Page 43 of For the Record

I had seen some pretty awful things in life. Been practically drowned. I had seen death and gore pour out onto streets and had reacted like it was nothing. But holding this strong-willed, confident woman as she cried somehow felt gut wrenching.

Saying the only thing I knew wouldn’t change, I responded.

“I don’t know, honey. But I’ll be here until it does.”

Currently Playing: Vienna by Billy Joel

***

Arthur wasn’t an easy man to convince.

I did an entire slideshow, in very large, bold font so he would be able to clearly read everything. I shared examples of small, inexpensive updates that would change the entire aesthetic of the place and definitely bring in new people. I also showed him how much money Layla had brought in sales from her book signing here and testified that if we could host more events, we would bring in more revenue.

None of it mattered, apparently.

“The fact that you did all of this means so much to me, kid.” I could hear the word “no” behind Arthur’s resolve. He wasn’t going to keep it. I knew that in the deep, deep crevices of my brain, and yet I still pushed myself to keep going and not assume the worst.

His sigh, the shake of his head and the way he lifted his hand to his brows, pinching them together, told me everything I needed to know. My plan wasn’t enough to keep it together.

“And I think you could do a really great job with the place.” Arthur let out a deep sigh, patting his leg. “But at the end of the day, I can’t keep up with it. Someone young, motivated like yourself is what this place needs.”

I leaned forward in my chair toward him. “Exactly. I could do it justice. I would never disrespect what you and Cheryl worked so hard to build.”

“Never thought you would, kid. You know this place better than I do, but unless you can come up with the funds to buy it or can speak to the next owner and maybe show him everything you showed me, it’s not possible.”

Except I knew how this was going to go: new owner, whole new building. Renovations all over, with no originality left until this place eventually turned into some cheap coffee shop with a million careless investors backing it. Believe me, if I’d had even a quarter of what the place was worth, the first thing I would have done was make an offer. But the truth was, I was barely making it now. Scraping the barrel to pay assisted living fees, grocery bills for two households, insurance, and a thousand other things. If I could manage to lift one of those expenses off me, then maybe it wouldn’t be as heavy. But they were all essential, and I was not about to leave my apartment to live with my dad. I loved the guy, but your girl needed some space.

“I’ll wait to list till the end of the year, all right? Give you some time to process and maybe find another place to go as a backup in case this one doesn’t work out. I’ll do what I can.” Arthur stood and gave me a brief side hug before walking out the front door.

So, just like most areas of my life, I watched Sip ’n’ Spin crumble away in my mind.

Because that’s what it came down to, right? Nothing good in life was permanent. Everything beautiful had an ending.

Dad’s diagnosis.

Mom leaving us.

My sister following immediately without even a goodbye.

Layla getting married and moving out. It was great for her, and I wanted nothing but happiness for her, and yet it still left a huge hole in my heart.

Now the one place that truly felt like my home was going to be sold to a stranger.

I stood from my chair and reached for my laptop, shutting it down and letting the bright PowerPoint turn into a black mirrored screen. Grabbing my keys and my tote bag, I locked up the front door, turned out the lights, and headed for the back exit. One of these days would be my last here, and when that day came, I knew it was going to be very, very dark.

Was anything in life permanent? Was any one permanent?

My phone rang as the thought crossed my mind. Adam.

I sniffled, knowing if I didn’t hold myself together until I got home, I was going to cry in front of him, and it was going to be incredibly uncomfortable.

Climbing into my car, I forced myself to answer.

“Hey.” I used the best I’m totally fine voice I could muster and straightened my chest up, lifting my chin as if he could see.

“What happened?” he answered, his voice this low baritone that resonated in my chest and sent goose bumps down my spine. “Who upset you?” I could have sworn I heard him grabbing his keys in the background.

For some reason, maybe because I was already on edge from a breakdown, or maybe because Adam had this sense about me, that response made me instantly tear up. My once barely watery eyes turned into flowing waterfalls as I tried to blink away the hurt behind them. I sniffled again before tugging at the sleeve of my sweater and using it almost like a security blanket against my cheek.

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