My Stubborn Heart by Becky Wade Page B

display their wares. They had a money box ready for making change. They had color-coded price tags. They’d advertised. They were as prepared for their sale as any aspiring garage sale hostesses since the beginning of time.
    Congratulating themselves on their savvy, they’d scheduled the sale to start at eight but knew to expect the avid treasure-trollers to arrive at seven.
    They came at six. From that moment on, their perfectly planned garage sale descended into anarchy.
    As one exhausting hour tumbled headlong into the next, the respective jobs of Kate and “the girls” grew more distinct. Gran welcomed everyone with smiles and cheerfully answered questions about the merchandise. Kate and Velma haggled over prices. Peg ran the cash box.
    The best things they had went fast. But the worst things went, too. Pairs of old and battered high heels. A grimy can opener too nasty to be believed. A toilet plunger circa 1960. It was the perfectly fine middle-of-the-road stuff that was passed over as if it had cooties. Kate tried valiantly not to view this odd circumstance as a metaphor for her dating life.
    They’d planned to close things down at four, but the hands on her watch clicked all the way to five before the final stragglers drifted off.
    She, Gran, Velma, and Peg were left surrounded by a minefield of junk. Objects tilted crazily against the barn walls, lay jumbled across the card tables, and littered the lawn like soldiers felled in battle.
    Looking at the enormity of the mess, Kate’s emotions sagged with exhaustion. Had she sat down at some point today? Not that she could recall. Had she eaten anything? She vaguely remembered a few Styrofoam cups of coffee, two donuts, and a bottled water.
    â€œI think we put on a fantastic sale,” Gran said.
    â€œIt went really well,” Kate agreed.
    â€œSome of those people were so gosh darn cheap !” Velma looked deeply offended. “I wanted to tell a few of them to take their dollar ninety-nine and shove it!”
    â€œWell, we raised a wonderful amount of money.” Peg counted out the last few bills and made a notation on her pad of paper. Somehow, Peg’s gray bob still fell in a sleek and orderly line and her pale peach lipstick still shone. Which was some kind of miracle, because Kate knew she looked like she’d been dragged behind an eighteen-wheeler.
    â€œThree thousand four hundred and sixty-two dollars,” Peg announced.
    â€œThat’s marvelous!” Gran clasped her hands together, big rings clacking. “Thank you, everyone.” She went around, teary-eyed, hugging them all, telling them that she couldn’t have done it without them, murmuring about all the extras she could now afford for the renovation.
    In the distance, Kate heard a car approaching. She’d tell whoever it was that the sale was over. They were all beat and they just couldn’t—
    The car rounded the bend and she saw that it wasn’t a car at all, but a white Ford truck.
    Her heartbeat did a crazy little hitch and leap. Matt. It was Saturday and she never saw Matt on Saturdays or Sundays.
    â€œWhy, it’s Matt coming,” Gran said.
    â€œWell, thank goodness,” Velma said. “Looking at that boy always gives me a little pick-me-up, and I sure could use one right now.”
    All of them watched as he turned the truck around and backed in so that the bed was nearest the mess. With easy grace, he swung down from the cab wearing a black long-sleeved Dri-Fit shirt, jeans, and dark gray running shoes.
    â€œMatt!” Gran greeted him with a brief hug. “How nice to see you.”
    â€œBeverly.” He nodded to the rest of them. “How’d it go?”
    â€œIt went beautifully,” Gran answered. “The last of the buyers left just a few minutes ago so we were able to total up all the money. And we did very well. Better than I could have hoped.”
    â€œGood. I’m glad.” He