“No. Vivian Blackwood is no more. The designs I’m doing are just for me. For my own outlet. Do you get it?”
“Okay, okay, but your daughter and I love a good merchandise idea.”
“Shh, just roll up the sidewalk, okay?”
“Okay, I’ll call you back once I do some research on the giveaway idea.”
“Okay, and Bret?”
“Yeah, love?”
“Thank you, thank you for all of it. I know darn well I’d be in that dark apartment with my sketchbook and a box of macaroni and cheese if it wasn’t for you. You made this dream come true.”
“We’re a team and thank you. And stop being so maudlin. I can’t take it.”
“Okay, got it.”
They ended the call. With Bret handling the shutdown, Viv had that off her mind.
Viv called Tag. “How about you give me a ride downtown? If you’re not doing anything.”
“Just arguing with my insurance company. I can do that later. I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
“Thanks.”
Viv and Tag were in a similar spot in life, caught between the end of one career and the future. Neither of them was sure what the next stretch of life was going to be like. If someone told her a year ago that she’d be back in Irish Hills, hanging out with the Sandbar Sisters and quasi-dating a race car driver, she would not have believed it.
But she’d been able to be more herself here than she’d been in the last year, especially with Tag. Maybe that’s what she liked about him. He accepted her sometimes less-than-sunny disposition and didn’t ask that she fake it. She didn’t need to be brave with him, just herself.
He could laugh when she made a dark joke. He’d been to some dark places of his own after his accident.
She heard his arrival before she saw it. The convertible roared into the front of the hotel.
Viv loved the gaudy thing. The air, the noise, the half-crazy way Tag drove, all of it woke her up from the haze of being seen as a patient, not a person.
He hadn’t talked about his visit to the doctor. Or too much about his diagnosis, and that was okay. She knew what it was like to make health the center of every conversation. Some days it felt like her cancer had become the most important thing. What did she think about if not that?
She walked out of the car and got in. It was a familiar spot for her now.
“So, you’d kept your hands off of the store, but here we are going downtown. What’s changed?”
“I can be supportive and not the boss, and it’s hers now, really hers. This isn’t a boutique of my designs. It’s her vision.”
“Makes sense.”
Viv leaned back in her seat. Summer was here. It was the part of summer she loved, June. The entire season was ahead. They had the fun and celebration of July to look forward to and the heat of August to revel in, but right now, it was the beginning. She liked this, being at the beginning. Viv had been thinking and talking about endings so much lately.
The end of her treatment, the end of her business, and maybe the end of—no, not going there. She was going to work hard to be in the moment. And this moment was about beginnings.
“Wow, this town has never looked this good!”
They pulled into Irish Hills, and though it was a weekday, the busy weekend still to come, there were flowers blooming in vases, people strolling in and out of the few businesses, and Dean Tucker was across the street, supervising the next phase of Libby’s grand plans. This was a symphony of beginnings. No wonder Siena had been convinced to be a part of Irish Hills. Viv felt the energy and wanted to be a part of it too.
“Looks like the sign is being repainted.”
Tag parked a few spaces away from the store. A crew was covering her name with paint.
“Is that a bad omen?” she asked as Vivian was obscured and they worked on Blackwood.
