High Noon

District, not far from a piece of the campus. Savannah College of Art and Design?”
    “You don’t say.” She could barely remember what was outside the house and where it was set. All of that, the streets and buildings and open spaces, were a jumbled maze of squares and lines in her mind. “What kind of property?”
    “Kind of a mess, actually. Like one of those Victorian ladies who fell on extremely hard times. You can still see the elegance under the neglect.” He picked up a cookie, bit in. Then forgot everything in pure sensory pleasure.
    “Oh God. Marry me.”
    She didn’t laugh this time. She giggled. “If a woman can have you for a cookie, I’m surprised the bakeries all over the state of Georgia aren’t working overtime.” She reached across him, picked up one herself. And her eyes twinkled. “But they are damned good cookies.”
    “If I beg, will you give me some to take home? How can I settle for Chips Ahoy! now?”
    “I believe we can spare some for you.”
    She moved to the stove to take out a tray, slide in the one she’d prepared.
    “I lost my train of thought in cookie nirvana. This sad house off campus.”
    “Mmm-hmm. You’re thinking of buying it and fixing it up.”
    He followed warm cookie with cold milk, and figured that was the sum total of heaven on earth. “That kind of depends on you.”
    Puzzlement lifted her eyebrows as she turned away from the stove. “On me?”
    “I’m thinking of buying it and fixing it up, yeah. What I’ve got in mind is a shop. Now…” He gestured with the last bite of the first cookie before popping it into his mouth. “I know what you’re thinking.”
    “You couldn’t possibly. I’m too confused to be thinking anything.”
    “Okay, what some might think is, hell, Savannah’s got a million shops already. It does, no doubt about it. But people love to shop. No doubt about that either. Right?”
    “I…I do. I love browsing the Internet shops.”
    “Sure.” He picked up another cookie. “So I’m thinking, location being near the campus, Art and Design. Why not art, crafts. Okay,” he said before she could speak. “We’ve already got plenty of shops and galleries. Artsy, crafty.”
    “I…suppose.”
    “Even the style I’m thinking, which would be upscale, isn’t new, particularly. Boutiquey. Boutiquesque? You know what I’m saying?”
    “Almost.” She shook her head, laughed again. “Duncan, if you’re using me for a sounding board here, I’m flattered. But I don’t know anything about real estate and location and boutiquey shops out there. I don’t go out there.”
    “You know about art and craft.” Okay, he was having a third cookie, even if it made him sick. “About creating it. About selling it.”
    “You mean my crocheting.” She waved a hand at him. “That’s just a paying hobby. It’s just something I stumbled into.”
    “Okay. How about stumbling my way? I’ve got this idea. Don’t you love getting ideas? I always got ideas, but I couldn’t do anything with most of them. Now I can. It’s a rush, let me tell you.”
    “So I can see.”
    “The idea is arts and crafts by Savannahians. Products created only in Savannah. Only Savannah,” he repeated, narrowing his eyes. “Might be a good name for it. I should write that down. Savannah arts and crafts,” he continued as he dug out his cell phone, cued up his memo function. “Created by Savannahians, displayed and sold in a gorgeous two-story wooden house that symbolizes Savannah. It’s got this great porch, or it will be great. I know this guy who does amazing furniture. Tongue and groove. And this woman who does amazing things with wrought iron. So we could…getting ahead of myself,” he said when he noted she was just staring at him.
    “You want to carry some of my crocheting in your shop?”
    “Essie, I want to carry buckets of it, trunkloads of it. I want to have it spread all through the place. What do you call them—doilies?—on tables, throws on the sofas. You said you did bedspreads, right? How about tablecloths, like that? And clothes. Sweaters, scarves.”
    “Well, yes, but…”
    “See, we’d have rooms set up. Just like a home. Bedrooms, dining room, parlors. So we’d display your work that way. For sale, sure, but also part of the ambience, you know? Baby stuff in the nursery, scarves, sweaters in the wardrobes. You could keep doing your own Internet sales if you want. But we could take care of that for you, expand