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Yours in love,
Dove
Tucked inside the journal behind the entry was a tattered, faded propaganda ad for Rosie the Riveter. A shiver ran through her simply holding the first real feminist empowerment movement. The strong, powerful message resonated with her now more than ever in this turbulent social and cultural climate. She knew from her grandmother’s stories that she had closed the inn and gone to San Francisco for a year, working on the dock factories, welding ships.
She’d done it to save the inn and to feel closer to the man she loved.
Sarah closed the journal and sighed. An eerie sense of history repeating itself washed over her like the waves on the sand in the distance.
What would have happened if her grandmother had sold the inn when times were tough and played it safer with an office job, which was customary, instead of rolling up her sleeves in a factory position?
How different would life have been for them all?
As much as Sarah loved the city, she adored her hometown. She couldn’t imagine having grown up anywhere else.
And now, she was facing a similar dilemma that her grandmother had so many years ago. Her grandmother had chosen to stick to her dream and do whatever was necessary to protect it.
But what did that mean for her? Which pathwouldbe following her dream? Staying and pouring her heart into this new business—and launching her own side hustle doing what she loved—or working for an established company, doing what was expected of her until someday she had the confidence to break out on her own?
She continued to read several other entries, detailing her grandmother’s journey to San Francisco and the early days on the job, marveling over her strength and commitment. She’d always known her grandmother was an amazing woman, but this inside glimpse into her heart and mind had Sarah wishing she’d had just a little more time with her.
Seeing Jessica’s car pull into the driveway an hour later, she put the journal aside and headed downstairs, her legs screaming in pain with each step.
“Hey, were you up there the whole time?”
Lia’s voice on the landing behind her would have made her jump if her legs were capable. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Is that Jess and Whitney?” Lia asked, hot on her heels. As usual.
“Yes,” she said, wincing in pain on the last step. So much for hoping maybe Lia would go visit her parents that evening so she could have her girls’ night with her friends without her.
Lia frowned as she glanced at her legs. “What’s wrong? Why are you walking weird?”
“Oh jeez, I don’t know. Could be the ten-mile run you forced me to do,” she mumbled as she opened the front door. “Hey, guys,” she said, never more grateful to see her friends. Maybe Lia would leave them to visit alone? Nope, instead she invited herself to girls’ night.
“Yay, this is going to be so much fun. I can’t wait to hear all the latest gossip.”
Lia loved gossip. In high school, she knew everything about everyone and had no problem sharing her knowledge. She’d even started a gossip rag in junior high and used the printer in the school library to circulate copies of her newsworthy headlines likeWho Wore the Same Dress to the Fall DanceandWho is Crushing on Whom…until the school shut her down, thanks to Sarah’s anonymous tip. She’d caught a glimpse of the upcoming issue while Lia was working on it in the school computer lab, and Sarah refused to have her secret crush on Wes revealed to the entire school.
Of course, she hadn’t been able to shut down Lia’s loud mouth.
“Didn’t I promise you the place would look amazing?” Whitney asked Lia, standing back to take in all the renovations herself. She nodded her approval. “The pictures you sent don’t even do it justice,” she told Sarah.
The praise from her friend lifted Sarah’s spirits. Whitney wasn’t one to dole it out at random.
“There’s still some work to finish up,” Lia said, because of course she had to throw in her two cents. She moved past Sarah to take a bottle of wine from Jessica. “Oh…this isn’t chilled to the right temperature for a Shiraz.”
“I thought red wine was supposed to be room temperature,” Sarah said.
“No, Sarah… Red needs to be chilled to exactly sixty-two degrees to bring out the best variations in flavor… Do you have a wine chiller?”
Thank God her grandmother did have one. “In the dining room,” Sarah said, then waited until Lia disappeared before turning to Jessica and Whitney. “Let’s go out. Hurry, before she comes back.”
Jessica laughed. “We can’t do that.”
“She’s your client, remember?” Whitney said.
“It’s the only thing keeping me from killing her. At least until after she pays the invoice,” Sarah muttered as Lia reappeared.
