rarely lied or kept secrets, and never to Luke. When Vals did, Fee considered it more like fibbing.

Once Luke found something out, the fun times always ended. He knew ways of sucking the joy out of her endeavors, even the noble ones. Fee wanted applying for college as her proof she meant to stick around. But in his defense, she traveled this path once before right after their mother left and it went rather badly.

No, she needed to bite the bullet and open it herself. Her hand trembled as she stopped the letter from spinning. No time like the present. The silver antique letter-opener weighed down her palm and sent a chill down her spine. In a fluid motion, Fee slid it through the fold of the envelope, careful not to damage any of its contents. Laying the letter opener down with a thunk, she pulled the folded contents free from their constraints. Fee smoothed their creases out as she drew a deep breath.

Dear Buffy Flynn,

The office of the registrar requests your presence at your earliest convenience to discuss your class schedule for the upcoming fall semester.

Enclosed you will find some preliminary information regarding our financial aid program.

She released the letter and let it drop to the counter as she screamed into her fist. Warm tears streamed down her cheeks; the Universe blessed her well this time. And acceptance felt good. Scooping up the letter, parking pass, and campus map she folded them neatly. Then, she slid them inside her purse under the counter for further inspection later like after work in the sun-filled park down the street.

After her daily end of the day visit to the park, Fee fluttered home and settled into her comfy spot with her cat purring in her lap. Her phone beeped from its place on her living room floor, alerting her of a text from Vanessa. Chewing her nail, she sank a little deeper into her favorite beanbag chair and hoped for great news about the vase.

Vanessa wrote, Nothing yet but he’s still looking. He has one more possible source. I need you to stall for me.

A stabbing pain shot through Fee’s skull, and she grunted loudly. Her gray tabby leapt from her lap, shot across the living room hardwood, and over the kitchen island. As the cat landed on the end of the island she heard a crash. Something, probably her purse, had gotten knocked onto the floor. But Fee couldn’t deal with it now. She had an important call to make.

Thanks for the update. I’ll figure something out.

Fee pulled up her contact list and searched contact by contact starting at ‘Z’ for Mr. Fredrick’s number. Her palms poured sweat. After several tries to dry them by wiping each on her pants, she abandoned the endeavor. It's a mixed signal kind of day today, huh, Universe?

The phone rang eight times before Mr. Fredrick answered.

Hello, Mr. Fredrick, this is Buffy Flynn from the antique store. I was calling to let you know there has been a shipping issue with the vase. It won’t be here today. And it looks like tomorrow will be the earliest it could arrive. She paused, giving him time to absorb the information. The shipper didn’t make it to the post office in time. I’m sorry about this. Fee caught herself chewing her nails again as she waited for his response.

Hello, dear. I have to have it by Friday. It’s for my wife’s birthday. I guess I’ll have to start looking around at other shops to see if I can find a backup.

Mr. Fredrick, can you give me some time? If it’s not here by close of business Wednesday I’ll personally help you search other shops for a comparable piece. If you promise not to tell Luke I did, or that I screwed this up.

I can give you till midday Wednesday but no more.

Thank you so much, sir. You’ve saved me. I’m sure it will be here soon.

Chapter 3

Opting to take the coward’s way out, Fee waited until the next day before discussing not fulfilling Mr. Fredrick’s request with Luke. Not filling it gnawed enough at her stomach. If she had to bear the burden of Luke’s worry too, her stomach might go ahead and eat itself. But she wanted to talk to someone about it.

Vanessa felt like the obvious choice because she already knew about the situation. From her cozy spot in her beanbag chair, Fee typed Vanessa a quick text. Hey. What are you doing? Want to grab a coffee?

After five minutes of waiting for Vanessa’s response, Fee’s mind began to travel to dark places. Had Luke gotten to Nessy through Blackwell and banned Vanessa from associating with her? Shifting in her seat, Fee pulled herself from its smothering depths. Had it always been suffocating?

Hey. Nothing much. That’d be great.

Fee’s muscles unclenched, and she sank back into her chair. This new life came with a lot more stress than her old one overseas. She imagined visiting places abroad like Amsterdam melted stress off most people and not just her. Hopefully having coffee with Vanessa would become an occasional stress relief tool for her.

Do you have a favorite place? Fee asked before hopping up from her favorite spot in her living room. She found her purse spilt across the kitchen floor. At least now she knew what Bluebelle knocked over earlier.

Willow Diner. It has a nice glass front, and I love watching the sun set over the city from there.

Hearing the name brought Fee a mental image of the diner with her favorite dessert. The glass display counter with its fresh baked pies and pastries reminded her of the diner her family visited on vacations in her youth. Her father always let her get cherry pie with an extra serving of whipped cream on the side. Her mother grumbled about it, but let her have it anyway. As an adult now, she avoided going to places like that on her own; she needed the accountability another person provided to keep her from too many pieces of pie.

Sounds great. Fee swiftly scooped up the contents of her purse.

Vanessa chuckled. I know. You’re right, but Mr. Blackwell isn’t as bad as his name makes him out to be. I swear.

Questioning Vanessa’s opinions, Fee reviewed their conversation from when their drinks arrived. Vanessa’s weakened coffee and the tile floor of the diner matched in color. Fee found the floor more disgusting than kitschy and retro, but Vanessa found it fitting and modern.

I swear he’s a nice guy, but the expression on your face says you don’t believe me.

Well, I’ll believe you when he comes through and finds me the vase for Mr. Fredrick. Fee took a large gulp of her hot chocolate.

Vanessa cleared her throat and tapped her nose.

What?

Laughing, Vanessa tapped her nose again. You have whipped cream on your nose.

Fee took this as a sign from the Universe. She crossed her eyes and tried using her tongue to clean her nose.

Vanessa cackled so hard she snorted. "Stop…I can’t…I need…just