Visit the antique shop

"All The Finest Things" was larger than it looked, because although the storefront wasn't particularly large, the building itself was as deep as it was old. The interior was beautiful, with old stone walls, a wooden floor that was polished but still seemed original, and a tin ceiling.

The new merchandise was in the front, and moving back through the store was like moving back in time. Scanning the store, my eye was drawn to what appeared to be a fire poker, displayed leaning against the fireplace. It had an intricately carved wooden handle and appeared to be very old. It wasn't until I picked it up that I realized it was a branding iron. The head was a letter H, in the familiar font of the Havenhall plantation. I felt my heart race as I stared at the iron branding head. It was ancient, cold, and inert, but all it would take would be a few minutes in the wooden fireplace for it to be ready for use.

"Don't let me catch you stealing nothing, girl, or I'll wallop your behind!" a stern female voice shouted out. Startled, I turned around, barely catching an antique vase before it crashed to the ground. Margaret Wilson rushed up from the back of the store, quickly taking first the vase, and then the iron from my hands.

"I was just joking, sweetie. My, you are a clumsy thing. I guess someone won't be working in the kitchen. Of course, you seem like more an upstairs maid to me."

Her tone was playful and teasing, but there was a gleam in her eye and a slight emphasis on the word "upstairs" that reminded me of her obvious interest in me.

"I love the building," I said, trying to divert her gaze from my body. "When was it constructed?"

"1803. Of course they didn't sell antiques then. It was a dry goods store originally. For farmers."

"Is that what the branding head was for?" I asked, circling around to what I wanted to know. "It looks too small the brand cattle. Sheep, maybe?" I asked hopefully.

"No, it wasn't for sheep," she chuckled. "Although it was for branding livestock."

"May I hold it again?" I asked.

"I don't think that would be appropriate, Melissa," she said pleasantly. "This object isn't actually for sale. It belongs to an acquaintance of mine, and he prefers to treat objects in a way that's respectful of their history, and of their original purpose. A girl like you wouldn't be touching this, at least, not by the handle," she said, indicating the beautifully beveled grip.

Margaret held up the branding head and waved it in front of my face. "Although the other end might touch you... on your other end!"

Margaret chuckled cheerfully, as if branding the Havenhall logo onto my bottom was a playful diversion, like face painting, or braiding a little girl's hair. I felt my cheeks involuntarily clench together as Margaret took note of my reaction to the waving the branding iron in front of me, before finally returning it to its place by the roaring fire.

"Your store lives up to its name," I said, looking around. "Your inventory is amazing. All the finest things, indeed."

"We kept the name from Antebellum times, although it didn't sell antiques then," she said.

"What did you sell?" I asked, before realizing that I was insulting Margaret by implying she had been around in the early 19th century.

She seemed unfazed. "Why slaves, of course. Fancies mostly. The finest Charleston had to offer. A lot of our antiques date from that period. We keep the more "sensitive" antiques in the backroom, if you'd like to see. It's where they used to keep the "inventory" in the 1840's."

Margaret smiled. "Perhaps I can close the store a little early, and we can go back, where I can show you the private collection."

I hesitated. Margaret took my hand, and began gently stroke it as she looked me up and down. "You're a might fine catch, Melissa. If it were 1840, you might have been up for sale here, and I would have taken you into the backroom... whether you wanted to go or not."

Margaret tightened her grip on me, at least until I jerked my hand back. Margaret laughed.

Margaret pointed to a wooden door, decorated with a beautifully carved rendition of the state of South Carolina seal. "Come on. You have to admit you're a bit... curious."