The sound of the windwhistling through the trees, blowing branches around and startling the leaves,was constant here. Rain, wind, thunder, all part of living in the wetteststate. Your car constantly having pine needles under the windshield wipers wasa constant reminder that this wasn't like California. I sighed as I looked downat my beat up title green Camaro. The hood was covered in pine needles andlittle branches. The sidewalk was glistening from last night’s downpour. Theone nice thing about moving here was the sound that the birds made in themorning.

          “I need to get those little guys a bird house.” I said to myself as I moved tomy dresser. During my move, my expensive designer dresser had experienced aminor disagreement with the ground so I had to get a new one. It didn't look asnice but it worked for what I needed it for. It had four drawers made of maple.It was decorated with a few pictures of my friends from California, and a mirror.I grabbed my black slacks and my black t-shirt that had the title of my shopwritten on it. I pulled them on and made my way to the kitchen. After turningon my silver metal kettle and got a glass out of the cabinet, I debated what todrink. Every morning there was always the same question.

          “Hm… Pumpkin spice or sugar plum?” I said as I dug through my tea cupboard. Igrabbed a tea bag out of the sugar plum spice box and dropped it in my cup. Iwalked around my house making sure I hadn't forgotten anything. “Okay… keys,wallet, tea… Shoes!” I ran back to my bedroom and grabbed my shoes. I tuggedthem on and ran back to the kitchen to pour water into my cup and went out thedoor. I sighed. “I forgot the towel.”

          I walked back into the house to grab the old towel that I used to wipe off mycar morning after morning. As I walked back out the door I locked it, pulledthe branches off the hood, and wiped off my car. I tossed the towel onto thefront porch and clicked the unlock button on my keys and my car beeped a happygood morning to me. I climbed in and the tea splashed onto my shirt. “Oh forthe love of…” I set the cup down in the cup holder and walk to the porch tograb the towel. I dabbed at my shirt hoping that the spot would clear up. Imutter to myself as I made my way back to my car.

          I turned the key in the ignition and the car purred to life. I pulled out ofthe drive way. This day was going to be just like every other day. My bad luckhad gone downhill since I moved here. I had a feeling that that was theuniverse trying to tell me that this isn’t where I’m supposed to be. But whatelse was I supposed to do? This is the cheapest place I could find with thiskind of quality. I mean don’t get me wrong, I could have sold my car and gottena cheaper one to get a better house in California, but I loved this car toomuch.

          I pulled to the curb of my little shop after ten minutes of terrible driversand red lights. I climbed out and looked up at the sign. Maria's Boutiquewas written on the sign. I smiled. I had worked at this shop for two yearsand had gotten well acquainted with the manager until she passed away andpassed the store onto me. She was like the mother I never had. Thankfully I hadso much of experience working at the store doing mostly everything that it waseasy to take up the responsibility of owning it.

          I unlocked the glass door and opened in. The little bell chimed above the doorand I turned on the lights. Smiling, I breathed in the familiar smell of thestore. I never could quite put to words what it smelled like. Home, maybe? Iput my glass on the counter, walked around and turned on the old computer. ThenI went to the supply cabinet to grab a broom. I had gotten so used to the routinethat I did it without even thinking. Sweeping the shop and dusting all thecounters. I then wiped the front windows and the glass on the front doors.Finally, I flicked the switch on the on sign and it lit up with neon light. Iwent back behind the counter and drank my tea as I waited for something,anything to happen. Then it did. A man with broad shoulders and a clean cutlook walked in. He wore a smile as charming as a prince. I stood up.

          “Hello sir, Welcome to Maria's Boutique. Can I help you with anything?” Iasked.

          “Yes. I saw that you were hiring.” He waved to the hiring sign that I had hungin the front window. I had almost forgotten about it. No one had come in for aninterview since I first put up the sign. But why would a man like him want towork somewhere like this?

          “Hello, I’m Rook. Rook Johnson.” He said and extended his hand. He had largerough looking hands like he worked a lot. I shook his hand and smiled.

          “I’m Joanne Cook. Nice to meet you Rook.” He had a firm handshake.

          I had him follow me to the back office for the interview after turning the signto close. I sat down behind the large antique desk and had him sit in a chairin front of it. “So what made you come here for a job?”

          “Well I just moved here from California and I had previously worked at aboutique store up in Los Angeles. But I decided that I wanted to move somewhereout here in Port Angeles.”

          That surprised me. “You lived in California? So did I, although I lived in SanFrancisco. How do you like Port Angeles so far?”

          He laughed. “Well it’s not like California for sure. Much. much colder andwetter.”

          I nodded in agreement. “Well I've been here for about two years, almost three soI’m getting used to it.”

          He smiled. “You do look like someone who would live somewhere like this. Youlook a lot better than a lot of the locals though I have to say.”

          I was reminded of Mrs. Pete that lived down the street from me. She was a nicelady and all, but she was crazy. She also wasn’t the best looking lady I’vemet. Plus, she always seemed to smell like cats, yet she doesn’t have any. Ishivered at the thought.

          Rook laughed. “Remembering something horrifying?” He asked me, looking veryamused.

          “You could say that.” I smiled. A few seconds of silence went by before finallyI said. “How soon can you get to work?”

          “Now.” He replied getting up.

          I smiled and nodded as we left the room. I made my way to the front of thestore and turned on the lights again. And after making sure he understood howthe organization system worked, he started making sure that everything was intheir right spots. I went back behind the counter. I took a sip of my tea andscowled. It had gotten cold. I opened the microwave that was on the filingcabinet and put the cup in. After a few seconds it dinged and I pulled it out.I sipped it and smiled. “Perfect.” I whispered.

          “I’d expect a girl like you from California to drink coffee.” Rook said,startling me.

          “Oh, well I’ve always preferred tea over coffee. Because tea is more naturalthan coffee, I guess. But I still drink coffee occasionally.” I replied and satdown behind the computer.

          The bell above the door dinged as Mrs. Simmons walked in. “Hello, Mrs. Simmons,how is your day today?” I asked getting up to meet the woman.

          “Not good. I spilt wine on my favorite blouse and I needed it today for aspecial dinner. I’m going on a date with Peter.” She giggled. Old people are socute sometimes.

          I showed her to the shirts and she looked through them.She and Peter had beentogether since she was 20. She had told me the story of how they had met foryears. She thought it was the most romantic thing ever. Apparently she hadworked at a café and he came in every day and one day he caught a glimpse ofher and asked for her every time he went in to order his meal. Finally one dayhe got up the nerve to ask her on a date, and she said yes. They got marriedone year later and have been married ever since. She loved him with all herheart and he loved her even more. I guess in a way it was romantic and secretlyI always wished it would happen to me.

          She lifted up a red silk shirt with ruffles on the front. A price tag dangledfrom the neck line. “It’s perfect!” She said happily. “I’ll take it.”