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She’s burning away right now.
An incomplete masterpiece just like this.
A life left unfinished.
Not again.
I’mnotgoing to cry over my mother’s worktable.
Absolutely not.
I’ve done enough crying in the last few weeks for several lifetimes.
Sucking in several deep breaths, I focus on tidying up, always keeping an ear out for the jingling bell over the shop door.
No one’s dusted back here since Mom went into the hospital. So I wipe down the shelves and organize, telling myself I’m getting it ready so it’ll be in perfect condition when she gets better and comes home.
There’s not much else to do.
Though we have a good glut of tourists at the moment, they tend to get their shopping done in the early days of their long visits so they can spend the rest of their time exploring the outdoors or trying out local restaurants.
It’ll pick up again around Christmas when people want rustic gift baskets to give away.
The big-city folks love that, proudly announcing that they found some handmade kitsch in a cute little shop in backwoods North Carolina. I just wonder who’ll be running the store for the holidays.
If Ros doesn’t get better...
Oh, here we go.
The hoarse sob braying out of me hits me like a baseball bat to the face.
I drop my rag and clap both hands over my mouth.
I can’t think of still being here at Christmas.
I can’t think of what it’ll be like with just me alone in that house and Ros swept off to God knows where with Aleksander Dickhead like nothing else matters.
Momgone.
What do I have to keep me here if she passes?
Grant?
Yes.
But also, no, it’s too soon.
He has a life here I can’t just intrude on permanently with my heart torn and bleeding.
...and am I honestly thinking of staying in this little red-gabled hellmouth just because my childhood crush suddenly likes me back?
It’s not like gravity-defying wonder-sex means there’s a future.
Not even real feelings mean that, no matter how complicated they might be.
He doesn’t owe me anything.
His life is complicated enough, and the thought of dumping my drama, my mess, on Grant and that sweet little girl...
