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When I made it to the store, I ran in the back door, apologies slipping from my mouth.
“Slow down,” Marcy grabbed my arm, halting my steps. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“Sorry,” I apologized yet again. “I’m late.”
“Oh honey, it’s not a big deal. You look like you’re about to have a heart attack. Sit down.” She pulled a chair out and all but pushed me into it. “I’m actually surprised to see you up and walking today,” she smirked, removing her purple reading glasses, and shoving them into her blond hair. She still had the ends died in a rainbow hue of colors.
“What do you mean?”
She laughed and looked down at my finger significantly. “Who do you think made that? He told me how he planned to propose, so I figured after that romantic gesture getting out of bed would be the last thing on your mind,” she winked. “I mean, if I was engaged to that sexy man of yours I’d never let him leave the bed…or put clothes on. A body like that should not be covered up.”
I blushed profusely. Marcy may have been in her fifties and happily married, but she had no problem going on and on about how good-looking Trace was and what she’d like to do with him. If she was my age I’d probably be jealous.
“Mom!” Alba, Marcy’s daughter, called. “Stop embarrassing, Olivia!”
“What? I’m only speaking the truth! Even his armpit hair is hot!”
I snorted. She did not just say that.
“Ew! Mom! That’s gross!” Alba wrinkled her nose as she pushed the beaded curtain aside that hung on the frame of the door that separated the front and back of the store.
“Eh, you’ll get over it,” Marcy dismissed her daughter with a wave of her hand. “Now,” she turned back to me, “what did you think yesterday when he proposed?”
“I was kind of in shock,” I admitted with a small shrug. “I couldn’t believe it was actually happening.”
“Oh, I wish I could’ve seen your face,” Marcy looked away, a wistful look in her eyes. “Especially since my so-called daughter is apparently never going to get married and gift me with grandchildren.”
Over Marcy’s shoulder, my eyes met with Alba’s. She shook her head, and mouthed ‘crazy.’
“Well,” Marcy patted my shoulder, “I need to go work on some designs.”
“Of course,” I stood, heading towards the front of the store.
Alba stopped me, pulling me into a hug. “Congratulations,” she said. “Trace is a great guy. You’re really lucky.”
“Thanks,” I smiled.
“I’ll see you later,” she waved, heading for the back door.
I had a relatively busy day. Marcy’s store did a good amount of business, so I never had much down time, which I liked. People came from all over the tri-state area to buy her unique pieces. She made every piece of jewelry herself, often doing custom orders. I had never been much of a jewelry person…Aaron had forbidden my mom and I from wearing any, so even if I had wanted to I couldn’t. But I loved my gold star necklace that Trace had gotten me for our first Christmas, and I’d later found out that Marcy made it. It pleased me to know that she’d made my engagement ring as well. In the past two years, Marcy had become an extension of my family. I loved that crazy lady.
I locked the door to the store and flipped the old fashioned sign from Open to Closed. I closed the blinds on the door and windows, and then turned the lights out.
I pushed the beaded curtain aside and stepped into the back room. Marcy was working feverishly on her latest project.
“Marcy,” I approached hesitantly, not wanting to disturb her. She looked up at me, raising a brow in question. “You should really go home,” I continued. “You look tired.”
“I’m old,” she laughed, “I always look tired.”
“You’re not old, Marcy,” I shook my head. “But you do deserve a break every now and then. You’re going to drive yourself into the ground if you keep staying here so late. Go home, have a good dinner, and take a hot bath. Please?”
“Fine,” she flicked her desk light off, “but only because my eyes are tired and I’d hate to mess up this piece and have to start over.”
“Thank you,” I hugged her. “I worry about you.”
“Don’t waste your time worrying about me, child,” she patted my cheek.
“I don’t consider worrying about you as wasting my time.” I moved towards the cubbies where we kept our personal stuff and grabbed my purse, slinging it onto my shoulder.
