Georgina never met her paternal grandparents who’d passed away within months of each other the year she’d celebrated her second birthday. They weren’t the only couple in the Falls who’d attempted to conceal their volatile union. Sasha had confided to her about her parents’ never-ending verbal encounters, which was why she never had sleepovers and it was the reason her brothers enlisted in the military within days of graduating high school.
And it was apparent Georgina had misjudged her father. “I’m sorry, Dad,” she said in apology.
“There’s no need to apologize, baby girl. I...” His words trailed off as a flush darkened his tanned face. “I need to stop calling you that. After all, you are over thirty.”
She rested her hand atop his larger one. “You can call me that, but only in private.” A beat passed. “Does Mom know?”
Bruce’s red eyebrows flickered slightly. “Yes. I told her when we were in Hawaii. She started to go off on a tirade, but I stopped her, saying a few things I’m now ashamed to repeat. I must have gotten through to her when she finally calmed down enough for me to convince her she’d mourned Kevin long enough and it was time for her to help me run this place as she’d promised before we married.”
“So that’s why Mom came back so different.”
“That wasn’t the only reason. Getting her away from Wickham Falls was akin to shock therapy. She was trying hard to once again become the woman with whom I’d fallen in love and married. Every night was date night with intimate dinners, long walks and even longer talks. I told her she had to let you go before losing you completely. It hasn't been easy for her but she’s finally seeing things my way, which, now that I look back, benefited all of us.”
Georgina felt as if she had shed a lead suit with her father’s disclosure. Now she didn’t have to conduct her life like a covert agent, operating clandestinely to establish her business. Her parents knew and it was just a matter of time before all of Wickham Falls would know.
“Thank you, Dad, for your support.”
“There’s no need to thank me, Georgina. You’re my daughter, my flesh and blood, and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to help you succeed. Would you mind if I invest in your new business?”
She knew her father was offering to give her money. “Yes, I would mind, because I don’t need investors. Not even my father,” she said, smiling.
“Promise me you’ll let me know if you have a cash-flow problem.”
“I will.”
Georgina didn’t tell him that she doubted whether she would have a cash-flow problem because she’d deposited enough money in her business’s operating account to cover the rent and utilities for the next two years. She didn’t plan to hire an employee and had projected she had enough inventory on hand to sustain her for at least six months, even with brisk sales. She had purchased furniture and equipment and as soon as they were delivered and set up, Georgina would alert town officials as to the date and time of her grand opening. The approved certificate of occupancy allowed her time to become operational, but now that it had become a reality, Georgina felt less anxious than she had before. It was now early June and she projected opening within a month.
“Did Sutton tell you when to expect him?”
Bruce nodded. “Sometime next weekend. Meanwhile, your mother has volunteered to work Saturdays and Sundays.”
“It’s good for her to get out of the house if only for a few days a week.”
“That’s what I told her. By the way, how much more do you have to do before you open?”
“Not too much, Dad. I emailed the vendors to confirm the date and time when I want them to deliver what I need to furnish the shop. And I’m still working on computerizing my inventory, and project completing that sometime this week.”
Bruce narrowed his eyes, appearing deep in thought. “Today will be your last day working at Powell’s.”
Georgina’s jaw dropped. “You’re firing me?”
“Yes, Georgina, I am firing you, because I don’t want you stressed out working here and then trying to finish what you need to open your shop. I’m going to give you a generous severance package and continue to pay your health insurance, so that’s something you don’t have to concern yourself with.”
She didn’t want to believe her father was letting her go, but she understood that he wanted her to succeed in her new venture. “Thank you, Dad.”
“I should be the one thanking you,” Bruce countered. “You’ve gone above and beyond being the good daughter when you stepped up and helped me out, and for that I’ll be eternally grateful.”
“Gratitude has nothing to do with it because we’re family.”
Bruce smiled. “You know that’s what Sutton said when I thanked him for coming on board.”
Georgina smiled. “I’m certain he’s going to enjoy being away from the glare of cameras and reporters delving into his personal life.”
“I admit he’s handled being a celebrity well because he never let money or the spotlight change him like some young kids who can’t handle the fame and act like a complete fool.”
She wanted to tell Bruce that Sutton had confided to her that he’d seen firsthand how some of his college buddies who were signed to professional sports teams self-destructed when they either dabbled in banned substances or were embroiled in baby-mama drama, and he’d wanted none of it. Sutton had at one time stopped talking to his mother when he’d shown up unexpectedly to find his father staying with her. It was only when Michelle Reed finally cut off all communication with her son’s father that Michelle and Sutton had renewed their close relationship.
“Dad, you have to know you’re going to get more than normal foot traffic once the word gets out that Sutton Reed will be working at Powell’s.”
Bruce flashed a wide grin. “That’s something I’m not going to complain about. And he’s coming back at the right time. You know I usually close for the Fourth Of July celebration festival, but I’m thinking about opening one of the three days to bring folks into the store to meet Sutton.”
“That’s something you should give some serious thought, Dad, because you know Sutton really doesn’t like being put on the spot.”
Bruce paused. “He should’ve gotten used to that while playing ball. He was a baseball phenom and a role model for kids, and now that he’s retired, he will have to contend with folks asking for autographs and if they can be photographed with him.”
“Celebrity or not, he is entitled to a modicum of privacy,” Georgina said in defense of her cousin. “Even though I won’t be working for you, do you still want me to design the ads for the store?” she asked, changing the topic of conversation. “I promise not to charge you.”
“Of course you can still design the ads, but we will have to talk about you charging me. Remember, Georgina, you’re now going to be a businesswoman in your own right, and folks pay for goods and services. Although we’re family you still have to be paid for what you do.”
She knew her father was right. She’d come on as a full-time employee at eighteen, and in the ensuing years earned raises and bonuses commensurate with her responsibilities. Living at home was a perk because she didn’t have to pay rent or buy food and was able to save an appreciable portion of her salary. The year she celebrated her twenty-fifth birthday she’d contacted a financial manager to set up a retirement account for herself, given she’d planned to work for another forty years. Little did she know at the time that she would be working for herself and that meant she would have to modify her plans.
Bruce pushed to his feet. “It’s almost time to open up, so I want to give you something to think about.”
Georgina stared up at him. “What is it, Dad?”
“Take time to enjoy life, because tomorrow isn’t promised to any of us.”
She froze. What was her father not telling her? “Is there something wrong with you?�
��
He nodded. “Yes. I’m a workaholic, and that’s something I inherited from a long line of Powells. And because this store has earned the reputation of being the oldest family-owned business in Wickham Falls, I didn’t want to lose that distinction. My fourth great-granddaddy started out selling feed to farmers before graduating to a general store and now into a department store able to compete with the big-box chains because we never cheated local folks. Even the Wolfes couldn’t put us out of business when they set up a company store because we were willing to extend credit to the miners until they got paid. A few times when they’d sent their goons here to try and intimidate us, they were sent packing after we’d armed every employee with a shotgun ready to blast them to smithereens. Don’t be a workaholic, baby girl. Close for vacation and holidays. And there’s no need for you to work every day if you plan to have a family. I’m saying all of this because one of these days I would like to become a grandpapa.”
Georgina stood up and hugged him. “I don’t know about making you a grandfather in the very near future, but I do plan to open five days a week and close for the major holidays.”
Bruce kissed her cheek. “That’s my girl.”
She sat down again once her father left the office to open the store. A smile stole its way over her features before becoming a wide grin. Georgina did not want to believe her parents knew about her future business venture but hadn’t said a word to her.
It was obvious she wasn’t the only one who had been hiding a secret. Leaning back in the chair, she kicked her legs in the air as if riding a bicycle. She’d planned to open A Stitch at a Time with or without her parents’ approval, but knowing they wanted her to succeed filled her with an indescribable joy.
Chapter Eleven
Langston found his thoughts drifting from the agenda during the regularly scheduled Monday editorial meeting. When he’d first assumed ownership of the paper, he’d decided to switch the weekly meetings from Wednesdays to Mondays. He’d discovered the week the paper was to go to the printer, some of the reporters wanted to make last-minute changes or corrections, which had become a pet peeve for Langston.
He’d slept fitfully and once awake he found himself unable to go back to sleep. It had been the first time in more than a year since he’d had a nightmare that was a flashback of an incident he’d witnessed in Angola hours before he’d been airlifted out of the country. His therapist had warned him he would occasionally experience them because it was impossible for him to erase his memory like striking the backspace or delete key on a keyboard.
Langston forced his attention back to the reporter who was responsible for covering reporting on all school events, and that included sports. “Are you saying that the president of the teachers’ union is talking about going on strike at the beginning of the next school year?”
Mitchell Garner blinked slowly behind a pair of black horn-rims. “Not really. She spoke to me off the record.”
Langston’s eyebrows lifted questioningly. “Off the record?” he asked. “Are you saying she wants you to mention it in the column?”
Mitchell shook his head. “No. She claims she’s just giving me a heads-up of what’s to come.”
“If that’s the case, then we won’t print it,” Langston said. He nodded to Randall. “You’re next.”
“I’m glad to report that advertising revenue is up again. I met with the developer over the weekend who’s building on the Remington property, and he says he wants us to run a series of full-and half-page ads beginning with the August issue advertising the newly constructed homes.” A smattering of applause followed his announcement.
“Good work,” Langston said, smiling and complimenting the advertising salesman. “I...” His words trailed off when his cell phone vibrated; he glanced at the screen. His sister was calling him. He found it odd that Jacklyn would call him during the day when they usually spoke to each other in the evening. Standing, he picked up the phone. “Please hold on.” He glanced at those sitting at the table in the conference room staring back at him. “Excuse me, but I have to take this call. What’s wrong, Jackie?” he asked as he walked into his office and shut the door behind him.
“There’s nothing wrong, Lang.”
“If there’s nothing wrong, then why are you calling me in the middle of the day?”
“I didn’t think I needed permission to call my brother before the sun went down.”
He smiled for the first time since answering the phone. “You don’t. But you’re so regimented that I thought something had happened.”
“It’s called being disciplined, Lang. And if I wasn’t then I would never get anything done with two young children and a husband who has a go-bag sitting at the door because he never knows when he’s going to be called to leave at a moment’s notice. Now, back to why I called you, and I promise not to take up too much of your time. Remember the sketches you sent me?”
“Of course.”
“Well, after looking them over I decided to write another book based on the drawings of kids. I submitted it to my agent, who in turn sent it to my editor. I’m telling you all of this to let you know they want to publish the book with the illustrations. But first you have to let me know who the illustrator is so the publisher can contact him or her to offer them a contract.”
Langston sat down heavily in his chair. He knew Jacklyn’s contract with her publisher had given her the option of choosing the illustrator for her bestselling series of children’s books based on diversity; however, when he’d downloaded photos of Georgina’s sketches of children, he had deliberately not revealed the identity of the artist.
“Are you sitting down, Jackie?”
“Yes. Why?”
“She’s someone you are familiar with.”
“Langston Wayne Cooper, I don’t have time to play guessing games with you. Just tell me her name!”
“Damn, sis. Why did you have to go and blurt out my whole government name?”
“I did it to get your attention.”
“Well, you did. The artist is Georgina Powell.” There was complete silence for nearly thirty seconds. “Jackie, are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here. I... I’m just trying to process that someone I’d graduated with is going to be the illustrator for one of my books.”
Langston wanted to warn his sister not to get ahead of herself, because Georgina was totally unaware that he’d sent her sketches to Jackie. “You’re going to have to wait to celebrate because Georgi doesn’t know I sent you her drawings.”
“What! Have you gone and lost your mind, Langston? When you sent me the sketches the only thing you said was that they belonged to a friend and that you wanted me to look at them for some of my books. And now you tell me that Georgi has no idea her illustrations will appear in a book? I don’t know what’s going on between you and the Powell girl, but whatever it is I want and need you to convince her that I want those illustrations and that I’m going to tell my agent to get as much money for her that the publisher is willing to part with.”
Langston knew his sister was angry, and he didn’t blame her; he’d always been able to deal with Jacklyn’s quick temper. He didn’t know Georgina well enough to gauge her reaction to the news that she was about to become a professional illustrator. “I had no idea you were going to send them to your agent and editor. And that means I’m going to have to talk to her.”
“Do more than talk, brother, because I want those illustrations. Better yet, why don’t you convince her to come to DC so we can talk? Georgi and I weren’t close like her and Sasha Manning, but we did speak to each other. After you talk to her I’d like you to give her my number. If she’s going to turn me down, then I want to hear it directly from her.”
Langston glanced at the clock on his desk. It was time he got back to his meeting. “I’ll be in touch, Jackie.”
“You do that, brother
love.”
“Yeah, right. Now it’s brother love.” He ended the call not giving her chance to come back at him. He loved his sister unconditionally, but there were times when she irked him because either it had to be her way or no way, and he didn’t envy his brother-in-law who appeared unfazed by his wife’s mercurial moods, claiming most artists were temperamental. Not only was Jacklyn an incredibly talented teacher and writer, but she was a whiz when it came to financial investments. So much so, that Langston had trusted her to handle his finances. She’d set up an account for his retirement and another that he could access without incurring a penalty for early withdrawals. It was this account he’d used for midyear and Christmas bonuses for the newspaper’s staff.
“Sorry about that,” he said in apology when he walked back into the conference room.
The meeting continued when the reporter who covered all social and civic events gave her report. Once everyone with a byline finished, the session adjourned minutes before a delivery person from Ruthie’s arrived with lunch. Langston had begun the practice of ordering lunch for everyone after the editorial meeting and it was the least he could do for a staff who had been willing to take pay cuts while he worked tirelessly to ensure the paper’s viability. After the first six months he was able to restore some of the salaries, and he projected with the increasing revenue he hoped to offer more raises and larger bonuses.
The most important thing on his mind now wasn’t the newspaper, but how to tell Georgina that she could possibly become a professional illustrator with the publication of his sister’s next children’s book.
* * *
The ringing of the phone on the bedside table penetrated Georgina’s much-needed sleep. She’d spent every waking hour preparing for the grand opening. She’d completed scanning and cataloging every piece of merchandise, including thimbles and sewing needles.
Starting Over In Wickham Falls (Wickham Falls Weddings Book 9) Page 15