Page 30 of Back On Ice

The flower shop is busier since the nine-to-fivers can come in, and it’s the day my rec team practices. This week it’s especially exciting since I’m supposed to help with a delivery for a large birthday party, and I love helping arrange where all the flowers go. Nothing sounds better right now than losing myself in the comfortably predictable hustle and bustle of the shop and getting Carter out of my head for the day.

My keys are in my hand and I have one foot out the door, ready to bury myself in work.

Until my phone rings.

Mom never calls me before work, especially not on a Saturday. Not since she started listening to her body and sleeping until nine every morning. It’s currently eight, a full hour before she would normally be up.

“Mom?” My voice is slightly panicked as I answer. Has something happened?

“Sophie! Hi, honey, have you left the house yet?”

“No?” My tone rings in confusion when she sounds perfectly happy and not worried about anything. This is so bizarre. “Is everything okay? I?—”

“I’m glad I caught you before you left. Listen, sweetie,” Mom cuts me off, the “no-nonsense” tone of her words confusing me further. It’s not a tone I’ve heard often in my life, even as a teenager. “I’m putting my foot down. When was the last time you had a day off?”

“Um…” I don’t think I like where she’s going with this.

“And I mean no flower shop, no Twin Rinks, and no working from home on financials.”

I’ve had a full day off recently… right? Though as much as I wrack my brain, I can’t think of the last time I hadnowork.

But Ilikework.

“I’m sure there’s been… I mean, that one time?—

At my nonanswer, Mom clicks her tongue. “That’s what I thought. So I’ve taken care of things for you this weekend.”

My thoughts come to a screeching halt. She didwhat?

“Mom,” I say slowly, keeping my voice calm as I step back into my house and shut the front door, “what do you mean you’ve ‘taken care of things’?”

“You have the weekend off!” She sounds so excited, like she’s just given me the best gift ever.

“I—what? No, Mom, I have to get to the shop. I’m supposed to be at the rink this afternoon?—”

“I’ve handled it,” Mom says with finality. “Kerry is manning the shop, I’m going to direct delivery and set-up of the arrangements for that birthday party, Tom is taking Jordan camping, and I already spoke to Benson and he’s going to have Brandon cover this weekend.”

She did… everything? Does she not understand that Iwantto work?

“Mom, is this really all necessary?”

“Yes,” she says, her no-nonsense tone back in place. “You didn’t even take off last month on your birthday weekend because you were taking care of Jordan while Tom was out of town at an education conference.”

“Taking care of Jordan isn’t work to me,” I defend myself weakly.

“I know, sweetie.” Mom tells me softly, “but you need time for yourself. And as much as you love Jordan, you can’t get that time if you’re taking care of someone else. Which you’realwaysdoing.”

I… I guess she’s right. Which I hate.

“Alright.” Sighing, I drop my keys on the table next to the door. “I get it. You win.”

“I know I do.” Mom preens. “Now, I mean it. You are to have a completely work-free weekend. You’re not even going to open your laptop to work on finances of any kind.”

I try to protest, but my mom is relentless. She has to bully it out of me, but eventually I agree, and she hangs up the phone, leaving me to my work-free weekend.

Just great.

What the hell am I even supposed to do?

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