Page 35 of Lead Me Knot

Not sure how she’ll take this, so I ease her into the idea while fidgeting with the birthday-candle display on top of the cake counter. “Two of them are looking for regular work. I’ve been thinking about bringing them on a few afternoons a week and for some weekend shifts.”

My mom stills her hands on the register that she had started wiping down and looks at me. “It’s a big job to run this place.”

“Even bigger these days.” I roll a stool over and sit, keeping one foot planted on the floor and the other on the foot bar. “I’ve turned away three orders in the past few days because I simply do not have the time to add more to my schedule. Lunches, especially, have become more popular. We have twosmall bistro tables, but we have more regulars from Dover County driving in for lunch lately. I’m out of food by noon and most don’t have a place to sit and eat what food they do get.”

“The whole area is growing.” There’s concern in her voice as she looks over the shop as if she’ll know what to do after a once-over. “They built a new subdivision up Highway 160. Fifty-two acres with thirty plots.” Leaning her hip against the counter after facing me again, she adds, “I like that you’re thinking big picture. I was starting to worry you didn’t want to continue running Peaches.”

I’m not sure what would give her that impression when I spend every day here—baking, cleaning, prepping for each day and the next. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. You built this place. I grew up here. It’s a part of us, but I’ve grown the shop and café as much as I can on my own. We either need to cut back on what we offer, change around what we do and can offer, or expand into the empty shop next door.”

My mom’s hair is always impeccably in place. Today is no different, so this is the first time I see her fussing with a curl hanging on her shoulder and rebelling against the flow of the others. I can see her thoughts cloud her eyes before she turns away.

I hate the empty space and the silence between us, but I need to hear what she thinks. As much as I consider this place mine, it’s not really when it comes to legality and paperwork.

Her smile is soft, as if bad news is following when she looks at me. “I can’t take on more loans for an expansion, and I don’t have it in me to make the kind of decisions necessary to run the shop like it needs anymore.”

My heart sinks.What is she saying?I knew my ideas were long shots, but I didn’t expect her not to want any change atall, or worse, to sell it altogether, which is what it’s sounding like right now.

She says, “Peaches also have pits.”

It’s a saying she’s always said. The sweet always comes with sour. Hard with soft. The universe has a way of balancing things out. That’s been true since my dad left us. I just don’t want the pits on the other side of progress to be standing in my way any longer. “I know but?—”

“But . . .” She cuts me off with her hand held up between us. “You can and do.”

“What does that mean?”

With her eyes set on mine and a gentle slope of a smile on her face, she replies, “It means you’re ready to take on those things. The shop has been yours for years, honey. I think we should make it official. Once it’s in your name, then it’s not up to me. It would be yours to do what you want with it.”

So much crosses my mind that I don’t know what thought to settle on first. I think she can tell because she comes to me, taking my hands though they still have residual flour on them, and holds each in hers. She’s not deterred, and says, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, Lauralee. It’s not a snap decision for me. I gave you control years ago, but you didn’t own it. Now it’s time to change that.”

“Are you sure?”

Squeezing my hands, she replies. “Very.” When she backs toward the register to pick up dusting it where she left off, she adds, “But I hope you still let me work here and there.”

“Of course. Anytime you want.”

“And since you mentioned it, I think you should expand,hire more employees, take a few days off each week, and take this place to the next level.”

I rush her, throwing my arms around her. “Thank you, Mom. I’ll make you so proud.”

When she turns in my arms, she hugs me tight. “You already have.”

Stepping back, I’m unsure what to do with myself. Celebrate or start planning? But then I stop, and ask, “What are you going to do?”

“The house and car were paid off years ago, so I’ll take some time and figure out my next adventure. Travel?” Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she laughs. “Or maybe I’ll become a small-town influencer on social media. I’m seeing a hole in the market.”

“I didn’t even know you were on social media outside of the ‘Book app.’”

“It’s addicting.” She walks by me, patting me on the arm. “I’m going to grab a sandwich for dinner tonight. I have a feeling you’re going to be too busy to come home with the planning you have ahead of you.”

I grin, almost unbearably so. Hope soars in ways I haven’t felt in years, making the possibilities seem limitless. Yes, the bubble will burst in some ways, but I’ve been preparing for that my whole life. I’m ready to hold on to this feeling for as long as I can.

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Wait, huh?Why would I share this with him?

Oh.

My.

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