Page 37 of Just Like Starting Over
“Why?” I ask.
“That means it will happen,” she says with a conviction that pleases me.
Sylvia is frowning. “You don’t have to do this, Mike.”
“No, but it’s a business I understand. You don’t need anyone cutting corners where it won’t payoff in the long run.”
“I don’t think Luke would cut corners,” Sylvia replies. “He was great with the leasehold improvements.”
“I do have a few connections.” I give her a look. “But it’s up to you.”
“Mom.” Sierra sounds annoyed. I’m not sure why she’s in my corner on this, but I’ll take her support. “I think it would be great if Mike helped with the greenhouse.”
“It would be, but he has a lot of other responsibilities. You can’t be taking all his time.”
“It’ll be fine,” I say, even as I wonder how I’ll juggle one more thing. “And I know some people who will be able to help out.” Come to think of it, there’s one sales rep who has been wanting to install a small greenhouse for me at the house. I guess a lot of customers go for that, but I don’t want to add anything to a property that’s never going to be my home.
That greenhouse now has a potential site, on the roof of the bistro. I nod with satisfaction.
“See? He has aplan,” Sierra says and Sylvia laughs a little.
“You can guess how impossible it is to say no to her,” she says to me and I smile.
“Well, she is right.” We exchange a glance over Sierra’s head and Sylvia’s smile lights a flame deep inside me. She’s not angry with me anymore, so I guess that was the perfect gift.
“Mom is using the old storeroom for her studio,” Sierra informs me, as if she read my thoughts.
“I didn’t know there was one.”
“Upstairs, facing over the back alley.”
“Northern light,” Sylvia provides. “It’s wonderful. I’m so lucky that Merrie offered it to me.”
“She won’t tell me what she’s going to paint.”
“Maybe I don’t know yet.”
“They say artists need to be inspired,” I tell Sierra. “What does your mom usually paint?”
“She doesn’t,” Sierra says, to my astonishment. “Well, she puts drawings in my lunch sometimes.”
“They’re just doodles,” Sylvia protests.
I look at her in shock. She stopped drawing? Sylvia holds my gaze steadily, so it’s true. I realize that Sierra is watching me. “Maybe your mom just needs a chance to think about it, then. Some time and space.”
Sylvia parts her lips as if she’s going to say something, but doesn’t have a chance.
“Space is something we don’t have,” Sierra retorts and Sylvia turns to look out the window. “Una’s house is cute and all, but it’s too small for three people. There’s only one bathroom.” She tells me this with an outrage that is undisguised and I find myself smiling. “Why is that funny?”
“Because we had two when I was growing up, and my sister, when she was about your age, thought it was intolerable. My dad and his wife had their suite but there was only one other bathroom for the rest of us.”
“Your dad and his wife? Isn’t that your mom?”
“No, my mom died just after my sister Abbie was born. My dad married Candace then. She already had a son, then they had another son and a daughter pretty quickly afterward.”
Sierra pivots to stare at me in horror. “How many of you were using the same bathroom?”
I count quickly. “Seven.”
