Page 65 of Of Literature and Lattes
Confirmation bias.
The term drifted to Alyssa’s mind, and blaming her mom suddenly wasn’t so easy, so cut-and-dried. She had seen what she wanted to see, maybe needed to see, and when it didn’t suit her purpose she’d rejected it all and stormed away. Only to do the same thing again—only this time it landed her in the midst of a federal investigation.
Alyssa felt her stomach clench and brought herself back to the present. Standing at the bottom of the steps, staring at her favorite painting, she said, “You need an art show.”
“What?”
“Jeremy has all that wall space at Andante. He needs to reach out to the community more, and you need to show your work. It’s a win-win and I’m arranging it.”
“No. You can’t. I can’t.”
“Of course I can. You can too. We can plan it for the end of the summer. There’s plenty of time and you’ve got plenty of pieces. You already have those tiny portraits by his front window.”
“Because meddling Madeline gave them to him.” Her mom’s voice danced with laughter and something more, intrigue. “Do you really think we could?”
“Absolutely. Maybe that last weekend before Labor Day.”
“Because you’ll be gone after that.”
Alyssa started in confusion. “I... I was thinking because we could hold it on a Friday night when the shops stay open late, and that stops Labor Day weekend, but you’re right, that too.”
“You don’t have enough time. Let’s spend your weeks getting you better so your next chapter in life is outstanding.”
“Don’t do that.” Alyssa stepped back.
“What?”
“You always do that. You make my ideas sound like they’re wrong or not enough or that something, anything, is more important. That A is better than B, because you thought it up, and they both completely preclude C. What if A and B and C all together are exactly what’s right? What if helping you, doing this together, is what I need to get better?”
“You’ve lost me.”
“Because you’re not listening.” Alyssa heard her own whine, and it frustrated her further. She couldn’t explain what she had always felt. She took a breath to try again. “What if working for Jeremy and Lexi and Eve, and setting up an art show for you, finally connecting with you, is what I need in order to heal?”
“I just don’t want— Eve Parker called you?”
“That’s not the point.”
“I’m sorry. You hadn’t mentioned her.”
“Again, stop saying you’re sorry,” Alyssa huffed.
Her mom stood silent.
Alyssa felt all her energy drain from her. What started only minutes before as an exhilarating idea exhausted her. “Yes, Eve called, and I’ve already started going through her data. They’ve got a lot of waste in that store and I think I can help. More than that, I’m still standing.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just didn’t want you to spend your limited time on me.”
Alyssa shook her head and walked up the stairs. “But somehow even though it’s my time, it never feels like my choice.”
An hour later, dressed in her Jasper’s Garage uniform shirt, Alyssa hit the stairs again. She looked around as she crossed from the hall into the kitchen, but couldn’t find Janet. The house felt quiet and empty. She called a quick good-bye into the silence and headed out the door.
Within ten minutes Alyssa parked her bike behind Jasper’s Garage and headed toward the small store through the service bay entrance. She hauled a box from the storage room on her way past and opened it with a box cutter.
“Jasper, how do you determine what to order for the shop?”
Jasper materialized from around the corner. “I order what sells. Same stuff always sells in here.”
Alyssa shook her head and held up three bags of pork rinds. “No one eats these anymore, and this is the second box I’ve opened.”
