“Keep it in mind then.”
Conversation over.Will do, Dad.
3
Had anyone walked into the offices of Triskelion Territory Designs at that moment... they would have turned right back around and gotten the hell out of what looked like theTwilight Zone. Witnessing three women frozen, staring blankly at computer screens, no eye twitching, no tapping pens, no music, no nervous throat clearing. Just three mannequins awaiting their turn to be beamed up to the mother ship.
Rowan was the first to break the silence— one hour and twelve minutes to be exact— AER (After Email Reply).
“Guys, we have work that needs doing. The waiting sucks, but surely it would help if we did SOMETHING while we wait.”
“You’re right, sis, let’s move on with our...” River began but was interrupted by several loud notification pings exploding from their laptops, phones, and watches— it was a battlefield of pings.
“Oh Jesus, Oh Jesus, Oh Jesus...” The extent of Raven’s articulation.
“Jaysus, Mary ’n Joseph as Nan likes to say,” River said absently.
Raven noticed that all three of their hands were hovering over their mice. No one had clicked to open. “If he’s changed his mind or found another firm, we’ll get over it. I’ll reply that we appreciate his time and that if things change to keep us in mind for this or any other project.”
Raven cringed at expressing rejection aloud before it had even happened. She had to get her shit together.
“Okay, sisters, forget my negative bullshit.” River and Rowan looked up with wide hazel eyes, probably the same look she was giving them, a combination of terror and hope.
“Rowan,” Raven said decisively, “open the email and River and I will sit by you, and you’ll read it to us.”
Chairs moved side by side by side, deep breaths in— and out— click.
Thank you for getting back to us so promptly. We have a tight deadline for when we want the pub up and running. Time will not be your friend. We will stop by your office tomorrow around mid-morning if that’s acceptable. We don’t expect to take up too much of your day.
Bran O’Faolain
Silence. Crickets. The calm before the storm.
And then— all hell broke loose.
The girls knocked over their chairs, they jumped up so fast. Then knocked into one another as their happy dances took up a considerable amount of space. As did chest bumping, high fives, jazz hands, and a millisecond of Ring Around the Rosie before collapsing in a boneless, wheezing pile of hair and limbs onto the soft, wool area rug.
Grinning at one another from their prone positions, Raven suggested. “Okay, how ’bout we make some smoothies, turnthe music back on, get our work done for the day, go out to a celebratory dinner where we feast, imbibe, and come up with some excellent talking points for our new VIP possible clients.” Raven took another breath and finished with, “Tomorrow morning, we’ll get up, work out, beautify, and get our professional faces on.”
“Hell to the yes, Rave!” River said while bopping her sister’s nose.
“You know I love a good plan,” Rowan agreed in her quieter way. “We’ll have to get off the floor first, though.”
“Oh,” Raven reminded them, “I’ll need to phone Mrs. Barclay and see if I can swing by her boutique Monday instead of tomorrow morning. I just hate to reschedule more than once if the O’Faolains are late, forcing us to change other appointments.”
“Good thinking,” River agreed. “I have a few calls that I can do today instead of tomorrow if the clients are available.”
“I’ll do that too,” Rowan said. “Might as well free up the whole day... in case.”
And just like that, serious determination painted each of their faces. They had been working their asses off for the past few years for just such a moment. Raven was going to fight for this job. They all would, she knew. Work now, then prepare. As if their minds were linked, three sets of hazel eyes looked toward the large portrait of their parents. Daniel and Lily Byrne. Never forgotten. Loved always.
Raven recalled when they’d finished their sophomore year in college. They could hardly wait to complete the next two and startliving. Finals done, the girls had loaded their bags in the car, got on the road, and headed the short drive home to Bristow for the summer.
An online General Physics class the only hindrance to weeks of rewatching every episode, including the holiday specials, ofGreat British Baking, Gordon Ramsay anything— ironic since Raven hated to cook— and, most importantly, doing some preliminary outlining for establishing their own interior design company— a business plan, registration, licensing, insurance, marketing, financial projections, and location.
Their Mom and Dad had planned on being home the following day from Atoka. They’d been asked to speak and give a presentation at the Atoka Museum on Irish railroaders settling down in the area, the spread of Catholicism because of it, and the commingling between the Irish and Native Americans. InSpongeBobspeak— their best day ever.
They’d called Raven the day before, and she’d put them on speaker so all the girls could hear. They wanted them to know that because of all the tornadoes around and torrential rain, a banner year apparently, their return may be delayed. The sisters’ drive from Norman to Bristow had been continuous rain but not horrible, so Raven never gave it another thought. Oklahoma is known for its extreme weather.
