Page 31 of Is This for Real?
“And then after Halloween, we can create a window display that says, ‘Work off those treats,’” I say. “And before Thanksgiving, ‘Make space for your turkey dinner.’”
“Those sound great,” Zelda says.
“So how are you going to balance it all? Do you think it will take a lot of time? I still find it suspicious.” Rory serves himself another piece of lasagna. He can really eat.
“It’s good for you to get out. It will give you more fodder for your stories,” Zelda says.
That is the benefit of getting out and about, unless there are really no customers in the store, in which case the only new material will be the sportswear. “I’ll get paid for it, so I’ll cut back on making miniatures at night and write then.”
“But you were just gaining momentum with your Etsy store, and you need to keep that going for a steady income,” he says.
He’s right. But I’m getting discouraged by the rejections, and maybe I can help the store and give back to Theresa. But I can’t share my doubts with Rory. He’ll be disappointed if he thinks I’m giving up. Not that I am—even if I did just send out my resume for a “more normal” job.
“I just have to be more efficient.”
Rory raises an eyebrow at me skeptically.
“And I owe Theresa a lot,” I say.
“You don’t owe Theresa anything.” Zelda shakes her head. “She took you guys in after your parents died because she loves you and she was best friends with your mom. Your mom would’ve done the same. Theresa is thrilled she has more family—female family. I mean, it’s not like Jamie is going to have kids anytime soon, and your sister already has two babies she’s ‘Grandma’ to.”
That’s true. Sometimes it even makes me feel worse when Olivia’s kids call Theresa “Grandma.” She’s not supposed to be their grandma.
“And I don’t understand why Theresa doesn’t understand that your miniatures business is like her sports store business, only your store is online,” Zelda says.
“That frustrates me, too,” I say.
“Maybe you need to show her your sales/expenses statements so she can see that you have your own business, too,” Zelda says.
“I’m not making a huge profit,” I say. “Although this month has been my best month yet because I sold so many magically pouring pitchers for dollhouse Halloween scenes.”
“Just show her this month, then,” Zelda says.
She asks if we want to try a new wine she just bought. Rory says that he will just have one glass because of work. Rory washes the dishes while Zelda pours us each a glass. We sit around the table and chat. Then Zelda finishes her wine and says, “See you later. Have fun.” And she winks at me, not even hiding it from Rory, who is sitting right next to me.
I smile as Zelda sashays out of the room.
“We need a password for when we should act more affectionate,” I say.
“Is there a guide to this?”
“All the fake dating trope romances. No, but seriously, when I was writing today, that’s what my characters did.”
“What was their password?”
“Darling. But we should think of something more creative. I was just doing a writing sprint, so I should fix it.”
Rory studies me. “Carissima,” he finally says, looking at me.
My heart melts. Then again, he could say a street name in Italian, and I’d swoon.
“Dearest in Italian,” he says. “What would you use in Dutch?”
I think of two, “liefje” or “schatje.” “Liefje” means my love. I don’t want to use it for fake dating. My dad used to call my mom “liefje.” “Schatje” means little treasure. I say, “schatje.”
“Those sound good to me. Do we need a word for when not to be affectionate?”
“In English or another language?” I pour us some more water from our Brita pitcher.
