She grinned and sat back down again. "Very nice to meet you, sir."
"Pleasure to meet you, too, young lady. Has this boy been giving you any trouble? Because I can take him back home and make sure he's busy rounding up guinea pigs or something."
Jen wondered if this was going to be more challenging than she'd thought, but they were mostly going to be on the roof so she still wanted to go ahead.
"No, Keith is great. I'm excited to hear what you guys think about this roof."
They both sat down, and Keith unfolded what looked like a paper towel with a lot of lines and numbers on it.
"I was up the other night and couldn't sleep. I think I have a good idea about how to keep the costs low and while we can't replace with shingles because of fire hazards —"
"All the codes are different now. Why, back in the day —" Earl interrupted.
Keith interrupted him right back. "She doesn't want to hear about any back in the day stuff. It's today. Just today."
"Right," Earl said, nodding gravely.
Keith continued, and Jen knew enough about remodels and new roofs to agree —he had definitely come up with something innovative and cost-effective. She was pretty sure her brother and her dad would be okay with it, but it was reasonable enough that she could probably swing it on her own if she had to.
"How's it going?" Joe said from the gate, with Boris in tow.
Jen introduced him to Keith and Earl, and Joe stayed and listened in. They decided to talk again on the following Monday, and hopefully start the project that week.
Jen waved to Keith and Earl as they climbed into the orange truck.
"Now that is an interesting team," Joe said finally after they'd driven away.
Jen shook her head and ran her hand through her hair.
"You don't know the half of it."
"You sure?" Joe asked, his eyebrows raised.
"Positive," Jen said. "I called references, I think they're funny and charming, and his drawing was spot on. He even had a good idea that I hadn't thought of that'll keep the costs down."
"That's great, then." Joe glanced up at the gathering clouds. "Just in time, too. We've been lucky that there's been no storm to go with the wind. Good they can get right on it so you don't end up with a waterfall in your bedroom."
"Oh, bite your tongue. Don't jinx me. Everything's been going so well, I just need the weather to hold out for a little bit longer."
"Done. Sending good weather thoughts your way. Got any coffee?"
"Sure," Jen said with a laugh, heading into the kitchen as he opened the door for her. "Won't be as good as your mom's, but I have some."
"I beg to differ. I've become quite enamored with your coffee. There's something special about it."
Jen smiled as she poured him a cup, and was pleased she'd made so much progress and it was still early. It was looking as if it was going to be a good day. Just the way she liked it.
Sixteen
"Thank you for all your help. I don't know how I did it without you before. What a blessing."
Faith meant every single word of it. Cassandra had started in the classroom the previous Monday and it was like Faith's world changed in an instant. Cassandra was organized, creative, kind and patient with the kids —all the things Faith would have asked for if she'd had the chance.
She had thanked Amy in her head more times than she could count, so decided to stop by her office on the way out to thank her in person.
"I thought you'd feel that way," Amy said with a wide smile as she leaned back in her chair in the principal's office. "I knew she was a keeper right away. So I'll thank you, too, for taking her under your wing. She'll be even better when I can give her her own classroom in January. Learning from the best."
Faith's cheeks heated. She'd often thought that the new teachers were so much more energetic, had learned so much more than she had in school even though she knew that her sharing her experience was something that would be valuable for any young teacher coming into the profession.
"She'll be getting her own classroom in January?" Faith asked, realizing that meant she'd only have a few months with Cassandra.
Amy nodded and leaned forward on her desk, glancing at the big white board on her desk that listed teachers, classrooms and assignments.
"I hope I'll be able to. I kind of stepped out on a limb. It'll completely depend on whether or not someone decides to retire early."
Faith thanked her again and left her principal studying the board. She hoped that Cassandra would find a spot, but in the meantime, she was just grateful for the help.
In fact, she was so grateful that she'd decided to call Maggy and pitch the idea of taking on extra duties at the shop. She'd had an opportunity to rest this past week —even design and make some pillows, which she hadn't had time for in quite a long time. She felt refreshed, in control of her life. She'd gone over her budget several times, and the extra money would go a long way toward shaving off years she needed to work to make full retirement benefits, and she wanted to do it.
"Mom, I don't know. I really think you need to slow down, not speed up."
Faith was silent for a moment, not sure how she felt about that statement. Sure, she was technically retirement age but after this week, she felt, if not full of energy, at least competent. But she understood her daughter's concern and appreciated her for it.
"Sweetheart, I totally get it. I deserve that. I've been burning the candle at both ends for quite a while. But with the extra money from the shop and the help in the classroom, this feels like a really good thing to do.
Maggy sighed loudly enough that Faith could hear it over the phone, and Faith knew she needed to give it a little more of a push.
"I can try it for a little while and if it doesn't work out, I can think of a plan B."
"Mom, what plan B? Patti's leaving. Leaving the country."
"Patti and I talked about hiring someone else during the week, and I'll just make sure that person can cover on the weekends, even if I have to do the books and accounting."
"Mom, I —"
"I know you're just worried about me, and I appreciate it," Faith said, so certain that this was the right decision that she was willing to bring out the big guns.
"Even if it doesn't make total sense, I just feel it's the right thing to do. Like I'm supposed to. Meant to be."
This wasn't the first time she'd said something like this to Maggy. Her daughter had heard her talk about karma, and destiny and just knowing when something felt right for many, many years so it kind of took the oomph out of her argument.
"Unfair," Maggy said with a laugh. "You know I can't argue. Intuition, and all that."
Faith smiled and knew her daughter was right. Faith couldn't argue with it, and neither could Maggy.
"Good, then. It's settled. I'll tell Patti tomorrow and I'm sure she'll leave soon. Meantime, I'll figure out how to get her covered during the week."
"I can come and help on the weekends, now that volleyball season is over. Just call if you need me, but maybe I'll plan to come up next weekend anyway."
Faith always felt better when she was going to see Maggy, and this time was no different.
"That'd be great, honey. Jen and Carrie will be happy to see you, and we can invite Bethany, too."
"Nice," Maggy said. "I'll plan on it. And Mom?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Just promise me that if it's more than you thought it would be, that you're honest about it. We can figure out the rest of the stuff. It's not worth you getting too stressed —or worse."
Maggy had had an aunt on her father's side treated for breast cancer when she was around ten years old, and it had really frightened her. Faith knew that Maggy harbored fears that the same thing might happen to her mother, but Faith wasn't about to take any risks with her own health. Precisely why she'd decided to quit before all of the planets aligned and changed the game.
"I promise, honey. I really do."
Maggy let
out a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I love you."
Faith's heart swelled. She was a lucky mom, and she knew it.
"I love you too, honey. See you next weekend."
There were lots of hoops Faith needed to jump through between now and then, but it was her intention to prove to Maggy that all was well, she could handle this and that it was going to be one of the best decisions she'd ever made.
Seventeen
Carrie jumped up as a wooden shingle clanked on the deck right next to her. She picked it up and held it out to Faith.
"So you going ahead with the roof? At this rate, you won't have any of these left pretty soon."
"No kidding. With this wind we get at night, they're coming off like crazy. And yes, I did get ahold of that quirky contractor and he's coming on Monday to pick up a check for supplies. He can start next week."
Faith wrestled the cork out of the bottle of chardonnay Jen had put on ice earlier. "That's a good thing. Your dad and brother were okay with it? That has to be a pretty penny."
Jen nodded. She hadn't called them yet, but had thought about it all day. They'd let her stay in the house and not insisted on selling it, and asked that she'd just be in charge of any urgent renovations —and this was urgent.
She set the new shingle in the stack with the others. "I'm just going to go ahead. I'm positive it's a very good price compared to other contractors around here, and it'll protect their investment. When I put it to them that way, they won't object. And besides, they both have money."
Jen took the foil off the mini French onion soup bites she'd made for their Friday night happy hour and passed it around to her eager and appreciative friends.
"How do you come up with all this weird stuff?" Carrie asked. "Don't get me wrong —I love it. But some of this stuff I've never even heard of."
"I'm still going through Nana's things. This is from the fifties and apparently was very popular back then. I should make it for Mrs. Grover and Mrs. Russo. See if they'd remember."
"So culinary history through appetizers. That would be an interesting book," Faith said as she took a bite herself and nodded with approval. "This is really good."
Jen picked up one of the mini French onion soup cups and took a bite. It was warm and rich —definitely one of the better recipes she'd found in Nana's collection.
"Yeah, right. I wouldn't buy a book like that but I bet a lot of people who know how to boil water would. Well, I'd buy it if you wrote it." Carrie laughed while she helped herself to seconds.
"That isn't my intention, but it's kind of fun, isn't it? We get to try stuff that's different. And you guys can be my guinea pigs and tell me what's horrible."
"Ugh. Beets. No on the beets," Carrie said, taking a sip of wine as if to get the memory off her palate.
"Agreed. It took me forever to get the purple off my hands, anyway. Not worth it. Although I am sure there are plenty of silent beet lovers."
"My dad is one, but I don't care," Carrie added, again shaking her head. "My mother may be a lot of things, but at least she wasn't the kind who made me eat stuff I couldn't stand."
Jen nodded. "Yeah, same. I didn't do that to my kids. I did ask them to try things once —one bite —so that they'd know what they liked and what they didn't."
"Oh, my gosh, the first time I fed Maggy bananas, she smiled at me —she couldn't have been even a year old yet. Then proceeded to spit them back out. Still smiling. Never ate a banana again."
"See? Now she knows what she likes and what she doesn't. But how can you hate bananas?"
Faith shrugged. "In her DNA, I guess. I backed off on the weird stuff for a while."
"Bananas aren't weird. Heck, they're a staple for me," Carrie said. "Perfect. Portable. No cooking required."
"I didn't back off," Jen said. "By the time Michael was two and could tell me what he wanted for his birthday dinner, he asked for chicken curry. And extra spicy, too."
"Ha, I remember that," Faith said. "It was hilarious."
Carrie nodded. "I do, too. Man, that was a long time ago. And now he's going to have one of his own. Unbelievable."
"He's sure grown up into a nice man," Faith said. "How did it go last weekend with the house. The wind and the fires?"
Jen took a sip of wine and nodded. "Good. They said that there were more eucalyptus leaves on the ground than on the trees by the time it was over, but that what fires did break out weren't close."
"What a relief," Carrie said. "Glad we don't have to worry about that down here. Floods and winds are bad enough but being in fire territory —I'd probably never sleep."
Jen had been thinking about that a lot. The house she and her late husband had built by hand was definitely in a fire zone, and she worried constantly when the wind came up. It wouldn't take much for it to go up in flames, and with it vacant, she worried even more.
"I've been losing a little sleep to it, to be honest. Been rolling around ideas. I know Michael and Amber are cramped right now in that tiny apartment, and it's going to feel even smaller when the baby comes."
"Ah, I see where this is headed," Faith said. "Maybe they could stay in the house?"
"Or rent it or something? I don't know. I'm not sure if it's the right thing to do to just let them stay there, even though they'd be helping. It's a little confusing. And Max was supposed to be there, but won't be back full time until after Thanksgiving."
"Hm. I'm not sure what I'd do. You have options, though, since you don't have a mortgage. I wouldn't be able to do that," Faith said.
"No, but your house helped you put Maggy through college. And get her MBA, too. Look at her now," Carrie added.
"True," Faith said.
"It is true, Faith. All of our situations are different. We just need to decide how to move forward," Jen said.
They asked more questions about the appetizers Jen had prepared, and let her know which were keepers and which they could pass on. And finally, Jen thought it was about time to find out from Faith what she'd decided. She'd talked to her several times during the week, but hadn't gotten a final answer.
"And speaking of moving forward, have you decided what to do about the boutique?"
Jen and Carrie both smiled when Faith took a deep breath, smiled at both of them and said, "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I'm going to do it. And I can't wait."
Eighteen
Faith thought Patti might cry when Faith told her the next day that she'd be willing to take over management of the store during her buying trip.
"Oh, Faith, I've been hoping against hope all week. I even put a help wanted sign in the door first thing Monday morning. You know, manifesting what I wanted to happen."
Faith did know —it was something that she tried to do, too. She just wasn't as skilled at it as Patti was, apparently.
Patti dropped a lined piece of paper on the glass counter at the register. "I made a list of everyone who's ever worked here and their phone numbers. I thought maybe we could start there. Never hurts to ask, does it? Whoever we hire is going to have to open up for us Wednesday through Friday, so it'll have to be someone we trust. I only gave you names of people I didn't have to fire."
Faith had intended to dust the shelves first thing and re-arrange what inventory they did have to make it appear there was more. Since she'd just told Patti she'd take over management duties, she supposed this was more fitting —but she didn't want to do it.
It was part of the job, though, so she just started dialing. It took all morning for her to get through the list of names, and she'd had to leave some messages. No one that she had actually reached was willing or interested. People were either happy in their jobs, had had babies or moved away. It wasn't very encouraging.
"Patti, no luck so far. I've left a few messages for people to call me back, but so far no takers.”
"Darn it," Patti said. "We're going to run out of inventory soon. I ran to Mexico on Monday and Tuesday and bought what I could, but there really wasn't a lot of things that were a
ppropriate. I need to go further across the border, and maybe to Thailand."
Faith thought that sounded marvelous, and she really did want Patti to be able to go. She began to open the boxes and price the items that Patti had been able to purchase, and set about arranging them on the shelves. It helped a little bit, but not much. And as Patti said, the new items were pretty standard —any tourist could pick them up on a day trip to across the border. They really did need some more upscale, unique items.
Customer traffic was slow but steady, and it was almost time to close when Faith looked up and smiled at their newest customer.
"Mrs. Grover. How nice to see you," Faith said, giving the older lady a quick hug. "I'm surprised to see you here."
Mrs. Grover inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. "I told you the other night I love it here. I love the patchouli, and after I leave, my clothes still smell like it."
Faith laughed and wondered what other interesting things she didn't know about her. "Can I help you with anything?"
"No, I'm just browsing," Mrs. Grover said, and she headed over toward the incense display.
Faith grabbed her phone when it buzzed. She'd heard back from all but one of the prior employees she'd called, and she crossed her fingers that maybe this one —their last hope —would be the one.
After a few minutes, she clicked off the call and set her phone on the glass jewelry case. "Ugh," she said, dropping her head in her hands.
"What is it?" Patti asked, poking her head out of the back room.
"That was the last chance, Patti. Nobody on the list is willing to come back."
"Did you tell them it was only temporary? They could make some extra money," Patti said with a twinge of a whine in her voice.
"I did. I tried everything."
Patti tossed her ponytail back over her shoulder. "Oh, fiddle. That won't do at all. I have to leave." She gestured around the boutique, almost a look of panic on her face. "We're down to bare bones here. It's an emergency."
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