Free Pewter Angels by Henry K. Ripplinger Page B

little fingers couldn’t hold on much longer like that, released her finger and purposely slid her warm hand into his, sending Henry instantly to cloud nine. Neither of them said a word for the longest time.
    “What do you have planned tomorrow at the store?”
    Henry explained his dad had offered to help and was willing to donate an old door and insulation, and that he himself planned to get some paint to spruce up the store.
    They walked for about an hour and a half, stopping every now and then to comment on the colour and architecture of the houses. Jenny definitely liked blue; Henry liked it best of all, too. Their favourites were the houses with steep roofs and dormers.
    “And I just love those lilacs,” Jenny said, pointing out one house in particular with large green bushes in front of it. “It’s too bad they’re not blooming anymore—they must be gorgeous in the spring. Lilac is my favourite perfume,” she added, by way of explanation.
    Henry began to imagine he and Jenny married and owning a house like that someday, and what it would be like to give her a bouquet of lilacs from their own yard. A rush of excitement spread through him like wildfire at the very thought of it. So he wasn’t too surprised that Jenny’s thoughts seemed to echo his.
    “I can just picture my daughter in one of those bedrooms with the dormers,” she said, “That would be Camilla’s room.”
    “What do you mean? Camilla who?”
    “Oh, last winter my parents and I went to Jamaica, and the maid who did up our room was called Camilla. It’s so different. I just love that name. Don’t you?”
    “Sure. I’ve never heard it before, but yeah, I like it, too.”
    “Well, I told the maid right then and there that when I had my first daughter I was going to call her Camilla.”
    He squeezed Jenny’s hand and she leaned into him. He could walk with her forever, they didn’t even need words.
    Cooler air swept in with the evening and the light dimmed under the shade of the huge elm trees. But even in the evening chill Henry felt warm inside. He wanted to kiss Jenny. Maybe just on the cheek. His hand tightened on hers. As they neared home, Jenny broke a long silence.
    “I’m so glad you’re here in this neighbourhood and that I met you. I just feel so comfortable and relaxed around you.”
    Henry wasn’t sure how to respond. He was quiet for a moment, then mustered the courage to say, “I feel real good when I’m around you, too, Jenny.”
    As they reached their homes, Henry’s heartbeat grew to a roar in his ears. Could he kiss her? Would she let him? But the roaring faded abruptly when they got to Jenny’s gate and Timmy hollered out his window across the street, “Hey lovers, what’s with the holding hands already!”
    Henry was glad it was getting dark so Jenny couldn’t see how bright his face had become. They let go of each other’s hand and turned to face Timmy.
    “Thought you were studying,” Henry called back.
    “Well, you can study and spy too, you know. Someone has to keep the neighbourhood informed.”
    “Timmy, get in here,” his dad bellowed. “You should be studying. If you fail that test tomorrow you’re not going to the cottage.”
    “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he said, and the window slammed shut with a bang.
    “Well, Jenny, this has been a long day,” Henry tried for casual but came off sounding more like his dad.
    “Yeah, you had a very busy day … and it sounds like you’re going to have another one tomorrow. But we forgot to pick up bread today while Mom and I were shopping, so I’ll probably see you at Mr. Engelmann’s store in the morning.”
    “Oh, good!”
    The porch light came on above Jenny’s front door.
    “Hi, Henry,” Mrs. Sarsky called out from behind the screen door. “Jenny said you’re working at the grocery store over the summer.”
    “Yes, that’s right,” he raised his voice a bit so she could hear him.
    “It’s nice to see a hardworking young person. Well,