What Matters Most

by Beers, Georgia

  ***

  “I’m really going to miss this place,” a nice-looking woman in yoga clothes said to Kelsey, as she placed a Bed of Pine Needles candle in her hand basket. “I mean, I know you weren’t here that long, but I really love your stuff. I’m sad you’re closing.”

  “Thank you,” Kelsey said. “I appreciate that.”

  It had been that way all day, customers buying up the remaining stock while lamenting how much they were going to miss Common Scents. The other repeated comment was a question: are you opening somewhere else? That was the hard one to answer. Maybe down the line, she could try again. Kelsey knew that. But for the time being, it just wasn’t in the cards. More than once, she quietly headed to her office in the back to pull herself together. The emotion was unexpected.

  Also unexpected was the end of contact from Theresa.

  It was almost as if she’d gotten wind of the conversation Kelsey and Chris had had the previous night and had decided that was it, she’d had enough. For the past two weeks, Kelsey had received at least one text a day from Theresa. Sometimes more, but always at least one. The begging and apologies had changed to simple “thinking of you” statements that came at the end of the day, usually between five and six, probably once Theresa was home from work. And Kelsey had grown to expect them. To rely on them. And she hadn’t even realized it until yesterday. When they’d stopped.

  She woke up that morning to still no new texts, which meant she didn’t get one at all yesterday. It was now closing in on five in the afternoon and she had received nothing from Theresa yet. She was surprised how much that bothered her.

  You really screwed this one up.

  Chris was on a plane on her way back to Boston, but her critical voice was still lodged uncomfortably—and loudly—in Kelsey’s head. Had been all day long.

  “Thank God,” Kelsey muttered when the intercom sounded and Jeremy, who’d come in early to help with the sale, told her she had a phone call. Anything to take her mind off this crap. “Hello?”

  “Kelsey? It’s Stephanie Bradley.”

  “Hey, Steph. How are you?” Kelsey was always happy to hear from the Earthly Products rep.

  “Better than you, apparently. What’s this I hear about you closing? I was just there a couple weeks ago.”

  God, she hated this. She hated having to tell the story because it felt like admitting her failure, even though it was no such thing. She gave Stephanie the abbreviated version.

  “Well, that sucks,” Stephanie said bluntly, and Kelsey burst out laughing because she really had summed it up perfectly.

  “It totally does. And thank you for saying so.”

  “Listen...” There was a pause, as if Stephanie was gathering her thoughts before voicing them. “This might actually be perfect.”

  “What might?” Kelsey sat back in her chair.

  “I got a promotion. That’s one of the reasons I was calling. They’re bumping me up to Manager of Midwest Sales.”

  “Stephanie! That’s fantastic! Congratulations. You must be thrilled.” Kelsey’s grin was wide. Stephanie was good at her job and Kelsey had no doubts she’d continue to succeed. “You’ll be managing other reps?”

  “Exactly. There are twelve reps in the Midwest, and I’ll be overseeing them and their sales.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “Which leaves my current position open...” She let her voice trail off and waited for Kelsey to catch up.

  “Oh.” Kelsey nodded as Stephanie’s words sank in. Then she sat upright in her chair. “Oh!”

  “There you are,” Stephanie said with a laugh. “Honestly, I think you’d be great and you really seem to like our products and believe in what we’re doing. That goes a long way in selling them.”

  “Your products are awesome,” Kelsey said with conviction.

  “I get to help hire my own replacement, so you’d already have an in. What do you say? Interested?”

  This was falling right into her lap and that always made Kelsey nervous. Things that seemed too easy made her nervous. Still. She needed a job. She was good at sales (she’d done it before moving to Westland). She believed in the product. Also, she really needed a job.

  “Definitely.”

  “Terrific! E-mail me your resume and I’ll make sure it goes to the top of the pile.”

  Kelsey was clicking along on her computer as Stephanie spoke. “Done.”

  “Great. You know,” Stephanie said, and her voice softened. “I’m really sorry your store is closing, Kels, but at the same time, I think this might be the perfect fit. I’ll be in touch.”

  What just happened?

  Kelsey sat there for a long moment, just staring at the phone. When she finally shifted her gaze to the security monitors, she stared there, too. Sat for a long while and just watched the inner workings of her little scent shop, her dream, the dream she’d made a reality. And even though it hadn’t lasted, she was still proud of it, no matter what her father said. Maybe it was meant to be a short stopover, just a blip in her life. Maybe this was the path she was meant to take. Maybe working for Earthly Products, selling cruelty-free items to others like her, was what she was supposed to be doing next. She had no idea. But weirdly, it felt right.

  Kelsey had no explanation for that.

  Back in the store, she spent the next couple of hours with Jeremy, waiting on customers and offering scent advice to those who asked. She’d definitely miss this part if Stephanie hired her, interacting directly with the end user. Kelsey enjoyed it and was good at it.

  When the last customer left and Kelsey’s watch said 9:05, she locked the front door and sent Jeremy home. As she went through her nightly routine, counting up the cash drawers, adding up the sales, putting money in the little office safe to be taken to the bank tomorrow, she only had one thing on her mind, and it wasn’t the possibility of a new job.

  It was Theresa.

  A glance at her phone told her this was the second day with no text from her and that made it pretty clear to Kelsey that Theresa was finished with her. That was fine, she supposed, except for one thing.

  She wasn’t finished with Theresa.

  ***

  Traffic was fairly light, which wasn’t really a surprise given that it was nearly ten at night. Kelsey blasted the radio, hoping to keep her own thoughts at bay, because the truth was, she had no idea what she was going to say when Theresa answered the door. If Theresa answered the door. For all Kelsey knew, she might not even be home. She might not even be in town. But calling ahead hadn’t been an option. She wanted the element of surprise. For both of them.

  Once she had turned onto Theresa’s street, her radio felt obnoxiously loud, so she turned it off. The fall evening was beautiful, the temperature in the high fifties, the streetlights casting a warm, yellowish glow on the neighborhood, the moon high and full. Theresa’s lights were on inside her house and her car was in the driveway.

  Kelsey’s heart rate went from a jog to a full-on sprint.

  Ten minutes later, she was still sitting in her car, parked in front of Theresa’s house, working on her nerve. It was only when a man walked by with his black lab and gazed at her as he did that Kelsey realized how suspicious she looked sitting in her car on the street in a neighborhood that wasn’t hers at ten o’clock at night.

  “Get moving, Kelsey, before somebody calls the cops on you,” she muttered.

  With a deep, and what she hoped was fortifying, breath, she pulled on the handle and opened the car door. Then she stood looking over the top of her car at the house, which suddenly loomed much larger than life and looked alarmingly daunting, like a haunted mansion in an old-timey horror movie.

  Summoning every ounce of courage she could, she began her trek across the front lawn and up onto the front stoop of Theresa’s house. Where she stood. Doing nothing. Again.

  Kelsey hung her head and stared at her own feet for what seemed like long moments. She wasn’t a woman who was often at a loss, but she felt that way
right now. And it made sense because...she’d put herself here. She’d vilified Theresa—whether she’d intended to or not, that’s exactly what she’d done. She’d acted like a spoiled child and she was annoyed with herself that it had taken Chris to point it out. For God’s sake, she was thirty-one years old—old enough to know better than to behave like she had.

  She was thinking about how disappointed her mother would be in her when the door was pulled open. It startled Kelsey so much that she gave a little yelp and took a step backward, nearly stumbling off the stoop, but catching herself at the last minute. When she’d righted herself, Kelsey looked up into beautiful blue eyes. Beautiful, but not sparkling. Not twinkling. Not soft. Hard. Hard eyes. Stony eyes. Eyes that very clearly stated their owner was not pleased with this intrusion.

  “Theresa.” Kelsey wet her lips, tried not to look away from that unimpressed gaze. “Hi.”

  Theresa said nothing, simply stood leaning against the edge of the front door, not opening it any farther, not making any room for Kelsey to come in.

  “Um, listen,” Kelsey said, then cleared her throat, hating how uncomfortable she was. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  Theresa arched an eyebrow and tilted her head to one side, but said nothing. She didn’t need to; her expression made her thoughts clear. Oh, now you want to talk? She didn’t move. She just waited for Kelsey to continue.

  “So, um...” Kelsey took a deep breath, wishing more than anything that she’d rehearsed some sort of dazzling speech, something that would make Theresa swoop her up in a hug or smile at her or...God, something. Anything besides this silent staring. “Listen. I’ve been thinking and I owe you an apology.”

  Blue eyes stared.

  Kelsey swallowed. Okay, it’s all or nothing here. She really hoped it didn’t end up being nothing. “In my defense, I had just been informed that I wasn’t about to get a possibly-insurmountable rent increase, as I was expecting. That would have at least given me a chance. Instead, I was told I had sixty days to vacate my shop entirely. Close it down. After being open for roughly five months. I had looked for another location in the previous weeks and found nothing I thought I could afford, so I was dealing with the fact that I was going to lose my shop. And I had just spoken with my father about it, and he was his usual less than warm and fuzzy self, and that stung. And I’d been dealing with all of that for less than a couple hours before I confronted you.” She looked at Theresa and was met with the same unemotional gaze. “I know you were just doing your job. I get that now. I should’ve gotten it sooner.” Again, Theresa raised an eyebrow in expectation, as if waiting for Kelsey to say something specific. She gave it a shot. “And I should have responded to your texts and stuff.” That was embarrassing, as she now understood how childish it had been to simply ignore any attempts at contact. “I’m really very sorry.”

  Kelsey was done now. She took a deep breath, blew it out, and waited. A long pause went by before Theresa finally spoke.

  “Is that it?” Her voice was quiet, nearly devoid of any inflection at all.

  Kelsey took a beat. “Um, yeah. I think so.”

  Theresa nodded subtly, then stood up straight and closed the door with a quiet click, leaving Kelsey standing alone on the stoop.

  “Oh,” she said out loud. “Okay then. I guess that’s that.” She gave it another moment before slowly turning away from the door and heading back to her car, feeling such a mix of things, she didn’t know what to do with them all. Relieved that she’d apologized. Thrilled to have laid eyes on Theresa again. Uncomfortable that Theresa hadn’t let her in, had left her standing on the stoop. Disappointed and sad that she had said exactly three words to Kelsey the whole time. And such shame, she didn’t know what to do with it. So many feelings in such a jumble.

  Back in her car, she leaned her forehead against the steering wheel. “Well, that was loads of fun,” she muttered to nobody.

  And then the tears came.

  “Goddamn it,” Kelsey whispered as she kept her head against the steering wheel and wept. She wasn’t sure how long she was there, but when the tears subsided, she dug a tissue out of the glove compartment and wiped her nose, dabbed at the tracks of mascara on her cheeks.

  It was done now. Not the conclusion Kelsey had hoped for, but she really had nobody to blame but herself. Regardless, it was done. She glanced once more at Theresa’s house as she started her car and thought she saw a part in the mini-blinds in the front window close quickly, but she couldn’t be sure. It was dark. Her eyes were swollen. And she was so very sad.

  She put the car in gear and went home.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  OCTOBER 10 STARTED OFF and progressed like any other day at Common Scents. Well, with the exception of the very sparse stock. And the empty shelves. And the way the whole place looked like an unfinished painting with missing pieces and colors creating large holes of nothing on a canvas that was once so vibrant. And had smelled so good.

  A few customers still mingled, walking around hoping to scoop up some as-last-minute-as-possible products, and some of them succeeded. Kelsey had been fairly chipper in the morning, but by mid-afternoon, her mood had tempered, become gray and sad, and though she did her best not to show it, it was almost impossible. She’d caught Jeanine looking at her from across the store more than once, her face etched with sympathy. Kelsey would give her a lame smile back, trying to reassure her that everything was fine. But Jeanine was a mom, and she knew better.

  Deciding she needed a little air, Kelsey went out the front door and wandered down the sidewalk of their little strip mall. The CPA was gone, the windows dark, the inside empty. The tax prep place didn’t look any different than it usually did when it wasn’t tax season: quiet, dark, and uninhabited. The nail salon was still going strong, a sign in the window trumpeting their new address, opening in two weeks just three blocks away. Kelsey felt a pang of envy. Jake’s window sported a very different sign: Going Out of Business After 40 Years. Kelsey’s envy quickly changed to sympathy. Yes, her store was closing, but at least she didn’t have forty years of history behind it. At least it didn’t have her family’s blood running through it. Jake was heartbroken. Kelsey was sure of it.

  And she knew where she was going next. That was also a good thing. Stephanie had offered her a job with Earthly Products the day after receiving her resume, so there’d be no scramble for rent, as Kelsey had been afraid of. She didn’t want to ask her parents for money, even though she knew they’d help. She had the next two days to clean out the store, she’d have Sunday to chill, then she’d start working for Stephanie Monday. No breaks, which was probably good, as Kelsey didn’t want to wallow. Which was the reason she’d turned down the offer from Hannah and Chris to take her out for drinks after she closed tonight. No, she needed to do this alone and then get herself ready for the next chapter in her life.

  Things were moving quickly and that was good. But despite the bright future ahead, her heart still ached. She was still sad. Letting go of her store was harder than she’d expected.

  She pulled out her phone and opened her texts, then typed one out.

  Today is it. I close the doors for good at 6. I’m so sad I can barely breathe.

  She hit Send before she could second-guess herself.

  The irony wasn’t lost on her. She wasn’t sending texts to Theresa daily, but she was sending them regularly. Since that night on Theresa’s doorstep, she’d sent maybe eight or ten. They’d all gone unanswered and Kelsey chalked it up to Karma wanting her to know how it felt to be completely disregarded and ignored.

  It sucked. That’s how it felt. She got it. Loud and clear.

  She blew out a breath, tucked her phone into her back pocket, and walked to the end of the strip mall, then did an about-face and headed back. She was almost to her door when her phone beeped. She pulled it out and looked at the text.

  I’m sorry. That’s got to be hard. Hang in there.

  “It is,” Kelsey said out loud while staring at
the screen, unable to believe Theresa had texted back. A million replies whipped through her brain like race cars shooting past the bleachers at Daytona.

  I could use a hug.

  I miss you.

  I’m sorry I said it was your fault. I was so wrong.

  I miss you.

  Have dinner with me.

  I miss you.

  She thought about—and discarded—every one of those before typing simply, It is. Doing my best. She sent it, tucked the phone away, and went back inside, her ears hyper-tuned to the sound of a text beep. But another one didn’t come.

  At 5:31, she hugged Jeanine, thanked her for everything, and sent her home.

  At 6:01, she locked the front door, went back into the darkened store behind the counter, and leaned forward. Her arms on the counter, she rested her chin on them and just took it all in—the empty shelves, the signs, the few remaining bottles, the cheery, lime green walls, the linoleum floor—all of it. She stayed that way for long moments before the tears began. They came quietly, almost gently, rolling softly down her cheeks.

  October 10.

  The day she let go of a dream.

  ***

  By late October, things seemed to have settled into some semblance of normality and near-comfort, at least for some of the people in Kelsey’s life. For that, she was thankful. Chris was making huge strides in her new job and Kelsey had never seen her cousin so happy. She had a cute little apartment about ten minutes from Kelsey’s, and she and Hannah had been dating, slowly and steadily getting to know each other. Kelsey tried her best not to feel any envy or jealousy, but there were times when she wondered what she and Theresa would have been like if they’d given each other a chance, if Kelsey hadn’t been so pig-headed.

  She was still trying to let go of Theresa—but her efforts were half-hearted at best. She still texted her, and once in a while, she’d get a text back. But they were always short, fairly impersonal, and never led to an actual conversation. Kelsey still went to Starbucks here and there. She’d tell herself she needed caffeine, but in reality, she was hoping to run into the sexy blonde who caught her eye what seemed like forever ago. She’d recall how much fun it was to flirt with her, remember the feel of her hands on Kelsey’s body, her mouth on Kelsey’s mouth. And then her phone would ring or somebody would call her name, yanking her out of the pleasantness and back to reality.