Aurora smiled. “That’s good to know.”
“Will you be staying in Juneau long?”
“It depends on when I can catch a flight out,” Aurora told her. “The more I see of Juneau, the longer I want to stay here.”
“Understandable.” Sheila placed the folded stack of clothes into a plastic bag with the store’s name on it. Then she slid the bag across the counter to Aurora. “That’ll be sixty-three dollars and ninety-five cents.”
After Aurora made her purchase, Gage reached for the bag. “Sheila, do you mind if she uses the restroom to change out of her wet clothes and into some of the clothes she bought here?”
“No, not at all,” she replied and then pointed to the rear left side of the store. “It’s right back there.”
“Thank you,” Aurora said.
“I’ll wait for you outside,” Gage said.
“I won’t be long,” she promised with a grateful smile.
Aurora changed as quickly as she could. The sweatpants were too long and had to be rolled up, but that was the story of her life. When you were somewhat vertically challenged, pants usually had to be rolled or altered. Today, it was rolled.
When she stepped out onto the covered entrance area where Gage waited, Aurora’s gaze lifted to the lightening sky just beyond the roof’s overhang. “You were right.”
“About?” Gage asked.
“We shopped long enough for the rain to end.”
He grinned. “When you fly as often as I do, you get to know the weather patterns.”
“Afternoon, Gage,” an elderly man greeted as he and his dog, a beautiful light-haired golden retriever on a bright yellow leash, came toward them up the sidewalk.
“Out for your daily walk, I see,” Gage replied.
The older man stopped, giving Gage a chance to give the dog a quick scruff behind the neck. “My Bailey girl here is determined to keep me young,” the man said as the dog ate up the attention Gage was giving her.
“She’s doing a fine job of it,” Gage said.
“Looks like you found someone to help keep you young too.”
Aurora returned his kind smile. “Only for a day,” she said. “I’ll have a flight to catch tomorrow if everything works out.”
“Aurora Daniels,” Gage said, “this is Mr. Wilson and his faithful companion, Bailey. They live in the apartment above the diner.”
“It’s so nice to meet you,” she said. “You must have the best view of the water and the ships coming in and out.”
“We do,” Mr. Wilson replied.
Aurora knelt next to the dog. “Aren’t you pretty?” Like Gage, she scratched the dog behind its soft, floppy ears. The dog tippedits head into her outstretched hand in a show of both acceptance and affection.
“Pity she’s got to leave,” the older man said and then, leaning in toward Gage, added, “she’s a breath of sunshine on a dismal fall day. Bailey here agrees. Don’t you, girl?”
As if on cue, the dog straightened and gave two short barks and then sat there, looking as if she were smiling up at Aurora.
Aurora laughed softly. “Thank you both. That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“Then you’re spending time with the wrong ‘anyones,’” Mr. Wilson said with a wink aimed in Gage’s direction. “Okay, Bailey, time for us to move on. These two have places to be, and so do we.”
“See you next time, girl,” Gage said, reaching out to give the tail-wagging pup one last ear-scratching. Then he straightened and nodded to her owner, who nodded back as he gathered up his sweet dog’s leash and started off down the sidewalk.
Aurora watched as they moved away in the opposite direction she and Gage were going to be heading.
