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I tamed my panic. I’d only seen her cry a handful of times. My grandmother’s funeral, the birth of her first great-grandchild, when I graduated college, and today.
Tears spilled down her cheek. She fumbled through her pockets, pulling out an embroidered handkerchief and pressing it to her cheek.
“Silly goose,” she scolded herself, head shaking. She pressed her lips together, coral pink lipstick staining just below her lip line. “I need to talk to you about something, Theodora. Something serious.”
I paled, visions of my grandmother’s cancer diagnosis flooding back. I reflexively sat back in my seat, body rigid, preparing for bad news.
“Oh, no,” Mrs. Evans quickly corrected course. “Nothing wrong, per se. Health-wise, I’m fine. I mean, for an octogenarian, I suppose. But, I am old.”
“You’re not that old.”
“I’m ancient, honey.” She coughed, masking her laugh. “And as much as I’ve adored my time in Franklin Notch, my joints aren’t what they used to be.”
I flinched, sensing the conclusion of this conversation and wishing I hadn’t. “You’re leaving me?”
The question came out reedy and strained. I bit my lower lip as she nodded.
“It’s time, Theodora. I promised your grandmother I’d see you grown up, which you are. A beautiful, vivacious woman who doesn’t need a doddering old woman following her around.”
“You’re not a doddering old woman,” I insisted, wiping a finger over my cheek as a tear spilled out.
“I am. And while I love you to pieces, I want to spend more time with my grandkids before my time is up.”
The reference to her death made my tears flow in earnest. Much like I couldn’t imagine my life without my grandmother, I couldn’t imagine my life without her best friend.
“Besides, maybe this’ll encourage you to close this place and spend your time doing something you love more.”
“But I do love this store,” I insisted.
She shook her head, picking up her coffee and taking a delicate sip. “No. You love your grandmother and you love me, so you kept this place limping by over the years. And I appreciate it. I do. I don’t know I could have stayed without something to pass the days, but your grandmother didn’t want this place to be an albatross, and I don’t either.”
I would never have called the thrift store an “albatross,” even if I’d never loved the place like my grandmother had. I loved spending my childhood digging through the trunks and exploring the backrooms of the old shop. I loved sitting at the cash register and listening to my grandmother and Mrs. Evans gossip. I loved the surety of knowing that every Monday at ten, Mrs. Evans would sit in the break room with a cup of tea. I loved how the place made me feel. Cozy and warm.
But she had a point.
The store hadn’t made money in years. It barely broke even. My clothing line supplemented her salary and kept the bills paid outside of the tourist season. Without manning the cash register for doctor’s appointments, I would have more time for my business, my passion.
Still, I didn’t want her to go.
“When are you leaving?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“End of the month. I decided over the holidays and planned to tell you as soon as I got back, but I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“You’re not disappointing me,” I said, sucking back tears.
“And I’ll be hurt if you don’t come visit me. You’re up that way sometimes, aren’t you?”
I huffed out a laugh. “No, but I’ll find a reason to come. I want to see that sweet baby.”
“And maybe bring one of your own?” she asked, a touch of hope in her voice.
“One day,” I said noncommittally, though I hoped sooner rather than later. “What am I supposed to do without you?”
“Not have to hire a cleaner twice a year, for one.”
“Besides that.”
“I imagine have more time for fun. Or to relax. Do you recall what relaxing is? I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you do it,” she teased.
