“Now you have yourself a splendid weekend, Nina.” His smile seemed both genuine and sinister. It gave her the chills.
“Yes, you too, Spencer. I’ll make sure to handle what needs to be done.”
“That’s why we have such faith in you, Nina.”
Nina ended the call in frustration, then smiled when she remembered her date with Daphne.
Tomorrow was the grand-opening extravaganza of her antique shop, and Nina couldn’t wait to bask in the joy and sense of pride Daphne would surely charge the room with. But first, they had tonight.
* * *
That night Daphne had brought dinner over to Nina’s house. With the opening of her antique shop the next morning, her anxiety would’ve had her fidgeting at the table if they’d gone to a restaurant, or skulking through each room of the house if she’d stayed in and tried to go to bed early. She’d thought of a different, more appetizing way to burn the excess energy, but it was Nina’s weekend with Noah, so it was Plan B.
She walked into Nina’s house with her bags full of prepared food, and to her surprise and delight, Nina dashed toward her with hugs and kisses before she could lay her supplies down.
They landed against the counter, entwined in each other’s arms.
“What are you doing?” Daphne asked when Nina stopped smothering her in kisses. “Are you okay?”
“I am now,” Nina said. “I had the worst day, and it’s so much better since you walked in.”
Daphne sighed. What a moment, seeing Nina so vulnerable with her emotions, relying on her to be the rock for a change. Daphne had never been the rock before. She and Ann Marie, or Savannah, were so young when they got together, Savannah, with her domineering personality, had always handled important matters. Now here she was being the emotional support for one of the strongest, bravest women she knew. By default, that must’ve made her a strong woman, too.
“Do you want to help me cook, or would you rather relax with a glass of wine while I get everything together?”
“The wine is a no-brainer,” Nina said, waving an empty wineglass in front of her. “What’s in those bags?”
“All the fixin’s for personal pizzas,” Daphne replied as she refilled Nina’s glass and poured herself one. “I have everything we need and every imaginable topping. Except pineapple. This isn’t Hawaii.”
Nina sprawled in the chair as she sipped her wine. “You look awfully cute in a domestic role. Can I just watch you make them?”
“I’d planned to come over wearing only an apron but…” Daphne leaned over and kissed Nina’s sticky wine lips.
“Good call.” Nina nodded toward Noah standing in the archway. “But let’s not take that idea off the table.”
“I’m hungry,” Noah said.
“Can you say hi first?” Nina said.
Noah padded into the kitchen and gave Daphne a quick hug without being encouraged. Daphne pretty much melted as she locked eyes with Nina.
“This is ‘make your own pizza’ night,” Daphne told him. “You pick your toppings and put it all together.”
Noah’s face lit up. He dashed to the sink, and after washing his hands, he immersed them into the blob of dough Daphne set out for him. They horsed around pretending to be Italian pizza chefs, flinging flour, shredded cheese, and toppings around on each other’s flattened-out dough.
Noticing Nina’s persistent giggles, Daphne yanked her up to join them, and before long, everyone’s dreadful week evaporated in the warmth of family and a preheated oven.
* * *
That night Nina brushed her teeth while Daphne sat in bed, checking her phone, her forehead wrinkled with what seemed like concern.
“Everything okay, honey?” Nina said through a mouthful of toothpaste foam.
“I hope. I texted Sophie’s son this morning, but he hasn’t responded. I stopped in to see her after work yesterday, and she just didn’t seem herself—well, even less than usual.”
Nina didn’t like the sound of that, but she refused to suggest anything but positivity on the eve of such an important day for Daphne. “I’m sure he’ll get back to you. He probably had a hectic week like the rest of us.”
Daphne placed her phone on the nightstand and smiled. “You’re probably right.”
Nina crawled into bed and cozied up to her. “Aren’t you exhausted? You have such a big day tomorrow. You need to get some rest.”
“I can’t. I’m so wired. Today I walked out of a job I’ve had my entire adult life. It still doesn’t seem real. When Sunday night comes around, I’ll probably start making my lunch for the week.”
“That must’ve been an empowering experience.”
“It was,” Daphne said. “Store-bought farewell cake, a gift card to Panera, and the only coworker I truly loved, Pascale, a grown man, blubbering in the corner of the kitchen.”
Nina giggled. “You lived out my exact fantasy for the last two years.”
“It felt wonderful knowing I never have to go back to that call-center cubby and listen to angry, frantic travelers yell at me about their cancelled flights anymore. But it’s scary. I don’t think I’ve felt the full impact yet.”
“Try not to stew about that now,” Nina said. “You have way bigger things on the horizon.”
“I’m so nervous about that, too. But also excited.”
“Just be excited, baby. It’s going to be a blast.” She nuzzled closer. “Your shelves are fully stocked, our advertising blitz was sure to reach a massive audience, and well, as usual, you can count on me for ancillary support.”
“You just want to see if your marketing campaign was a success,” Daphne said and pinched Nina’s sides with a naughty grin.
“I am a little curious,” Nina said. “But honestly, Daph. Tomorrow is all about you and that big, old Make it Happen vision board of yours. Be ecstatic. You’re making your biggest dream on there come to life.”
“I’ve made my two biggest items on there a reality. And if you ask me, finding true love is harder than opening your own business.”
“What?” Nina feigned surprise. “For you it was easier than stealing a lamp from a divorcee.”
“Ha-ha. I see what you did there.”
Nina reached around and pulled Daphne’s head toward her for a kiss. “I’ve always believed in true love. I was just never looking in the right direction for it. Until now.”
Daphne slid down on the pillow to meet Nina face-to-face. “I just wish Sophie could be there with us tomorrow.”
“Maybe she can. Try her son again first thing in the morning.”
Daphne nodded. “So you never finished your work story. What happened with your boss?”
Nina sighed. “What always happens. I get a curt, condescending little speech that ends with him saying ‘Run it past the board.’”
“I’m sorry, baby.” Daphne squeezed her closer.
“Meh. That’s why they pay me the big bucks. Anyway, tomorrow I get to live vicariously through you and the debut of your sensational new career.”
“Ooh, that sounds kind of vampirish. I have a succubus for a girlfriend,” Daphne said, pecking at Nina’s lips. “That’s hot.”
Chapter Twenty-one
After a night of tossing and turning, maybe actually sleeping for an hour or two before dawn approached, the alarm jarred Daphne awake—and that jarred Nina awake.
“Sorry, babe,” Daphne said.
“What’s the matter?” Nina touched her chest above the V-neck opening in her T-shirt. “You’re all clammy.”
Daphne lay as still as a corpse, her heart drubbing against her rib cage. Her throat was parched, and she couldn’t stop shaking. “I think I’m having a panic attack.”
Nina hovered over her. “What? Why?”
“Nina, I quit my job yesterday.” Daphne forced herself to swallow.
“Yes, I know. We talked about this last night.”
“How could I have been so impetuous, so reckless?”
“Honey, you aren’t eith
er of those. You left the airline to pursue your dream of being a business owner. Remember the vision board?”
Still prone and motionless, Daphne nodded and licked her dry lips as she tried to tap out a rhythm on the inside of her arm to calm her raging nervous system. “I also remember having a stable job with a regular income and health insurance.”
“Do you also remember feeling miserable, suffocated, and uninspired?”
Daphne nodded. “Is it too early for a shot of tequila?”
Nina checked the clock. “Seven thirty? Yeah, I’d say so.” She patted Daphne’s arm. “Honey, you’re just having an attack of nerves. Why don’t you get out of bed and move around a little. Maybe that’ll help.”
“Nope,” Daphne said, shaking her head. “I’m gonna stay here for another minute. Or hour. Or day. Whatever.”
Nina repositioned herself beside her, reaching under the covers for her hand. “Listen, Daph. What you’re feeling now, nervous—”
“Terrified.”
“Okay.” Nina continued in a soft, soothing tone. “What you’re feeling is normal. You’re taking a huge leap in your life. Starting something brand-new is going to freak anyone out a little. You’re like the bravest woman I know,” she said, shaking their clutched hands for emphasis. “And even if this antique shop fails, you’ll always have under your belt the accomplishment of facing your greatest fear.”
Daphne’s stomach plummeted even further. “What do you mean, if it fails? You said it won’t.”
“Well, uh, I was just…All right, look. That was a worst-case scenario. Of course it won’t fail.” Clearly frustrated with herself, Nina ran her hands over her face. “Listen to me, Daphne. Are you listening?”
Daphne nodded and forced her scattered attention on Nina’s firm, reassuring expression.
“Think of it this way,” Nina said, fully composed. “When our baggage is too heavy, airlines make us lighten our load so we can fly. And we do it. We may complain a little, but we do it so we can fly. Think about that.”
When Nina leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, Daphne closed her eyes and let the warmth and comfort from her lips radiate through her body.
“You want to fly, Daphne, and I want to see you do it. Let go of the fear.” She released her grip on Daphne’s hand and stood up.
Daphne gazed up at Nina’s confident posture, those fiery eyes full of encouragement and something clicked. She flung the covers aside and rose triumphantly to her feet. She faced Nina, grabbed her shoulders, and kissed her on the lips. “Thank you.”
Nina wrapped her arms around Daphne’s waist and pulled her in like a warm wave, drenching her with confidence. “You got this, baby,” she said softly against her ear.
Daphne nodded and rested her forehead against Nina’s for a moment. “I’ll jump in the shower, and then we’ll get this show on the road.”
As the tepid water ran over her face, Daphne realized that all of Nina’s advice and pep talks had seeped in. Her once-debilitating thoughts of inevitable failure were slowly dissolving and sliding toward the drain in the sudsy water. Meeting Nina felt like a gift from the universe—the wind beneath her wings or the hard-core kick in the ass she’d needed to embrace a new journey without letting fear drive her off her path.
She was ready for this dream to come true.
* * *
They arrived at Trash to Treasure Antiques and Collectibles a half hour before opening. Daphne had stocked the shelves during the week, so they only needed to complete some cosmetic touches. After lighting sandalwood candles inside and fastidiously repositioning items such as a Soufflenheim pottery roaster, a vintage French glazed pottery pitcher, and an antique French lidded jug and goblets, she headed outside to festoon the front.
Noah climbed and stretched to help hang banners and loved using the rented helium tank to fill the balloons, under Nina’s supervision. When he came outside clutching a handful of gold and silver balloons, Daphne said he could string them up wherever he saw fit.
Nina then appeared, flashing a close-lipped grin. She consulted her watch, then said, “Good luck, baby,” in a helium-possessed voice.
Daphne desperately needed the ensuing laugh to cut the tension thrumming in her temples. “Why does your goofy side always surprise me?”
Nina took another hit from the open balloon. “I go to great lengths to keep it a secret.” She winked, then nodded toward the parking lot to a couple of women headed straight for the shop. “It’s showtime.”
Daphne smiled as a surge of eagerness tingled through her, and they all bolted inside and assumed their positions out of the fray toward the back of the store.
About fifteen minutes later the shop was buzzing with patrons. Nina gave Daphne a nudge to step out into the room and make her presence known in case anyone had a question. She reminded her of one of the first rules of small business: let the customers know that they’re worth more than just a sale. After approaching several safe-looking older women, Daphne had her schmooze groove on point—and it was so effective that it resulted in her first sale.
As the shop steadily filled with people, Daphne wasn’t able to keep as close an eye on each new customer. But Pascale was tall and lanky enough to stand out.
“So, this is what you left me for,” he said, his arms spread out like eagle wings.
“Pascale,” Daphne squealed as she accosted him with a hug.
“The place looks great,” he said, taking it all in. “I’m proud of you, kid. Now where are the lonely, middle-aged chicks with enough disposable income to splurge on pricey antiques?”
“Whoa. You’re finally off the Gen-Zers. It’s a day for miracles.”
“Not off. Just willing to expand my horizons.” He ran his hand through his wavy brown hair like he was a brooding underwear model.
Daphne smirked. “Well, even the tiniest amount of personal growth is worth noting. Thank you so much for coming today.”
“No problem. And just because you’re not working with me anymore doesn’t mean we’re not gonna be friends. You better stay in touch.” His eyes seemed to get misty with sincerity.
“Pascale? Are you getting choked up?”
He cleared his throat. “No. You are.”
“Listen,” she said. “If we don’t get together for beer and pizza at least once a month, I’ll be furious with you. And I still expect rude texts about Galena and the other hot messes at Sky-Hi.”
“Goes without saying.”
Daphne was about to reply when someone from behind accidentally bumped into Pascale, lurching him toward her.
“Oh. Sorry, buddy,” the woman said. “This pedestal is heavier than I thought.”
“Olive, so good to see you,” Daphne said. “This is Olive, the contractor. She’s the one who single-handedly whipped this place into shape.”
“’Sup?” she said to Pascale.
“Pleasure to meet you.” He gently took Olive’s hand and kissed the top of it.
“I don’t think you can do that without asking these days,” Daphne mumbled out the side of her mouth.
“Well, look at you, all black-and-white-movie debonair,” Olive said to him, beaming.
“I guess you can,” Daphne said to herself.
“Your craftsmanship is flawless,” Pascale said.
“Oh, jeez.” Daphne slipped away from them with ease as they’d clearly forgotten she was standing there.
Noticing that Nina had receded into the shadows, she searched and found her at the entrance to the storeroom. Sipping her coffee, Nina gave her a smile over the lid of the cup and a thumbs-up. Daphne wheeled around toward the front of the shop, relishing that singular, fleeting epoch when everything—the stars, the planets, the ebb and flow of the universe—felt aligned in harmony.
And then it happened.
Like a funnel cloud descending on a defenseless prairie town, Savannah Locke swept into the store flanked by two young, dashing gay boys. Flying monkeys. The thought flashed in and out of Daphne’
s mind. Savannah had developed a klatch of hangers-on since hitting the YouTube big time and, as a result, never traveled sans an entourage.
Daphne stepped behind an antique coat rack on which hung vintage clothing items, and peered around a musty-smelling London Fog raincoat for signs of the mad Dr. Francesca-stein, gastric-bypass surgeon to the wannabe stars. Savannah had apparently not brought her.
“What are you doing?”
She flinched at Nina’s voice emanating from behind, then whirled around. “Do you know who that is?”
Nina studied Savannah for a moment. “I’m tempted to say a white Billy Porter, but I know it’s not.”
“That’s Savannah, my ex.” Daphne’s eyes remained fixed on her as her angst thwarted her effort to be low-key.
“Is that so?” An evil grin spread across Nina’s face. “What are you waiting for? Go say hi and show her around your fabulous new shop.”
She studied Nina in surprise. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Nina replied with a resolute nod.
“Yeah,” Daphne said. Light was suddenly dawning. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’ll do.”
Nina patted her butt like a football coach, and Daphne sauntered over to Savannah, who was browsing the small assemblage of antique costume jewelry.
“Hello, Savannah,” Daphne said, her voice smooth as crushed velvet. “Welcome to my world of antiques.”
Savannah swung around like a well-rehearsed diva. “Why, Daphne, hello. This is your place?”
“Give me a break, Savannah. You know it is.” Daphne did a double take at the resting bitch faces on the boys bookending her like they were security guards. As if.
Savannah rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. Maybe I’d heard you were finally opening up the store you were always going on about.”
Daphne bristled. Savannah had always been snarky and condescending, even before she’d had the tiniest reason to be, but now she was just plain awful. “So you had to come by and cast a spell of negativity on it, assuming it’ll fail.”
One Woman’s Treasure Page 23