Page 19 of Ripple Effect
Her words ring clearly through me. “Libby, there’s more to the woman you are inside than falling in love with a man. There’s a person deep in you that you haven’t found yet. Find her, and then you won’t be able to escape love—no matter how hard you try.”
Sniffling into a hankie she’d handed me, I whispered, “Why do you think that?”
“Because watching you pretend you’re okay is like watching myself all over again when I fell in love with your grandfather.” Nonna’s wrinkled hand cupped my cheek. “You already know who you are without him; now go find out who you are for yourself.”
So, I have. I’m just not sure I’m used to it yet.
Opening up my design studio a year ago in downtown Charleston was a huge step for me. The first person I brought through the storefront was Nonna. She was railing at me all the way into town because I wouldn’t take a dime from her. “Libby, I said find who you are, not to deny your heritage. Why on earth would you take a loan from a bank?”
“So I could say it’s mine, Nonna. From the ground up, every square inch of it is mine. It’s meant to be or it’s not. No one can make the customers come in.”
“Stubborn as a mule.”
“I inherited that from you, as well.” Pulling up to one of my reserved spots in the back, a miracle in downtown Charleston but something I negotiated when I bought the building, I gave her a blinding smile.
She blinked. “I take it back.”
“What?”
“My objections. Whatever’s beyond that door is worth whatever put your smile back on your face.”
Leaning over, I brushed her soft cheek with mine. “That’s you, Nonna. I’ll be right around to help you out.”
In my mind’s eye, I can still picture the way her tiny hands brushed across each item at Deja Vu. I squeeze Sydney tighter. “Aunt Libby, you’re squishing me,” she complains.
“I’m sorry, bug. I was just having a moment of…”
“Déjà vu?” We both laugh at the double entendre. “Something exactly like that. Now, go find your Daddy and tell him everything’s better.”
“Can I stay over with you tonight?”
“I think your momma’s going to need your sugars tonight, don’t you?” I ask diplomatically because while I’d love nothing more than to have my niece cuddle with me, I know there’s going to be a lot of sad memories tonight.
“You’re right. But soon?”
“Anytime you want, baby.” I kiss her head before lifting her off the counter. She scampers off the counter and runs full tilt out the back door. It slams behind her.
Alone at last. I brace my arms against the counter and let out the ragged sigh I’ve been holding in.
“Nonna, what would you have said knowing Cal laid sunflowers at the foot of your casket?”
“I don’t know. What do you think she would have said?” My head whips up at the sound of his deep voice.
“This is our family home, Cal.” My voice is polite. “Today, we’re not receiving visitors.”
“Cut the crap, Libby. I’m not just anyone. We’ve known each other for years.” He advances to where I’m standing at the counter.
I quickly busy myself cleaning up the wrappers. “Actually, for all I really know you, you are just anyone.” He opens his mouth to contradict me, but I shake my head. “What I know about you, Mr. Sullivan, I can enumerate on one hand.” I drop the wrappers and begin. “One, you work with my cousin. Two, you’re my best friend’s boss. Three, for a short while, we spent some time together at the same university. Four, you were gracious enough to come to the funeral of someone who meant a great deal to us. That means you’re…what? Considerate?” I wait a heartbeat before I lower my hand. “It must be something you’ve learned over the last few years.” I start to walk past him to head out the back door.
He grabs my arm just as I’m about to pass him. “You have every right to be pissed.”
Prying his fingers off of my arm, I nod. “I know I do. Didn’t Sam warn you? We’ve been held to a standard of zero tolerance for lies our entire life. We’ve seen the effect they have on people’s lives since family gambling and stealing almost bankrupted this family before our nonna and poppa saved our legacy with the timber mill. Then there were the lies from Poppa’s sister, our great-aunt, who walked away from her family, leaving them without a mother. And Sam? He should know how I hate liars; after all, I lost a fiancé to being cheated on. Then again, maybe men don’t talk about those kinds of things. But I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not.”
“Which is?” Cal asks.
“Me,” I answer simply. “I’m Elizabeth Akin. I’m a smart, successful business owner. I’m a woman. And I’ll be damned if I’ll let any man make me a promise, then lie about keeping it.” Calmly, I walk to the back door before I turn around. “Thank you for taking the time to come today for Sam, Cal. And I’m sure my grandmother would have appreciated the flowers.”
“Is that what she really would have thought?” His voice is rough-edged. His dark eyes are boring into mine as if he can see through me.
