Carpe Bead'em
Date: 2011-05-11 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Chick Lit; Cozy Mystery; Contemporary; Contemporary Romance
Description: **eFestival of Words 2012 Women's Fiction Winner From USA TODAY Bestselling Author Tonya Kappes**Orphaned at a young age, Hallie Mediate was raised by her (slightly) crazy Great Aunt Grace on the wrong side of the tracks in Cincinnati. Hallie dreamed of escaping her hometown and never looking back. After putting herself through college, landing her dream job in Chicago, and starting a romance with her handsome running partner Bo Pompillio, life is finally exactly as she wants it. That is, until she’s transferred back to the hometown. Not wanting her past to cross paths with her future, Hallie

Carpe Bead ‘Em
a novel

Tonya Kappes

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without the permission in writing from the author or publisher.

Edition: May 2011

Copyright © 2011 by Tonya Kappes

All rights reserved.

Cover art designed by Laura Morrigan

Also by Tonya Kappes

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For my Eddy.

The man who always has my back, and my heart.

Acknowledgments

Even though writing is a journey writers take alone, there are people along the way that make it
an enjoyable one.

First and foremost, I’d like to thank the three reasons I get up in the morning—my boys, Jack, Austin, and Brady. They encourage me with their strength, positive attitude, and unconditional love.

Much gratitude to my writing buddies who help me brainstorm, help me through my growing pains as a writer, and encourages me to keep going: Cathy Liggett, Heather Webber, Hilda Lindner Knepp, Shelley Shepard Gray, and Renee Vincent.

To my dear friends at The Naked Hero grog, Dee Dee Scott, Lee Lopez, Heather Webber, and Misa Ramirez for hanging out with me each week. Keeping this career real.

Jane Porter, thank you for being a great role model and strength of inspiration.

Without my family, Linda and John Lowry, Tracy, David, Ben and Maddie Darlington, Ann and Don Bedson, I wouldn’t be the person I am today with the drive I have.

This book wouldn’t have gotten completed if it weren’t for Doctor Alyssa Wood, who took special care of my sick pup, Charlie, and fixing him. I have to have Scooter and Charlie at my feet during the writing process.

Lisa Mediate Dare, my dearest friend who has been with me through thick and thin. I love you, girl.

Also a big shout out to Cincinnati news anchor, Sheila Gray, for letting me use her cool jewelry for inspiration.

Finally, to my dear Aunt Grace, who made my life full of amusement and special memories. I hope everyone has an Aunt Grace in their family.

Week One

Families are like fudge, mostly sweet with a few nuts.

Author Unknown

Chapter One

Groaning, I squeeze the pillow over my ears. Please…even that doesn’t muffle the ringing phone. Blinking into the darkness, I heave the pillow across the room and grab my clock.

What the hell?

I shake it to make sure I’m seeing the real time.

Two-fifteen. In the morning.

Are you kidding me?

The ringing stops for a few seconds and I think, pray, that it's over.  But then it starts again.

Argh…no. I squint trying to focus on the Caller ID without messing up my cocoon of blankets.

Aunt Grace.

Enough said.

I reach for the phone, but stop. Does she really need me this time? My fingers stretch closer. What if it is an emergency? My fingers retract. No. What…what if it’s just like every other time? All the times she called to shoot the breeze in the middle of the night?

One more ring and the answering machine picks up. I can’t do it. I can’t ignore her call. I close my eyes, pick up and press on.

“Hello, Aunt Grace.” Three words in, and I am already exhausted with this conversation.

“You are psychic just like your mother. I swear you even sound like her.” Aunt Grace said.

Well, Great Aunt Grace, really. Ninety-two years old. I swear she’s going to outlive all her relatives—if I don’t kill her first. Not that there are many of us left. After my parents died it was just me and her. I guess I owe her.

“I wanted to tell you about this fine young man I think you’ll like.” She acts like it’s three in the afternoon. Doesn’t she realize it is in the middle of the night? I can tell where this is going.

“Aunt Grace, can’t this wait until the morning? Better yet, why don’t I come visit?” I plead.

I try to see her every six or eight weeks. It’s the least I can do. Well, the least I can do for myself. I live almost five hours from Cincinnati, in Chicago, and she still continues to call in the middle of the night. Distance and time are irrelevant when it strikes her fancy to call me. At least I can control my trips back to Cincinnati.

“It can’t wait until tomorrow, and I don’t want you to drive here this time of the night.”

“That’s good. At least you know what time it is. I’ll call you tomorrow about this guy.” I’m afraid her mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be. Not that it was ever that sharp.

“Of course I know the time. I just finished playing cards with the girls down the hall.”

“Down the hall?” Aunt Grace owns an apartment building in one of the seedier areas of downtown Cincinnati.

“You know. The girls who rent from me. Besides aren’t you in Chicago?”

A calm but eerie feeling comes over me. Thank God she remembers where I live. Some nights she calls and thinks I’m dodging her when I try to explain how I can’t just pop over to visit.

“Besides, aren’t you in Chicago?” She repeats.

“Yes, Aunt Grace. I still live in Chicago. I have a long run in the morning. I need all the sleep I can get.”  Across the room, the door knob turns. My eyes bulge. With the phone cradled between my shoulder and ear, I clap my hands.

Nothing better than The Clapper for someone who is scared of the dark.  Someone like me. If someone is going to rob me or kill me, I want to see them or at least be able to say, “Here Mr. Robber Killer, take whatever you want. I don’t need it.”

Aunt Grace is rambling on about Inas winning the first round of gin rummy. I hardly register it.

“Who’s there?” I hiss towards my bedroom door.

“Hallie,” she says to me, “we live on the fifty-first floor. Who do you think it is?”

I practically faint from relief. The intruder happens to be Lucy, my roommate and best friend. She claps after she opens the door, turning the lights off.

I groan. Lucy still looks good in the middle of the night with her ash blonde hair pulled back. Her turquoise eyes stand out even more without make-up on.

“Getting robbed is virtually impossible unless someone freaks out in our building.” Lucy snickers.

“Clap them back on!” I scream into the dark.

I don’t give a shit that it’s Lucy and not Freddy Freaking Nightmare On Elm Street. If I lived in Fort Knox, I would still be afraid of the dark. Lucy and I continue to clap my lights on and off until the room feels like a disco.

Finally, her long lean legs carry her five foot nine frame out my bedroom, ending the clapping feud.

“What’s going on, Hallie?” Aunt Grace croons through the phone.

My head spins in confusion. Aunt Grace is humming a tune from the musical Chicago.

Another one of her quirks. She just breaks out in tune. Not song, but tune.

“If Aunt Grace wakes me up with her calls, then I want to make sure you stay up.” Lucy continues to clap.

“Hallie? What’s going on? Do I need to kick some…?”

“No, no, Aunt Grace.” I have to interrupt her because if she starts cursing, she doesn’t stop. “It’s only Lucy.”

I put my pillow over my head.

“That crazy superstitious girl you met in college?”

“Yes, Aunt Grace. The same Lucy that was my college roommate and is still my roommate.”

My patience is running thin. “Goodnight.”

“Hallie, wait. I still haven’t told you about the young man.” There is pride in her voice. “He’s Italian.”

Here we go. I roll my eyes as she talks. She is always doing this to me. I admit that being single at twenty-eight isn’t in my plan, but I don’t need Aunt Grace playing Cupid.

“He lives in Chicago, and I gave him your number to look you up.”

My heart pounds a mile a minute. I hate when she does this. I can just imagine it’s one of her loony friend’s cuckoo relative who’s probably a loon like all the others.

“You what?” I sat straight up in bed. “Aunt Grace you can’t do that in today’s age. What if he’s crazy and tries to track me down and kill me?”

Thank God I live in a building with a doorman that has to buzz up any visitors. And double Thank God I have The Clapper.

“Good Italian family,” she says, ignoring me.

Here we go again.

“Don’t you know most people my age are waiting well into their thirties to get married?” I inform her.

“Just keep an open mind. In my day if you weren’t married by twenty, you were considered an old maid.”

“Lucky for us we aren’t in your day.”

“Good Italian family,” she repeats before she hangs up. Aunt Grace always gets the last word.

Needless to say, my nerves are shot, and it takes me over an hour to calm down. I must’ve turned my alarm off because I didn’t wake up for my run.

Chapter Two

My alarm! Not the physical alarm, but my internal alarm clock, propels me out of bed. I lunge for my real clock and shake the life out of it.

The damn thing.

I need to invest in a new clock because this happens several times a week. And Shaken Clock Syndrome has just about done the thing in. I own up to the fact it could be operator rather than mechanical error.

My hair hangs in front of my eyes like a dark waterfall. I try to blow it out of the way, but it’s too heavy to move. Instinctively I take the rubber band from my wrist and pull my hair up in a high pony.

The entire apartment is extremely quiet. Obviously Lucy isn’t awake, and I’m not about to flick her lights on and off to wake her up, like she did last night. Granted, she didn’t wake me up—Aunt Grace did—but I could’ve lain there while Aunt Grace talked and slept through most of it. Lucy had to make drama out of it, just as she does with everything.

Seven o’clock.

I have two options. One, I can throw on some clothes and meet my running group, even if I’m late, as I do every morning. Or two, I can chuck training all together and stay in my comfortable bed.

But if I stay in bed I won’t be able to see him. And seeing him is worth getting out of bed.

I throw on my light gray Adidas shirt and my light blue Nike running shorts, then lace up my kickers. And make sure my pony is staying put.

I have always wanted to cut my hair short to see if I would like it. If I didn’t like it, the hair fairy could put it all back for me.

Everyone tells me how beautiful my long black hair is. “Silk,” they say. My bold dark facial features scream “Italian” while my skinny five foot eight inch body screams something far different. My family always told me if I stand sideways with my tongue sticking out, I would look like a zipper. Somehow, changing my hair feels like it would change me, so I never summon the courage to actually do it.

Luckily, the elevator isn’t busy and I hop right on.

Downstairs the doorman holds the door open before I pass by.

“Thanks, Sam!”

“Running late?” He’s cracking up at my expense. “Get it? Running late. You’re running.”

“Funny, Sam. Don’t quit your day job.” I point to his hat.

Sam has his nose in all the comings and goings of the people in the joint. And he has his finger on the button to open the door when he hears the elevator. Sam is good at his job.

It’s a beautiful summer morning. The sun is already over the lake and dogs are out walking their owners. I set my radar east.

I shouldn’t have a hard time finding the group if I head up Superior, right on Lakeshore, and head south towards the Park District. We always start along the lake from Buckingham Fountain.

It’s a gorgeous day for a run. The city is already buzzing with tourists. The retail workers are getting ready for the day, which is good for me since I am the manager at the Gucci store on Michigan Avenue. I try to surround myself with things I love, and I love Gucci.

A vision of beauty runs towards me. No, not Gucci. I would know that five-foot-eleven frame from miles away.

“Please, knees stay under me,” I whisper under my breath. The last thing I need is to pass out and have to explain to him—or anyone—that his awesomeness was why.

I watch the way his muscles contract with each stride. His strong jaw is locked in place just below his dark hair, and the way his muscles protrude from his sleeveless blue Under Armor send chills up my legs. His hazel eyes look into mine.

“Cold, Hallie?” Bo Pompillio points to my legs just as I pass him. “Get going and you’ll warm up.”

Little did he know the chills came from looking at him. I fall into line with the rest of the running pack. We have been training for the Chicago Marathon going on two years. We all met at the gym with the same goal in mind. Marathon.

Okay, I really never wanted to run a marathon. I wanted Bo. He’s on my mind, and when I heard that it takes a long time to train for a marathon, a long time with him sounded pretty good. Only one thing, he has never seemed to notice me other than as a running partner.

Damn it.

“What happened to you today?” he asks.

“Late night call.” I make the crazy sign with my finger outlining my ear like I did when I was a kid.

I fall in step beside Bo. We seem to have the same stride and keep in sync with each other. Mmmm…In my mind, Bo’s name rolls off my tongue like a hot knife in butter.

“Crazy aunt again?”

“Yep,” I confirm.

Not that I talk about Aunt Grace all the time. He’s referring to the time the running group

went out for dinner and drinks. Aunt Grace decided to call before I left. I knew better than to answer the phone, and by the time the three-hour conversation was over, the dinner party was too.

Even so, that was a phone call that I’m glad I took. She was about to kill Uncle Jimmy, her husband, with an electric knife. Thank God the cord wasn’t long enough, although she sure was trying to make it stretch.

“She’s lucky she has you.” Bo glances over, smiles. “And she can’t be all that bad. She did a fine job raising you.”

All smiles from here on out. I can run all day now. Well all day next to Bo.

Silence took its place as we all worked on our breathing techniques, and strides.

If you had told me two years ago that I’d be running for over two hours at a time, I would’ve told you that you were crazy. But here I am.

Bo stops and turns to the group. There is barely a trickle of sweat on his brow. Oh how I would kill to dab that one trickle.

“Tonight we’re having a new band at the club, so stop by.” He is looking at me. At me!  “Starts about nine. It should be fun.” His lip curls up, melting my heart.

Secretly I wish he’s making an exclusive invitation, but everyone is eagerly accepting his offer.

Bo co-owns an up-and-coming blues bar, and has invited me and my girlfriends to come by several times. Each time I have been dressed to the nines, but he has never shown up. Finally, my friends got tired of going and paying for all their drinks. Not that we were expecting free drinks, but one free drink would’ve been nice that considering we were there to support his bar.

Maybe tonight will be different.

Chapter Three

Lucy and I lucked out on our condo. It is prime real estate belonging to the family of a girl we met in college. They didn’t want to sell it and just by chance she was talking about it when we were looking to rent. Lucy and I loved visiting Chicago and took the plunge. The lease is a little steep, the view is well worth it. Plus our building is located on One West Superior and State Street which is in the heart of downtown. What more could two fun single girls want?

Lucy meanders down the hall, scratching her head and yawning. I fill her in on the latest Bo news, and try not to sound the least bit excited.

“Can’t go. Georgia’s.” Lucy reminds me.

A little disappointment sweeps over me. But nothing will ever replace girls’ night in with our two best friends Georgia and Prudence.

“Oh, I forgot. I’ll be there.” My eyebrows lift. “I might sneak over to the club for a little while.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing, I can tell you that.” She pushes the button on the coffee maker.

“There’s a secret meeting today at Gucci today.” I can’t help but be a tad-bit nervous. “I’ve got to get ready.”

“What do you mean a meeting?” Lucy follows me back to my bedroom, and sits on the bench at the foot of my bed.

“You know how retail is.” I didn’t want to alarm her too much. “One day it’s up and the next day it’s down. You never know, do you?”

Lucy isn’t buying it. “First, I don’t like how you’re acting,” she said. “If you aren’t concerned, you wouldn’t have brought it up. Secondly, you’re the manager and they didn’t tell you about it. I’d be a little curious.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about it tonight.” I reassure her, knowing full well she is going to be as nervous as me until she hears that we worried for nothing. She’s my best friend for a reason. “Now get out of here. I need to get ready.”

Of course I’ve heard the buzz about stores closing all over the United States. Some are laying off associates and having the managers’ work on the floor. Managers don’t have time to stay on the floor, though when a loyal customer comes in, the manager will make a special appearance to welcome them back or give a little sales boost. We want our customers to feel pampered.

I never took the economy into consideration when I chose fashion merchandising for a career choice. Who knew that in a few years after graduating from college that we would be in a recession?

I had to put my best Gucci—I mean foot—forward today. Piper Kelty, the regional manager, likes my hair in a tight low pony and she loves black. Black happens to look best on me so I opt for my Lace-Up Flute Dress that I got at a killer sale at Neiman Marcus, more killer than the discount I can get at my store. I toss my strappy sandals in my bag because walking a few blocks in strappies is not fun, to say the least.

Ready or not, I face the rest of the day.

Chapter Four

After grabbing a quick cup of coffee to go from Addicted to the Bean, I change from my tennis shoes to my sandals, and through the entrance I go. I don’t show fear. I never show fear. Gucci people can smell it like a knockoff handbag.

“Good morning, lovely co-workers.” I toast the staff with my coffee cup held high. “Are we ready to get this meeting started before we charm our clients with our style and grace?”

I can smell the fear. The cheap pleather handbag odor is in the air. Everyone’s face is easy to read. They part to let me through to the counter, where the regional manager stands.

“Good morning, love.” Piper Kelty welcomes me the French way. We quickly exchange kisses on each cheek. I had no idea she was going to be here this early or I would’ve gotten here earlier.

She always seems to beat me to the punch. Last year, when Bo invited me to his bar, I invited some co-workers, including Piper, and she was all over him like a Polyester shirt. Where was her integrity? After that, she’s been a bar groupie.

“You look divine. Do we sell that here?” Piper looks at me with pointed questions in her eyes.

They want you to wear the clothes you sell in your store so the customers can see how cute you look.  But it’s a flagship store. We don’t carry all the products.

“I got it when I went to training in New York.” I lie, knowing that if I tie the dress to training, she’ll be more willing to accept it.

“You are the best manager we have!” Piper is glowing. She puts her hands together, and there is excitement in her voice. “That is why I am here.”

Everyone holds their breath.

“We are promoting you to regional manager,” she says. “Your first job is in Cincinnati.”

My co-workers clap, probably in relief that they aren’t on the hot seat. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I have worked so hard to get where I am, not go back to where I came from.

“Isn’t it great?” Piper hands me a flute filled with champagne. “To, Hallie.”

I stand in the middle of my employees as they hold their glasses in the air. In celebration. To me, it was anything but.

“Hallie, do you have anything to say?” Piper coaxes.

“I…I.” No freaking way is what I have to say! I am sick to my stomach. My mouth is dry. Abruptly I close it.

“I know! You’re stunned.” Piper is practically jumping up and down, adding to my nausea. “Your family is going to be so excited to have you back for three months.”

“What are you talking about? Do I have to accept?” I whisper to Piper.

The room grows deathly silent. I never realized how loud the clock ticks.

A wicked smile causes Piper’s eyes to squint. “Your office. Now!” She turns on her red high-heel pumps, tosses her blonde hair, and stomps off.

I follow.

“Are you crazy?” She scolds me as soon as the door is shut. “This is a dream job. You get to open a new store. What is your problem?”

I’ve never noticed all the freckles on Piper’s face. Then again I’ve never been nose to nose with her either.

“Do I have a choice? Why don’t you do it?” I ask, stepping back to put a little distance between us.

“I’ve had my turn. I’m going to take over here while you are away. It’s only three months.” She sits at my desk like she owns the place. “I need a break and you’re my protégé. Why not you?”

Think fast, think fast.

“I’m honored. Really Piper I am, but I can’t afford to pay rent in two separate cities. Besides, I can’t do that to Lucy.” I have no good reason to give her. No damn good reason at all.

“Don’t worry,” she says.  “It’s on the company. We have a little apartment, just north of the city, in the Hyde Park district. The Gucci boutique is located in the Saks Fifth Avenue store downtown. If you like the job, you get to work on the new flagship store going up all over the mid-west next year.” Piper acts like a girl in a candy shop. She is a little too excited for me, which sends up red flags.

Why does she want me gone?

“I will have to think about it.” I’m not going to let her bully me into a job I don’t want.

“Don’t think too hard, because I’d hate to see you work the floor again.” Her eyes darken.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think sparks are about to fly out of them.

Everything on her face and in her body speaks: I’m the regional manager, which gives me the right to move whomever she pleases. It just so happens that I please to move you.

“I see.” I look out the back window, overlooking the alley and begin to gently hum. “I can see clearly now the rain is gone.”

“Go on home and think about it. Take a day off.  Pay on me.” She waves me out. “Ta-ta, love.”

I don’t have the guts to look my employees in the eyes. Especially after I feel their stares all over me. I might be a coward, but I don’t want to go back to Cincinnati. I’ve spent too many years trying to keep my past…well just that. In the past.

Laying around all day didn’t help my mood. I’m hopeful that going to Georgia’s and being with my best friends will help clarify what’s happening in my life. They are exactly what I need.

“Unbelievable!” Prudence belts out. “You know I never liked Piper. The instance I met her, I knew she was trouble.”

In true best friend fashion, Georgia and Lucy are rooting Prudence on.

“I would’ve marched around your desk and told her not to get too comfortable.” Georgia cocks her right eyebrow which is partially covered by her crimson hair.

I’ll never forget the day I met Prudence. It was at the store, and we were about to close. Most employees groan when they hear the front bell signaling a customer right before quitting time. Not me. I know they are out looking for something specific and that means a sale. Usually a big sale, and I was right.

She needed an outfit for a big trial the next day. I not only got her the perfect suit, I picked out the perfect shoes and perfect briefcase to go with it. The commission alone was three months’ rent.

She came in frequently after that and we became friends.

“What are you going to do?” Georgia asks. Leave it up to the sensible one in the group to cut to the chase.

“I don’t have a choice. I’ll pay Lucy rent and have a place there.” I fiddle with my cocktail napkin. “It’s only three months.”

“The last three months before your marathon.” Georgia brushes her loose crimson curls out of her blue eyes.

I forgot all about the marathon, and how moving will affect my real life. My heart flutters. I don’t know what I’ll do without my daily dose of Bo. I know all his t-shirts by heart. I know exactly what he will wear before I begin running behind him.

“I’ll be back for the marathon,” I confirm. But I know there is no way I’m going to be motivated to run in Cincinnati, much less continue to train for the marathon.

Lucy laughs so hard that she has to put her hand down to catch herself from falling over. Her laughter is contagious. We have no idea what we are smiling about.

“There is a bright side.” She wraps her hands around her stomach. “No more midnight phone calls. You can visit Aunt Grace every day.”

We all laugh. It’s true. Laughter is the best medicine. Even if I know I’m going to be sick.

Chapter Five

Girls’ night is over by midnight, and it’s too early for me to go home—especially when I know Bo’s bar is hoping.

If I hurry, I can make it there in twenty minutes, and have a cocktail while I tell him about me moving. I picture him grabbing me and begging me not to go. No harm in wishful thinking, right?

The city is more alive than ever and the night life sounds are electric. The laughter, the fighting sounds of drunken lovers, the zooming cars all feed into my senses. I better savor it now, because Cincinnati night-life is nowhere near this exciting.

I wind my way through the crowd to get to the bar. All sorts of people frequent the place. Bo has an ingenious way of doing business and catering to varied clientele.

The seating is the shape of quarter-moon with black velvet coverings.  The red and black plush pillows add to the comfort.  The tables are also geometrically shaped to fit the bench. The bar is all cherry wood, with tall cherry bar stools covered with leather. This is definitely a high-end blues bar.

Bo is nowhere in sight, as usual. I sit next to a couple completely making out to a Stevie Ray Vaughan song the band is belting out.

“Get a room.” My hand tries to slap the words back in my mouth when I realize what I just said.

I completely let that one slip.

“What did you say?” The female half of the couple, a low-baring halter-top, bimbo leans into my face. She pokes me with her fiberglass fake fingernail. “Loser.”

I laugh when she walks away, waving my hand in front of my nose. She smells like a cross between an ashtray and whiskey distillery.

On the other side of the bar counter, I catch a glimpse of Bo. He leans over, bright red lips whisper in his ear, and long blonde hair trickles over his shoulder.

I squint. I squint harder. I can’t believe my eyes.

Piper! She leans over the bar and points to the girl next to her.

The girl leans and stops before her boobs pop out of her tight top. Bo’s eyes go straight to her cleavage as she speaks to him. To make matters worse, he throws back his head joining them in their stupid laughter and lets his eyes fall back to the valley between her boobs.

I throw back my overpriced drink and head home. Alone.

The thought of Bo and Piper makes my blood boil even more than the idea of moving back to Cincinnati. I take my time walking home, because I know I’m not going to be able to fall asleep.

Could my day get any worse? I know I’m going to have to do my three months in Cincinnati, and train for a marathon. There are plenty of beautiful parks, just not plenty of beautiful Bos. Or even the one beautiful Bo.

Lucy is tucked in her room when I tip-toe down the hall. I plop into bed and stare at the ceiling. I have a sneaky feeling that I’m going to be doing a lot of this in the next three months.

Aunt Grace.

“Hello, Aunt Grace.” I roll over and stare at the clock. Four in the morning. At least it’s a little later than usual.

“I swear you are psychic just like your mom,” she chimes in.

“No, Aunt Grace. Caller ID.”

She exhausts me.

Chapter Six

The start of today is beginning to be just as bad as the end of yesterday. The only way to get rid of this headache is a good cup of coffee from Addicted to the Bean, which I grab on my way to work.

I need to clean out my office. It’s early, no one will be there to ask any questions or make me feel worse than I already do.

I worked hard to get where I am, not only in life, but also in my professional career. Even though it’s a promotion, I feel it’s a big step in the wrong direction. Piper is the leader in this Simon Says game.

“Great,” I mutter under my breath when I see the lights on in the store.

See what happens when I take a day off, the associates forget to check off the closing list.

“Hello?” A voice echoes from my office.

“Hello?” I yell back after I grab an empty hanger off the return cart. It might come in handy if I need a weapon.

“Hallie, is that you?” Piper’s blonde head pokes around my office door.

“Piper?”

Damn. She always beats me to the punch. I can’t even clean out my desk without her here.

“What are you doing here?” Her head cocks to the side.

“What are you doing here?” I question her back.

“The ball rolling. No sense in the delay.  Everyone is ready for you to transfer.” She drags her finger along the edge of my desk and sits in my chair. “I was going to call you later today to discuss your package.”

Seeing her in my chair really pisses me off.

“What package?” There’s a package already?

“I think you’ll find it rather cushy.” She holds a large manila envelope up in the air with my name on it.

Yep, as plain as day, in huge red letters. Hallie.

“That’s your stuff too.” Her nose crinkles and she points over to a small Pop-Tart-size box on the edge of the desk.

Piper’s appearance catches my attention.  Her hair is a mess, and she doesn’t have any make-up on. Plus, I’ve never seen her in a t-shirt.

Oh, God!

“Hallie?” Piper stands up, and the entire shirt is exposed. She walks me over to my chair “Here, sit down. You look a little sick. Are you okay?”

I sit, trying not to focus. She says something about water and exits the room. The room spins out of control. I gasp for air that is not there. I hold on to the arms of the chair to steady myself.

“Sit back down.” I look past the glass of ice water she is holding in front of me and focus on the shirt. Bo’s t-shirt.

“I’m fine,” I gasp and push her hand out of the way. I need to get out of there. I hold onto the edge of the desk to gain my footing. I snatch the envelope. “I need to go. I’ll look over it, and call you later.”

“Don’t forget your little box of stuff.” She points.

“Keep it,” I mumble under my breath. I swear if I look at her, I’m going to die.

The sidewalk is crowded. I blend in, slip around the corner and lean up against the brick allowing the heat to radiate through my cold, limp body. I take a deep breath trying to get oxygen to my brain.

What just happened in there? Not only did I lose my job, but I’ve completely lost Bo. My life is disintegrating in front of me.

My instincts kick in and I run.

Forrest Gump pops into my head. I run with the envelope under my arm, trying to get the image of Piper wearing Bo’s t-shirt out of my head.

His Wednesday t-shirt.

Every Wednesday for the past two years I’ve been running behind that shirt. Staring at that same stain in the middle of the Wednesday shirt every week. I’d know that shirt from anywhere.

How could she? I introduced them a long time ago. She was only a decoy as part of my posse. When he asked me to come to the bar, I wasn’t going alone. She knows I have a thing for him. How could he? She’s pretentious, mean-spirited and beautiful to boot.

What is he thinking?

Tears build up around my eye lids. I blink, allowing the dam to break, and let the them trickle down. Forget Bo, Piper and this job. It’s all I can repeat over and over in my head as the pavement pounds under my feet.

The faster I run, the quicker I’ll be home under my covers where I belong.

Chapter Seven

“Get up.” Lucy claps her hands, and my lights turn on. “Your cell’s been going off all day.”

Sunlight enters my cave of darkness as she pulls up the shades.

I clap my hands only for Lucy to clap back. “Close my shades,” I demand, and pull the covers over my head.

“I can clap all day.” She claps again. “Bo stopped by. He wanted to know why you didn’t show up for the run.”

I sit up. I can’t believe that he had the nerve to stop by here. How long has their relationship been going on? He never talks about her—or anyone else, for that matter.

“You look terrible.” Lucy’s cockeyed face stares at me.

The most awful animalistic cry comes out of my mouth. It sounds like an exorcism is being performed.

“I hate them.” I bang my fists into the mattress.

No matter how hard I punch, it doesn’t make me feel better.

“I don’t know what is going on. All I know is Bo seemed really concerned when I told him I thought you were ill.” Lucy sits down on my bed. “Beck and I’ve got an extra steak.”

The nerve! She knows steak is my weakness, especially on the grill. “Want to join us outside?” She’s not below a good bride.

I need to get the t-shirt out of my head, and hanging out with Lucy and eating a big juicy steak might do the trick. I slip out of bed and readjust my ponytail. I look in the mirror. My eyes are red and puffy.  I dab on eye moisturizer. The cool sensations palpitates my eyes back to the land of the living. A smidgen of concealer, and I’m back in business.

I schlep down the hall. Beck, Lucy’s boyfriend, stands by the grill with a beer in his hand.

A twinge of jealousy, seeing Lucy snuggled up behind him, surges through my body. They are perfect for each other. His shaggy brown hair, tan skin gives the impression of his true easy-going spirit.

Even his brown cargo shorts look great with his black T, and flip flops.

“Glad you’re alive.” He holds his beer up.

“Do you know how many times I’ve watched that Wednesday shirt cling to every muscle, every sweat bead?” I curl up on the chaise, looking into the sunny, blue skies.

Our apartment has the coolest balcony. The dark chocolate fabric with huge light blue flowers goes perfect with teak table and chair set. The flat-screen TV that’s hanging on the wall, is tuned to the Cubs game.

“Beck, you’re a guy. What’s going on with that?” I pat around my puffy eyes to restart the active ingredients in the moisturizer.

“I say he doesn’t owe you an explanation.” Beck brushes his loose curls out of his eyes.

“What you just said doesn’t make me feel better.” I reach up for the Manhattan cocktail Lucy made for me.

“Look Hallie, this guy never asked you out. He only asked you to come to his bar.” Beck takes the tongs and turns the steaks. “He saw you were into running and all runners need companions. You gave him attention about it. I’m sure he’s a nice guy.”

“I think what Beck is saying is that you never led Bo to believe you’re interested in him. When you did the mini-marathon and he showed up with flowers, you said thanks, and went home and went to bed.”

“I was exhausted.” I totally forgot I did that. “I guess I should’ve asked him to come?”

“No, not to bed.” Lucy always has the answers. “You should’ve stayed up and had lunch or done something together. He probably took it as a sign that you weren’t interested.”

“All men want to be coddled over,” Beck explains. “They may not show it because we want you to think we are manly men. And we don’t give flowers to anyone.”

“What happened to good old-fashioned dating?” I ask. “Boy asks out girl, girl accepts. Boy tries to get to second base on first date; girl plays coy and thus begins the reel-him-in stage.” That is the real question.

Lucy and Beck shrug it off. “Time will tell.” Beck puts an end to the conversation.

“What are we going to do without each other?” Lucy says, bringing me back to my imminent move.

“You mean, what am I going to do without you?” I’m not sure how well I’m going to do without the daily support of her.

The longest Lucy and I’ve ever been apart, since college, was during summer breaks. And even then, we visited for weeks at a time.

“It’ll be like the old days.” She laughs. “I still can’t shake the notion that Piper has something to do with this.”

She paces back and forth.

“If it’s any consolation,” Lucy says, “I think you’re going to rock as a regional manager. I can’t wait to visit.”

Lucy’s finger taps her temple, then points at me. “

I’ve got it!” She scrambles over and sits down next to me. “You’re a threat, so she’s shipping you off … or she’s so jealous of you that she wants your life.”

“Don’t be silly.” I ponder what she says. Lucy is generally right with her hunches, though. I don’t want this to be the reason they promoted me. I refuse to let Lucy plant these kinds of ideas in my head.

Unfortunately my head is telling me the same thing. Piper’s paws are all over the transfer and Bo.

After dinner, I leave Beck and Lucy to finish watching the game.

My mind is on overload, and I actually fall asleep pretty quickly, and sleep all night. I’ve made peace with my decision, and ready to start my three-month sentence.

Chapter Eight

I’m done with the pity party. There are a lot of things I’m going to miss about Chicago.

I refuse to let my girls’ night in be effected. I open my laptop and use my good ole’ friend Google. I search for spas around Cincinnati.

To my surprise, I find a charming little town, West Baden, Indiana, that has a really cool-looking spa. With my starting bonus, I’ll be able to afford for all four of us to go. I can’t think of a better way to spend my money. Plus, it’s only thirty minutes from Cincinnati.

I walk in the kitchen, and Lucy is already there pulling the coffee beans out of the cabinet.

“Good morning.” I’m going to miss these special times.

I’m going to make the most of what little time I do have left, and it’s going to be a positive experience. You know what they say about life, lemons and lemonade. I plan to make the sweetest lemonade around.

Lucy puts the coffee mugs on the counter and hands me a beautifully packaged gift. If I didn’t know better and if I had to guess, I’d think it’s a necklace since it’s in a box that a necklace would come in.

“Give it to Piper as a good-luck-and-thanks-for-the-opportunity gift.” Lucy’s failure to make eye contact stirs suspicion.

Curiously, I pick the box up and shake it. Whatever is inside doesn’t sound like a necklace.

“You’re scaring me. What is it?” Do I dare ask?

Carefully, I put the box back on the counter so the poison won’t spill out and kill me.

“Isn’t she going to be moving her and getting her own place?” Lucy questions.

“Yes, unless she is already living with Bo.” The sound and the thought of that makes my stomach turn. I realize I hadn’t thought about how this process is going to uproot Piper. She doesn’t live here, and if she’s going to be working out of Chicago, she’s going to need a place to live.

“It’s a knife.” Lucy’s smile beams with pride.

“A knife?”

“A knife.” She acts as though everything is normal and giving a knife as a present is also normal.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the knife about?” I’m almost afraid of her answer.

“Granny always said to never give a friend a knife as a gift or you cut the friendship forever.” Lucy grins.

Clearly she’s lost her mind. With her coffee mug in nestled her hands, she sashays towards her room not looking back to see my reaction.

Lucy’s granny was full of superstition and shared them with Lucy as she grew up. I say they’re a bunch of old wives’ tales.

I have no idea what makes me put the wrapped knife in my purse, but I do. Frightening as it may sound, I’m not against giving it to Piper under the right circumstances.

You can never go wrong with white pants and a tortoise shell shantung silk blouse. I put my tortoise wedge sandals in my bag to complement the outfit. Looking in the mirror for my last day at the Michigan Avenue store, I take my time getting my coffee and walking to work to accept my fate.

“Hello, everyone.” I greet my co-workers with a fake smile.

The store is buzzing with customers. Some I recognize, some I don’t.

“Good morning, Mrs. Chavez. How are you?” She’s browsing the more expensive part of the store, which isn’t uncommon for her.

“Hello, dear. I’m trying to find something to go with the Joy medium bag I ordered earlier in the spring.” She pulls out a picture of the bag, one that won’t be shipped for a few more weeks and hands it to me.

I know it all too well. I talked her into that bag on a slow day.

“I’m going to be going out of town. Spain, dear. Spain. I want a nice little turquoise shirt to complement it.”

“I’m sure Suzette would love to help you.” Normally I’d help her, but I don’t see the need today. I’m no longer responsible for the Michigan sale. I want to see Piper fall on her face.

Piper motions for Suzette to get lost. Piper looks stunning in the shell print dress that hasn’t even hit the stores yet.

“Don’t worry, Suzette. Let me introduce myself, Mrs. Chavez. I’m Piper Kelty, new store manager. I love to help our loyal customers.” Piper gives me a backhanded look.

“Where are you going, dear?” Mrs. Chavez brows crease.

“I am.…” I start to say before Piper cuts me off.

“She’s going to be the new regional manager in the Cincinnati boutique.” Piper smiles. “We are so proud of her.”

Piper takes Mrs. Chavez by the elbow and gently walks her over to the other side of the boutique.

“Let’s go find some turquoise items to go with your fabulous new bag.”

What the hell? Perspiration beads on my upper lip. Great. My body fluids are boiling.

Mrs. Chavez gives a slight wave over her shoulder as she lets Piper guide her to the really expensive items.

It is on!

I grab the beautifully wrapped knife out of my bag, put it on top the signed offer, and lay both on my desk. I quickly turn on the tips of my heels and walk out. With my head held high.

Chapter Nine

“Aren’t you ready?” Lucy calls from the family room.

I don’t know why they insist on giving me a going-away party. I’m not going away for long.

My faded jeans, white long sleeved shirt, and fringed scarf with golden flats will do the trick.

“Wow, you look great.” Lucy tucks her hair behind her ear.

It’s a big night for us. It goes unspoken although it is loud and clear in our actions. This will be the last night together in our apartment for awhile.

“Thank you.” It comes out in a faint whisper.

This time tomorrow, I’ll be in a completely different stage in my life. I can’t think about that. Being strong for Lucy and my friends is what I need to do right now.

Lucy brushes my hair behind my shoulders and places a rosette clip to one side of my head.

“Perfect.”

We stand for a moment. Looking at each other, not sure what to say.

I break the silence. “Three months isn’t all that long.”

“We better go.” Lucy held the door.

We grab a taxi, down to Water Tower Place, the coolest building to live in. Prudence’s condo is to-die-for with hardwood floors, floor to ceiling windows, and bathrooms with heated tiles so your feet won’t be cold. Oh, and a spectacular view.

“Welcome!” Prudence screams when we walk in. She starts a round of “she’s a jolly good fellow.” Everyone joins in and holds their champagne glasses high in the air.

I’m publicly embarrassed, and privately loving all the attention.

Before walking out on the balcony, I thank everyone for coming.

The cold night air, sends gives me a shiver. I pull my scarf around my arms, and over my right shoulder I see a profile I’d recognize anywhere.

My breathing grows shallow when he turns around and our eyes meet. His eyes penetrate my soul. How could I be so wrong about the attraction I feel between us? The others disappear as we meet in the middle like two magnets.

Why did this June Chicago night have to be so spectacular? The city is lit up. The ferris wheel is going full speed over at the pier, and the sail-boats dot the water like stars.

“I’m sorry to hear you won’t be joining us in the mornings.” Bo says, looking out at Lake Michigan.

Are you kidding me? That’s all he has to be sorry for? I want to grab him by his muscular biceps and shake him. I want to yell, “I started running to get to know you. You are a fool!”

I refrain, however.

He’s part of my plan to get back at Piper. To hurt her for uprooting me.

“I’m going to miss your cute butt.” I put my finger in my cocktail and lick it. I’ve never been this bold, but if I can put some thoughts in his head to mess with him, it’s worth it.

He blushes and nervously laughs. “I knew you ran behind me for some reason.”

I grab two drinks from the floating bartender’s tray. Down one and start on the other.

“I haven’t seen you drink this much before,” he says.

If I’m going to go along with my own plan of getting Bo to notice me, I need to get drunk.

“I don’t think you ever showed up at your bar when you invited me,” I say.

The floating bartender tips her tray away from me when she walks by.

“How did you know I was leaving?” I ask. I want to play coy, and see if he tells me about Piper.

“The other night, your co-workers showed up at the bar without you.” He looks down at his feet. He stammers, “I asked where you were and Piper told me.”

Piper told you? You mean the girl you are sleeping with? The one that is going around wearing your ratty Wednesday shirt in the Church of Gucci?

“Hallie!”  The balcony door flies open just enough so I can see the burning cake behind Prudence. “Get in here and celebrate your success.”

Exchanging a quick glance with Bo, I go in and join the party. Bo’s gentle hand slides down my arm to catch my finger tips and tug. Oh, how I’ve wanted to feel his hands on me.

“I need to tell you something before you go,” His hazel eyes sparkle and his hand is warm.

“I have to go in.”

I don’t want to hear about how he and Piper are a big fat couple. To hear him rub it in my face while turning the knife in my back.

“I really do need to talk to you,” he says before he let go of my hand.

A vision of him holding my hand and walking in together to blow out my candles makes my head spin.

I don’t know if it’s the booze or Bo, but the feeling I get from his touch is better than any high I’ve ever known.

Three months is going to feel like three years. I’m with these three ladies four nights out of the week. We talk on the phone at least once a day. The next three months are destined to be hell.

“We got you a little something.” Georgia smiles and hands me a yellow box.

I laugh, untying the silk ribbon because I know what’s inside. I pull out the rose quartz laughing Buddha.

“I don’t know if you remember but if you put him in the east side of your new apartment he’ll bring you luck, health and happiness.” Lucy points to Beck. “See it helped me.”

It was my idea to give each other a Buddha on special occasions. I love feng shui. I made our apartment as spiritually free-floating as I could.

I had a map of our bagua and placed all sorts of good-luck Chinese pieces around to create a flow to our chi. With the help of water features, bamboo, candles, coins, and red ribbons, I’ve created a harmony to our apartment. Now I’m going to have to do this all over again!

Only one problem, there isn’t enough feng shui in the world to give me peace about revisiting my past.

“I want to thank each and every one of you for coming to see me off,” I say. “I didn’t realize it took me leaving for us all to get together.”

Someone yells out how they came for the free drinks, making everyone laughs.

“Very funny. Seriously, I couldn’t ask for better friends. I’m not going to bother you with opening all these wonderful going away gifts. Besides, Lucy told me that I can’t move anything because once you move out of a place, you can’t move back in for three years.”

“Let me guess, Granny?” someone calls out.

“Yes. Granny.” I smile at Lucy who acts shy and innocent. “And I’m only going to be gone a few months, not years.”

Her Granny’s superstition is trickling in all of us.

“Thank you.” I whisper in Prudence’s ear. “I can’t believe you put this together.” I step back and put my hands together and bow. “Namaste.”

“You are welcome.” She takes my hand. Her nose curls in disgusts. “What is that?”

I look down at my right knuckle. A big red bump the size of a dime. It sorta looks like a boil. I put my finger on it. It doesn’t hurt. It quickly leaves my mind when I pick up the drink from the floating waitress who’s obviously trying to dodge me.

“Are you okay?” Prudence can tell something isn’t sitting well with me.

“I feel a little bit queasy.” I put my hand on the person closest to me. Those beautiful hazel eyes stare back at me. I gush like a school-girl. “Bo.”

“I’ll take her home,” Bo says.

He walks me to the door and I want to to protest, but nothing will come out. I can’t leave my party this early. I want to stay and be with my girlfriends. The butterflies, in my stomach, float around when I imagine three months without them. They are my family. They’re there when I need them. I know it sounds silly, but sometimes I just want nothing more than to be around them.

It’s nice to be able to sit and not talk or even feel like we have to talk. There aren’t too many friendships around like this.

“Come on, Hallie.” Bo prompts me to keep walking.

“I can’t leave.” I babble like an idiot, “I want to stay here and look at them.”

“You have a big day ahead of you.” Bo is the voice of reason and the picture of perfection. “You need to sleep off the alcohol you’ve consumed.”

“Hallie, you’re only going to be gone for three months.” Of course Georgia has to be the one to stand up to me. The “mom” of the group. “We’re still going to have our girls’ night in and we’re going to visit.” She cups her hands around my face and kisses the tip of my nose.

“We love you.” Prudence stands behind her.

“Bo is right.” Lucy looks at Bo and back to me. “You’ve had a little too much to drink and you need to go to bed so you can drive safely tomorrow.”

With my head tucked like a good little girl, I let Bo lead the way.

Chapter Ten

A piece of paper next to my pillow scratches me when I roll over to shield my eyes from the sun dotting through the blinds.

Ignoring the gigantic red bump staring at me from my knuckle, I read the note.

Hallie,

Please call me as soon as you get settled in Cincinnati. It’s really important that I talk to you.

Bo

Embarrassment creeps across my cheeks as I slowly remember the turn of events from last night. The ever-so-well-mannered Bo tucked me into bed, fully clothed, and talked me into sleeping off my drunken stupor.

If Bo wants me to call him as soon as I get settled in Cincinnati, then I haven’t totally scared him off.

It’s something I’m going to have to think about. I’m not sure I’ll be able to grant him his wish. Its bad enough I have to go back to face my past. I’m not about to let my past slide into my future. I’m going to get these three months over and come back to my life.

Hesitant, it takes every bone in my body to put the first pair of shoes in the waiting boxes.

Summer items, shoes and a few lay-around outfits are the only items I’m going to pack. I figure when I’m not at work, I’ll be depressed in my bed, jogging, or on my five-hour journeys back to visit my peeps in Chicago.

“I don’t think your Solara is going to hold much more.” Lucy picks up my Prada sandals and dangles them in the air. “I don’t think these are going to fit.”

“If they don’t, I can hold them.”  I snatch them and slip them back in the bag.

“Hello?” Georgia and Prudence announce their entrance.

“Isn’t she gone yet?” Georgia pats her pregnant belly. “I’m ready to have fun without her,” she sarcastically blurted.

“I guess Sam will let anyone up, huh?” I laugh walking down the hall.

“We came to see you off.” Tears build up in Prudence’s eyes. “I can’t believe I have to boycott Gucci for three months.”

“Are you tearing up because you won’t be shopping?” I tease. “You can come to the Cincinnati store and pick out whatever you like.”

I hug her tight and hope it will make the ache go away. But it doesn’t. It only deepens.

“How soon can I come?” Lucy asks.

There’s an unwritten bond between us. Lucy is my rock, Prudence is my fun and Georgia is my voice of reason.

Georgia hands me the most beautiful feng shui book tied with a pretty red polka dot ribbon. “You need all the good chi that you can get,” she says.

Man, she’s right. These days, I’d take all the luck I can get.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” I say, totally lying my ass off.

I’ve been waiting for this moment. I pull the envelopes out of my bag and hand them out.

“We wouldn’t miss it.” Georgia’s smile lights up the room.

“I wanted to make sure we continued our monthly girls’ night in.” A warm glow ran through me.

All three begin to squeal when they realize the gift I’ve given them.

“How did you afford this?” Lucy’s mouth dropped.

I’d already given her three months’ of rent. She didn’t want to take it, but I made her.

“My advance,” I stood there with pride since I’m usually the one that can’t afford such things.

“I’m totally in the wrong field.” Prudence laughs. “Do they need a good lawyer?”

“It’s time for me to get on the road.” I avoid my friend’s faces, and pick up my last box.

If I look at them, the water-works will start and won’t quit until I get to Cincinnati.

“We’re going to send you off without us watching you leave.” Lucy squeezes me with a big hug. “Granny said never to watch a friend leave or you’re watching them leave for good and I need you here with me.”

“There is no way I’m going to let you watch, because I am coming back with or without Granny’s advice on my side.” There have been a lot of Granny’s superstitions I’ve taken to heart. But this one is one I’m not going to question.

Reluctantly I bow my head and accept my fate. I lug myself to the elevator and hesitate before I push the down arrow. I turn to look back and all three girls quickly jump back in my apartment and shut the door. Even though they say they won’t watch, I know their hearts can’t hold them back.

The ride down the elevator makes me sick to my stomach. I feel like I left my heart on the fifty-first floor. My mind is racing a million miles a minute. Three months away from my friends, and from Bo, is going to seem like an eternity.

I look at the image staring back at me from the elevator mirror. There’s a sparkle in my eyes that I can’t explain.

I can’t help but have an eerie feeling. I begin to wonder how three months away is going change my life. I get a sneaky suspicion that the girl staring back at me may not be the same girl who will return.

“Thank you, Sam.” He is waiting by the door for me.

“I got you a coffee from Addicted to the Bean.” He hands me the cup. “We sure are going to miss your morning runs.”

“I’ll be back in no time.”

Cincinnati is my past. My home is in Chicago. My life is here. With both my parents gone, Aunt Grace is all that’s left there. I’m sure she will outlive me.

As much as I want to, I refrain from looking back when I pull out of the parking garage. I resist the urge to drive down Michigan Avenue, the Magnificent Mile. The heartbeat of the city. I’m sure it is already full of people. That isn’t going to happen in Cincinnati. It’s a conservative city.

I’m leaving an extremely hot city for the wonderful allergies that come with Cincinnati. Maybe I’ll get such bad hay fever that I’ll have to call in sick all the time and they’ll fire me.

I hold Bo’s note tight. With the top down and music going, I get comfortable for the five-hour drive.

Week Two

Beads…the ultimate stress reliever.

Author Unknown

Chapter Eleven

“Who’s there?” the voice snapped sharply.

You have got to be kidding me. My Uncle Jimmy is bent over, his butt crack showing, using a scrub brush on the concrete steps leading up to their shotgun apartment building. That’s the last sight I need to see on my first night home.

“It’s me, Hallie, Uncle Jimmy.” I yell over the traffic behind me, trying not to look at his nasty crack.

Uncle Jimmy is Aunt Grace’s lame old fourth husband who really isn’t related to me at all. He came into the picture, but was never around. He floats in and out of drunkenness.

“This damn buggy place. Bugs all over. Drunks throw up and I gotta clean it up.” He throws the brush in the stale bucket of water. “Step over me. Your Aunt Grace is upstairs.”

It makes me laugh how he always calls her “my” Aunt Grace.

The stench of the building forces me to breathe in and out of my mouth. Maybe I should’ve gone to my new apartment before I came to visit. Maybe I shouldn’t have come at all. Not only will I have to plug in my Clapper as soon as I get there, but I won’t sleep for all the night terrors I’ll have about Uncle Jimmy’s nasty crack.

They sure could fix this place up, I stand in the tattered building where I grew up. The three-story building has total of twelve apartments that Aunt Grace is responsible for.

The once vibrant red carpet that runs down the hallway is now black and bald in most spots. The gorgeous dark woodwork is now dull and nicked up. Aunt Grace’s apartment number is hanging by a thumb tack. I roll my eyes. How in the hell did I escape such a place? I pat my Prada and knock on the door.

“Aunt Grace.” I tap again, careful not to knock off the number plate.

The television is so loud that I have to knock louder and my knuckles turn red.

“What?” she screams in a cranky get-the-hell-out voice that’s all too familiar.

“It’s me Hallie, Aunt Grace.” I hear a chair squeak.

“Hold on, honey. I need to put my teeth in.” I never know what’s going to come out of Aunt Grace’s mouth. Now I have to worry about what’s going in, too.

To the chagrin of my parents, Aunt Grace told me all about the birds and the bees. Unfortunately she did it without my parents knowing, only to find out when the school principal told them she had received several parent complaints about “their daughter” telling stories at recess about an inappropriate topic. The way I figured it, we all had a right to know where we came from.

“Wow. You look great.” I pat Aunt Grace on the back trying not to hug her. I don’t want to take any unwanted bugs to my new pad.

But she doesn’t look great. She is thin and pale. Not the boisterous Italian body I’m use to.

“Let me look at you.” She holds my arms out to my side.

It is hard not to stare at the crooked black wig on top her head, showing off a little of her gray wiry hair. I’m still shocked by how frail she looks.

Her fox stole rests on her shoulder with the tail neatly tucked in the teeth of the fox’s mouth. There is more skin than fur on the pelt. I can imagine Aunt Grace sitting around in her chair petting the fox like a real pet.

“Come in. Let me fix you something to eat.” She creeps back in to her apartment.

The hot plate sitting on the TV tray next to her chair is full of dried-up pasta.

“I can turn the plate on. God knows you need to eat.” She looks over at me, shaking her head. “No Italian in you at all.”

“No, no. I just ate.” I lie, remembering all the times my parents warned me not to eat anything Aunt Grace ever offers. Little did they know she would be raising me and that I didn’t have a choice. But I have a choice now.

“Come here,” she commands, walking past her chair and moving near the empty china cabinet.

The bottom drawer flies open. I duck at the flying china plates that are being thrown at me.

“Hurry! Put those in that big bag of yours,” she said in a small frightened voice.

Crap. I frown, looking over at my purse. I shovel them in as fast as I can, trying not to look the fox in the eyes. I swear it’s staring at me letting me know something fishy is going on.

The Jefferson’s theme song plays in my head as I watch the roaches dance around. “We’re-a-movin’ on up…” Yeah! Moving up in a Prada!

“Hurry. Faster, before he comes up here.” She is quick.

I can hardly keep up with her. I’ll bet a million dollars this is the fastest she has moved in a long time.

“Who, Aunt Grace?” I question.

My handbag straps begin showing signs of strain. I swear I can hear my purse start to cry. “How could you forsake me? I have complimented so many outfits for you!”

“Jimmy. He’ll pawn everything I got if I don’t watch it. Drinking money.” Icy fear is in her eyes.

I have never seen her so serious. I know she means business.

I don’t try to convince her otherwise. Besides, how much can this china be worth? Enough for a forty-ouncer from the UDF down the street?  I don’t know what I am going to do with all of it. Carefully, I put my bag on the floor, out of fear that the dishes might break.

I look around for crawling bugs. What the hell am I thinking? I chuckle to myself. Her dirty dishes are in my purse, so why not a few cockroaches on my sandals?

“Honey, Antonio doesn’t live here.” Aunt Grace adjusts her wig leaving a few strands of her real hair straggling. “I’m glad to see you so eager. I was always afraid you were a little-you know.” She tilts her hand side to side gesturing homosexual.

Great! My Aunt Grace thinks I’m a lesbian.

“Who’s Antonio?” I ask warily.

“Duh, the nice knife salesman I want to fix you up with.” There is a sparkle in her eyes. “Good Italian family. You will make beautiful babies.”

“Stop right there.” I put my hand up in the air. “Actually, I’m going to be living here for the next three months.”

“Honey, we don’t have any room, but I could let you bunk with…”

“I have an apartment in Hyde Park,” I say, interrupting any shenanigans going on in her crazy mind.

“Huh.” She shooes a cockroach away from her hot plate. “You better watch it, little fellow, or I might cook you up.”

She continues to bat at the other cockroaches that are starting to infest the pot, not noticing that her wig has fallen off.

My old feelings of needing to escape these surroundings are creeping back into my soul.

“I’m opening a store here for work and I have three months to do it. I will be really busy, but I would like to spend some time with you.”

I stand up, ready to get the hell out of there. I am not going to explain what Gucci is. In her heyday, Aunt Grace was a wealthy sought-out woman.

But after ninety-two years of life, with four husbands, and one cockroach-infested building to her credit, she has nothing. Hardly even her mind.

“Don’t leave so soon.” Her mouth is tight and grim.

I stay longer than I anticipate. Much longer.

“Aunt Grace, you should think about moving.” I’d love to see her get out of here.

I peer out the window watching the sun going down. Her neighborhood is ranked the number one most dangerous place to live in Cincinnati. I’ve got to go and go fast.

She gives me the look she has given all the relatives before me. She points her crooked finger hard to the ground. “This is my home.”

“I’ll call you soon. Here’s my number.” I hand her a piece of paper with my number.

I want to follow it up with something like, “call me if you need anything, call in case of murder, or theft.” But I decide to let her be. I know she’ll call under any circumstance. I pick up my Prada with two hands.

We hug and I clink down the steps.

I get in my car and quickly lock the doors, then place my hands on the steering wheel and stare ahead. The lump in my throat is getting bigger by the second. My eyes tear up and I squeeze the vinyl wheel. All my surroundings are seeping with memories I’ve been trying to forget.

I remember walking up this street with the police, the sound when they knocked on Aunt Grace’s door, and her arms wrapped around me the way she did that day. I remember being scared, the same kind of scared I feel right now.

Slowly I get myself together.

“Okay, you can do this,” I tell myself, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I put the car in drive, and go north, resisting the urge to drive back to Chicago.

I do a double take in the rearview mirror at the lit up city behind me. I’ve forgotten how pretty the Cincinnati skyline is. So different from Chicago. Much tighter and smaller. The electric company spells Cincinnati with lights from the offices. They’ve gone to great lengths to build up the city and it’s definitely showing. Despite Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy, I am strangely excited, looking forward to exploring my old hometown.

I take another look in the mirror and laugh. My emotions are going from one extreme to another.

Of course Hyde Park is a great suburb just north east of the city. I never imagined myself living here. My friends and I always teased the preppy kids who grew up here. I know that now it was only envy. Because those kids were handed all the opportunities we had to work our butts off for.

I remember my father’s advice. “Find something you love and you won’t fail.” He was right. I love everything about fashion. Even though I’ve been grumbling about my three month stint back home, I know it’ll lead to bigger and better opportunities in my life. I can feel it. Now that I’m here in Hyde Park, it feels good.

The GPS guides me into the driveway of a cute stone cottage. I check the address in my package to make sure I’m at the right place.

Apartment?

This is no apartment. It’s the cutest house I’ve ever seen. The cobblestone walkway is shaded by two large oaks. The red door is framed by a trellis with the most gorgeous purple wisteria vine lapping over it.

The smell of fresh paint tangles my nose when I open the door. Dark-stained hard-wood floors continue throughout the house. An inviting gas fireplace has built-in wooden benches nestled on both sides.

The cherry red kitchen is cozy with the white washed cabinets and stainless steel appliances.

“If I must live here for three months, I guess this will do.” I slide my hand along the brown granite counter top, I laugh out loud.

Oh, yeah, this feels good.

The double French doors from the kitchen open up into the brown office with built-in bookshelves. The stairs leads to two bedrooms, each with their own bathroom. The closet size is small. Thank goodness I didn’t bring my entire wardrobe.

The small backyard is enclosed by a privacy fence, a grill and some patio furniture on the small slab of concrete.

I unload and unpack every box but one. My feng shui stuff. It’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I’ll work on my bagua and try to figure out where to put my precious Buddha.

All I can think about is how torn I am, wishing I was back in Chicago with my friends, but glad to come back to Cincinnati on my own terms.

Finally I go to bed.

Chapter Twelve

It is way too quiet to sleep. I pick up the clock and drop it back down.

Two a.m.?

I long to hear the honking cabs and ambulance sirens I’m sure are going off in the streets of Chicago at this very moment.

My skin is sticky, and my thin t-shirt is clinging to me from the damp air. Something I don’t miss about Cincinnati is the summer humidity.

My mouth is dry and with no one else around, I head downstairs for water. I have never walked around in a shirt and underwear before. For obvious reasons, one being that I lived with Lucy for like the past decade, and two, her boyfriend Beck is like a roommate now.

I float down the stairs with a little giddy up and enjoy my freedom. It is very liberating standing in my kitchen, in my house, all alone drinking a tall glass of ice cold water in only my panties and t-shirt.

I can’t help but wonder about last night. It seems so long ago. How long did Bo stay at my apartment after the party?

I go back upstairs and read his note—again. It is scribbled, not a take your time love note.

Hallie,

Please give me a call as soon as you get settled in Cincinnati.  It’s really important that I talk to you.

Bo

What on God’s earth did he have to talk to me about or tell me?  I rack my brain for reasons and reach for my cell phone, but the clock stops me. How can I call Bo in the middle of the night? I always complain about Aunt Grace’s phone calls and now I’ve almost done the same thing.

I take a closer look at his scribble.

Maybe I should take it to one of those hand writing analysis people. I know they will say something like, “the way he dotted the ‘I’ in Hallie shows he’s really in love with you.”

I laugh at the idea, but stop. What if I do take it to a handwriting analyst? My spirits lift and I run my finger slightly over his name. Bo.  I already miss running behind him. I dreamily fall asleep, visualizing the back of his head.

I haven’t sleep this good in years. I stretch my arms, ready to stick to my commitment—the marathon.

Jogging in Hyde Park Square more distracting than the city. There are many more boutiques, restaurants and bars than I remembered. I spend more time window-shopping than jogging.

I throw my hands in the air when my mouth begins to water at the Café Beginnings Coffee Shop sign. It is just around the corner from the house, which is dangerous.

“You new to the area?” the barista asks when I walked in.

“Not really. Well sort of.” I hesitate, torn by conflicting emotions.

I know if I’m confused, she’s confused. She flings her straight brown hair out of the way of her glasses. I wonder if she is trying to figure out if I’m a nut off the street or just nuts.

“I’m from the west side.” I make my cute little gangster “west side” gesture which doesn’t get a smile out of her.

“But moved to Chicago after college. Now I’m back here for three months. For work.”

“Okay, welcome back.” She put her hand over top the counter for me to shake. “Addy, barista and fellow transplant. I knew I hadn’t seen you before. Everyone stops in to get a cup or just say hi. As we say here at Café Beginnings: Here's a cup that honors the hands of a farmer, the craft of an artisan roaster, and the distinguished tastes of our patrons. We welcome you to Café Beginnings. As you sit, sip, and savor, or grab, go, and guzzle, our wish is that you too enjoy your part of the story.”

Damn! Even if the coffee isn’t good, her speech sure sold me on coming back.

She finds out every single detail about me in minutes, it seems to be her gift. I can’t tell you one thing about her. She introduces me to every single person that walks through her door. “This is Hallie from Chicago.” She emphasizes the a in Chicago.

Not only is the coffee good, the atmosphere is awesome. The green clap board house beckons you to sip coffee from the front porch as you watch the pedestrians stroll by.  Patrons sit on the deck or out on the patios discussing their plans for the day. Another couple is catching up on the week’s activities while some read the paper or simply enjoy their coffee.

I want to explore more of Hyde Park. As a teenager, you couldn’t have paid me to go in Hyde Park Square. Now I’m excited about living, however temporarily,  less than a mile away.

The square is busy with the shop owners putting out their wares out on the outside in front of their stores. The doors are open and inviting. Everyone says good morning as I pass. This is something you don’t see in Chicago.

I can’t believe this is something I miss about living here. I was so busy trying to get on with my life when I moved to Chicago, I didn’t even pay attention until now.

Trees in full bloom line both sides of the square’s center and frame the wood park benches. The fountain gurgles with water spewing from a stone panther’s mouths.

I pop my head in the open door of One Bead at a Time.  A group of women sit at a table and scour through all sorts of designs and colors to make the perfect bracelet, necklace or ear rings.

I catch myself smiling as I watch the four friends—obviously friends, and overhear their conversation.

“How does this one look?” A blonde asks one of the others about the beads she picked out.

“Oh I love it,” her friend said, “But you know,” she adds, as she hands over a different bead, “this one will really make it stand out.”

The others nod their head in agreement.

It makes me long for my friends. The simple pleasure of just being around them is something I will not take for granted again.

I run my finger down the beading class schedule hanging on the open door. My interest is flying. I’ve spent a ton of money buying beaded jewelry.  Why not try to make my own? My girls are five hours away. I’ll have plenty of down time at night. I make a mental note on the class times to see if any of them fit into my work schedule.

But as I make my way back to my new home, I wonder what my friend’s are doing in Chicago, without me.

Prudence is probably working at home in her office, stopping briefly to take in Lake Michigan and watch the sail boats going out for the day.

I check my watch. It’s about time for Georgia and Lucy to meet at Moksha Yoga. And Georgia is probably taking a walk the Lincoln Park, before heading to baby in the belly appointment.

I long to be next to Lucy, lounging on the terrace watching television and relaxing the day away.

And me? Looks like I’m going to take up beading.

I toss my cup in the trash can outside the Hyde Bark, the cutest pet store I’ve ever seen, and could make almost anyone want to get a pet. But I won’t. I have a hard enough time taking care of myself and I don’t like wiping my ass, much less a furry one.

I shrug away the thought of a dog and remember my bagua awaits me. I jog back, trying not to think about my friends, or pets, or the fact that I’m alone.

The last box is calling me when I walk into the door.

“All right, Buddha. Hold on,” I say as I get my compass and lay down, with my feet almost touching the front door.

I need to feel the energy of the house to check my chi.

Arms stretched way out to my side, eyes close tighter with every breath. I begin to feel the coziness of the house.  I even think about stripping down to my birthday suit to feel liberated like I had last night.

But my eyes bolt open when I hear a door slam.

“Hi, there.” Suddenly a man is standing over me with the goofiest-ass grin.

“Get back!” I scramble to my feet, with fear knotted inside me. “I know karate.” I do my best Ralph Macchio pose. That pose is the only karate I know.  But I know I can hit him in the balls and take off running.

“Yes Daniel-son,” the stranger says in Mr. Miyagi’s voice, bowing down. “I come in peace. I’m Wilson, and you?”

“Get out! I’m going to call the police.” I stand with my fists clinched in the air, panic welled in my throat.

“Hi, Mr. Buddha?” Wilson bends down and picks up my Buddha, pretending to talk to him. “Checking out the bagua?”

He tilts the Buddha back and forth as if in agreement.

“How do you know? Were you listening to me?” Stepping forward, I snatch my Buddha out of his greedy hands. The Buddha is heavy so I can use him as a weapon. “Who are you?”

I pat my pockets for my cell phone. The only problem, I don’t know my own address to give to the 911 operator.

“I heard someone up here talking and I wanted to introduce myself since we’ll be running into each other. Especially late night refrigerator raiding.” He pats his belly.

“I’m really going to call the police.” I yell after he goes into the pantry and shuts the door.

I’m tired of screwing around with this lunatic.

“Where do you think you are going?” I don’t hesitate to go after him. e

With Buddha pointed over my head and ready to throw, I carefully open the door, fully expecting him to jump out and scare me. I only find stairs. Not a pantry. A basement.

I walk down the stairs trying to ignore the theme song from Nightmare on Elm Street that’s playing in my head.

I want to make sure Wilson leaves the same way he came in. He may be harmless, but you just can’t walk into someone’s house without being invited.

There he sits, on a black leather couch enjoying a steaming cup of coffee.

“Now you decide to come down and say hi.” His glasses fogged with steam. “Let’s start over. Hi, I’m Wilson and I live in this apartment which is down stairs from your apartment. I am assuming that your fancy employer didn’t tell you that it was an apartment.”

“No, they did.” I can feel the red creep up my face with embarrassment. “I just thought it was a mistake. I thought the basement door was a pantry.”

“Didn’t the refrigerator and pantry full of food give it away?” He walks over to the coffee pot. “Would you like a cup?” he asks.

“Yes, please.” Apartment?  I’m trying to wrap my head around what’s happening. “I, I’m, um, sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay. I was going to say hello last night, but I didn’t think you were dressed properly for the occasion.” He smiles.

Oh, my God! I’m not shocked by his beautiful white teeth, I’m shocked because he saw me in my panties and t-shirt when I went down to get a drink of water. I cross my arms over myself, trying to hide what he saw last night.

“So you were spying on me?” I have to wonder.

“I was going to come and introduce myself to clothes-wearing Hallie, not t-shirt Hallie. Though I might like t-shirt Hallie better.” He laughs handing me the cup. “Sugar or cream?”

I pick up the creamer and avoid eye contact. With sarcasm dripping in my voice, I say, “You’re a funny guy. We might just have a lot of fun for the next three months.”

“Who might have fun, clothed or unclothed Hallie? If you’re asking me, I think I will try out unclothed Hallie first.” He held his coffee cup up to toast me. I oblige.

“First off, the place was so hot, I could’ve fried an egg on the radiator and I couldn’t find the thermostat. Why were you up so late? Don’t tell me you’re some perv.” I stand at the edge of the steps ready to bolt.

“I was coming home from work and I heard the faucet turn on.” He pretends to twirl the edges of a fake mustache. “Watch it or I could mess with your bagua.”

Wilson is not like any other man I’ve met. He’s direct, and I like that about him.

“Okay joker. Show me around since you know my place like the back of your hand.” He obviously knows what a bagua is.

“This is my office.” He points to the coffee table. “That’s my bedroom and bath.” He points to the only door off the room. “Last on the big tour, my dining room.” He nods towards the bar with four black bar chairs. It’s not big, but it’s perfect for one person.

I notice the Persian rugs, and I feel a twinge of envy. His apartment is nice, especially for a guy.

“So where do you work?” He must have a pretty good job to afford some of these luxuries. “Procter and Gamble downtown.”

I should’ve guessed. Half of Cincinnati works there.

“Cool. I work at the Gucci boutique in Saks.”

“Oh, la-la.” He flashes his irresistible devastating grin.

He certainly doesn’t look like an executive in his Ohio State pajama pants. The hint of ginger in his blonde crew-cut, stands out against his tan skin.

“Again, Wilson, I am sorry for freaking out on you. I have to say you’re lucky I didn’t go all Karate Kid on you.” I demonstrate my best karate chop in the air. “See you later?”

“Absolutely,” he says. “Bring my mug back when you’re finished.”

This isn’t going to be so bad, I smile. Wilson’s sense of humor really isn’t my type, but he is definitely someone I can see myself hanging out with having a few beers.

The rest of the afternoon I tiptoe around so Wilson won’t hear me. With each box I unpack, I’m finding myself getting into a funk.  It takes all the energy I have to finish unpacking all the boxes. I’m so mentally exhausted. I close my eyes, just to take a break.

Chapter Thirteen

Shit! The ringing phone makes me jump from the perfect slumber. For a brief moment I’d forgotten I’m back in Cincinnati.

“Hello, Aunt Grace.” I try to wrap my head around my surroundings.

“I swear you are psychic just like your mom,” she says.

“No, Aunt Grace. Caller ID.” I don’t know how many more times I‘ll have to say that before she gets it. Furthermore, my mother wasn’t close to being psychic, and I don’t know why Aunt Grace says that.

“You need to come right away.” She sounds suddenly desperate.

I look at my watch. “It’s six p.m.”

I’d rather have my eyelids turned inside out and propped open with toothpicks before I drive to her neighborhood just before darkness closes in. My heart is heavy once I realize where I am.

“Toto, I don’t think we are in Kansas anymore.” I frown looking out the window next to the bed.

“What? Who’s Toto?” she asks.

“No one.” The words fall meekly out of my mouth.

The first phase of dread, loneliness and depression sets in. I knew it was inevitable. My Hyde Park high seems to have deflated like a soufflé.

“I need you. You know I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.” She pleads.

“Why do I need to come right now?” I ask and continue, “What’s so important?”

“I can’t talk about it over the phone. Can’t you please come?” She is convincing.

I reach for my running shoes and put them on. There is no reason to push for more information because I know I won’t win.

Wilson is outside watering the front lawn. “Where are you going in such a hurry?” His eyes peek over his sunglasses.

“Getting toothpicks,” I shout, then stop and turn around. “You have any toothpicks?”

He pats his pockets. “Nah, fresh out.” He continues watering the wisteria vine with a questioning look on his face.

I flash him a smile, and jump in my car—only to zoom back to the other side of the tracks.

A haze looms over the city.  That’s one thing this city hasn’t cleaned up. My eyes water and my nose itches. The valley of allergies is what everyone calls the Ohio valley. I fell prey to it when I was younger and now.

I say a little prayer of gratitude for Daylight Saving Time. I have at least an hour before dark.

Uncle Jimmy is sitting on the stoop watching the traffic go by. “Hi, Uncle Jimmy.” I smile looking for a nod, or a wave, or something to show life.

He doesn’t look up. His gray thinning greasy hair is plastered to his head. With a hint of annoyance, he asks, “You gonna be stopping by all the time since you live here?”

“Lucky you. You never know which way the wind might blow me.”

I want to tell him to shave his ass, but I don’t think he would like that. Besides, Uncle Jimmy never fit in with us Italians, as he puts a stress on the I. He always rolled his eyes at our big family functions. Italians love their families.

We had to ignore his comments out of respect for Aunt Grace. She was good at reminding us. “Now, now, Jimmy doesn’t know any better,” she’d say. “He’s an orphan.”

“Umph.” Is all he can muster up? Never once can I recall a time when he was even a bit positive.

I burst through the door.  “Aunt Grace?”  I find her in the bedroom.  She’s there, wearing a long curly red wig.

“Hi, Aunt Grace.” I hid my laughter, looking at her real hair matted down the side of her face.

“Like it?” She twirls her fake hair around her finger.

“Feisty.” I smile because she looks like one of the hookers who work on this side of town. For all I know, she stole it off one of them.

“Good. Because that’s the way I am feeling.” She is preoccupied, staring out the window. She sits like a bird perched on the window-sill. “I guess you’re wondering why I wanted you to come over.”

I look around the room. There doesn’t seem to be any emergency. The apartment is not on fire and the cockroaches are still running around. Everything is in order.

“Antonio is going to be in the area selling those knife sets.”

I slump to the bed. She’s back to playing match-maker.

“I want to invite you two over for tea.” Her gentle demeanor suddenly turns tyrannical as she sees something outside the window. Her foot catches the edge of the chair as she jumps up, sending it to the floor.

I look out the window but the only thing I see is a happy whistling woman walking her cute poodle. Uncle Jimmy leans over to pet the sweet little dog. The dog obviously knows Uncle Jimmy by the wagging of his tail.

I always heard a dog’s heart is connected to his tail. This dog’s heart must be very happy by the looks of his tail-wagging.

“Aww, look at the cute dog.” My smile faces just as Aunt Grace shoves me out of the way of the window.

I fall down to the ground, catching myself but sacrificing the lives of two cockroaches under my right hand.

I get up just in time to watch Aunt Grace grab a brick from the pile stacked up next to the window. “I’ll teach that bitch for whistling at my husband.” Her arm is like an automatic machine gun whirling those bricks onto the street, but fortunately missing her target.

“Grace!” Uncle Jimmy screams, shielding the whistling woman from the bricks. “Stop that now!”

He ducks just in time before the latest brick zips past his head breaking and shatters against the pavement.

“That’s right.” Aunt Grace cries out to the woman who’s now on the run. “You better get out of here. And stop flirting with my husband.”

I’m paralyzed with fear. What the hell have I just witnessed?

“Damn you, Grace!” Uncle Jimmy calls up as he watches the lady run as fast as she could.

Aunt Grace doubles over in laughter. She is so proud of herself.

“Poor dog.” She points out the window still laughing. “Look! She’s running so fast, that dog is choking.”

Pure satisfaction illuminates her face. “Now, back to tea.”

“Aunt Grace, what just happened?”  I don’t know whether to get the hell out of here before the police come or call them myself.

“That slut has been after your Uncle Jimmy for weeks,” Aunt Grace explains. “She thinks she’s something walking that little dog and whistling while Jimmy waits for her to pass. She’s enticing my man. She needs her own man.”

She walks back to the window. I stand behind her looking at the woman Aunt Grace refers to as a “slut.”

“I showed her whose prince he is.” She slams the window shut.

The woman looks perfectly normal to me, in her black jumpsuit and tennis shoes pounding pavement down the street.

Stunned, I watch Aunt Grace.  I don’t know what she sees in my uncle. Uncle Jimmy is no prince. Maybe a jester, but certainly not royalty.  But then again, I guess maybe he’s her Bo.

And did this moment constitute an emergency?

Chapter Fourteen

Before work I stroll downtown to Fountain Square, and am pleasantly surprised how at much it’s changed. The square has been redone with a big screen television, like the one in New York’s Times Square, along with several new stores and restaurants.

Many of the restaurants offer outdoor café tables around the fountain. Each table’s umbrella has the restaurant name on it.

Today happens to be a Cincinnati Reds businessman’s special. A ton of men are eating and drinking, getting ready for the big game against the Chicago Cubs, of all teams.

I wonder if Wilson is here since his work is down the street.

The square is more alive than I’ve ever seen it.

Saks is ready to embrace another designer. Gucci will sell well, especially with the re-invention of downtown.

The boutique is further along than I’d anticipated. When you enter Saks off Fifth Street, the boutique is just to the left. The bronze front with Gucci written in tan lettering sends chills up my spine it is so beautiful.

The construction crew will finish in a few days. Shirts, pants, skirts, shoes and accessories are already on display and the associates are ready to make their commissions.

I feel strange walking into a room in which all eyes are on me. Especially since the smiling faces are quivering with fear and the heads are twirling with gossip about “the new head honcho.”

“Okay. You obviously know who I am, so let’s get to who you are.” I hear the words come out of my mouth, but am thinking: How did I get here?

We spend the next thirty minutes introducing ourselves and getting to know each other.

One of the new steamer associates catches me before I go into my office.

“Hallie?” There is a slight tremble in her voice. She rubs her hand down her short styled, Posh Spice look.

I admire her for wearing suck a cut. Not many people can pull it off, but she does it well.

“Yes, uh…” I turn around before I get into my office, where my much-needed cup of coffee is waiting for me.

“Beatrice,” she says, maintaining eye contact. “This lady named Piper called. She’s called twice today, asking all sorts of questions about your schedule this week.”

“Go on, I’m listening.” I want to dissect every one of her words, but damn, her eye contact is good.

“I told her I’m your secretary and would give you her message.” Her eyes grow dark, like she knows exactly what I’m thinking. “She wants to know your schedule and what’s shipping here.”

“Secretary?” I stand up and begin pacing while rubbing my chin. I like the way this girl thinks. Piper never had a secretary. “Secretary? I like that.”

“She said the same thing.”

“Hold on.”

I dial the New York office.

“Yes this is…” I continue my conversation, telling human resources about my new proposal.

I want a secretary, who I want and why I need her. With a little persuasion, they are on board. It couldn’t have gone any better if I had a genie lamp and rubbed the heck out of it.

The associate sits with a smirk on her face. She knows I put my neck on the line for her and me.

“Congratulations.” I smile. “You are my new secretary.” We stare each other down. She is good at this eye-to-eye contact business. “That’s what I’m talking about. You can do this. Stick with me, girl, and you will be running this place in no time.”

She impetuously darts out the door.

“Wait!” She stops dead in her tracks. “What is your name again? I can’t just call you secretary.”

“Beatrice,” she repeats in an upbeat voice.

“Great, Beatrice. You like coffee?” God, I hope she likes coffee.

“Yes I do.” Her words met my sigh of relief.

“Run across the street and grab us a cup. On me.” I wink and grab my wallet out of my purse.

I’m going to work my butt off to one up on Piper and the Michigan store. I’m sure she’s only trying to get information to use it against me or to see what she’s up against.

I can promise that, this store is going to surpass everyone’s expectations. I’ll be sure of it.

Week Three

Beads, the creative addiction.

Author Unknown

Chapter Fifteen

With the boutique opening, time to myself has been scarce. Since it’s my first Sunday off, I want to hang around and take it easy. And accepting a call from Piper is far from taking it easy.

“Hello?” I decide to take the call because I can’t avoid her forever. I try to sound as upbeat as I can all while I make a nasty face at the phone.

Besides, it won’t be so bad, not with the great opening week we had.

“You are one tough gal to get in touch with.” I can picture Piper sitting in my chair behind my desk getting ready for the tourists to rush down Michigan Avenue. A big difference between Cincinnati and Chicago. Chicago is for the tourists, while Cincinnati is more local traffic.

“How can I help you on my Sunday off?” I cut to the chase.

The laughter in the background catches me off guard. She only called to be nosy. I listen closely to see if I can hear one of my co-workers from the Chicago store, but only laughter—male laughter.

Piper’s voice is muffled, and I faintly hear her whisper, “one more minute.”

“Sorry about that.” There is little sympathy in her apology.

Why is she apologizing? Is she feeling guilty for shipping me off or taking Bo when my back is turned?

“I have been calling you all week to wish you good luck on the opening. But I can’t get past the receptionist. Corporate told me you had a fantabulous week.”

“Secretary, My secretary.” I want to make sure I correct her so she realizes I have my own personal assistant. “Yes, I’ve had a wonderful week.”

Then she launches into her made-up language.

Whoever came up with the idea of turning their poodle/schnauzer mutt into a made-up name like schnoodle because their poodle is a slut and got knocked up by a schnauzer is brilliant! Any cross-breed is a mutt, no matter how you spin it, but if you label it with designer…, badda bing! You’ve got yourself a gold mine.

Just like Piper. She puts words together and makes up her own language with words like fantabulous, ginormous, groceraunt, spanglish. Pipernomics has to be the best. She claims it’s her ideas on the current economic status of the country. What the hell?

“It was a good week.” I try to sound even more joyful and to ignore the giggles and kisses coming from her end of the phone.

“How is Cincinnati treating you?” She asks, snidely.

“It’s fine.” The less information I give her, the better off I am.

“Have you met some new friends?” she questions.

Ah, no! The ones I have now are fine. I wish I had the guts to tell her I’m not in the market for new friends.

“Work is keeping me busy. Speaking of work, I have to get back to the grind.” I’m not going to have everyday conversation like she’s my friend. She’s only trying to gather ammunition against me and I don’t even know why.

“Adios, Hallie. Have a good one.” She laughs. “A little Spanglish for you.”

I listen closely for more noise before the final click, nothing. I never figured Bo to like the Piper type. All prim and proper, not to mention giggly. Not a hair out of place. She doesn’t even care about running. She always put me down for it and now he’s off with her.

To help forget about Piper and her phone call, I lace up my shoes and head to the square.

Earlier, I read in the paper where The Running Store, in Hyde Park, is having a sale. I might as well run down there and check it out.

I tuck a few dollars in my running shorts just in case I decide to look there or elsewhere. If I’m going to run, I have to take care of my barking dogs.

When I joined my running group in Chicago, I spent an entire paycheck on running equipment. The sales lady told me she’d never seen someone bring in an entourage of friends to make sure the shorts look great. But it’s a facade I have to keep up until Bo marries me and we have our first baby. Then I’ll stop running and take care of his offspring.

Maybe I’m getting a little ahead of myself. Though I can’t help but wonder what he’d think of Cincinnati.

With the image of my holding Bo’s baby in my arms, I fail to see the One Bead At A Time door flew open, whacking me back into reality.

“Oh!” The woman at the door tries to catch me as I stagger around. “Are you okay? I am so sorry!”

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” My heart is racing a mile a minute.

I can just see it now. If the door hit me a fraction harder, I would’ve been out cold in a hospital room with no one at my side except Aunt Grace in one of her goofy wigs.

Bending over with my hands resting on my hips, I reassure the woman, who looks like she’s in cardiac arrest.

“Please come in and sit down.” She gestures towards the bead store. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

That’s the least you can do, I thought. Although, it was actually my fault for running so close to the stores. “Really, I’m fine.”

I look around her, noting the woman inside picking out beads.

“Deidra.” She sticks her hand out.

She can’t be any older than me. Her hair is as black as mine, cut in an angle bob with blunt bangs across the front. “Dee for short. I feel so bad.”

I touch the bump on my heads that’s growing by the minute. “No big deal. I’ll be fine.”

She moves my hand away, just like my mother would’ve done to check out the bump. “We open early one Sunday a month, and hardly ever see anyone then,” she explains.

I shake her hand, taking a closer look at her hair and wonder if that’s what my hair would look like if I got it cut.

“Come on in and join us,” Dee offers.

One lady at the table looks up but continues stringing. I walk in and look at the bracelet she’s designing, realizing that I’d much rather join them than keep jogging.

“Have you ever made a bracelet?” She holds it up, letting me touch it as it dangles in the air.

“No, I haven’t,” I admit. The Swarovski crystals glisten in the natural light. “Very nice,” I admire the shimmering stones and another cool design on the gray board.

“Want to try?” Dee offers, again.

“I don’t think so.” I start to laugh, and immediately notice her defense shield go up. “I mean, I don’t have a single creative bone in my body. I’d embarrass your store.”

“Don’t be silly.” Dee walks me around her store, showing me the different levels of beading customers.

“Thanks for your vote of confidence, but I think I’ll pass today.” I leave the door open for another day, maybe.

“Come sit down.” Dee pulls out a chair as if she didn’t hear me.

She’s relentless. No wonder her store is packed when I run by. And I find myself obeying.

“See, you pick out the beads and lay them on your bead board.” Dee points to the gray board in front of me. “I like to put a space between my beads so the wire bends better when you wear it.” She points to the silver beads. “All you do is pick out a clasp. Or toggle.” She shows me a different clasp with a circle and bar.

I follow her directions on how to crimp one end of the clasp and start designing my own bracelet. The running shop sale has now become a faint memory.

I can’t believe all the different beads to choose from. One wall is full of bins that house different glass beads while the opposite wall is full of silver beads with different designs. Beads hang down from the wall on ropes. Each bead is priced differently and comes from different parts of the world. I pick up a tiny bottle.

“Those are seed beads.” Dee approaches me with an amused look on her face. “I suggest starting with something a little bigger. Those will take you forever to string.”

She’s right; I can’t imagine trying to hold one of those beads and stringing it one at time. I scan down the bins and notice that the holes get a little bigger with each bead. The cat-eye beads are amazing. The white swirls around each bead, giving them an almost iridescent effect.

“Those look awesome with end caps on them.” Dee shows me a couple different silver findings that fit on each side of the bead like a little frame.

Dee moves on, picks up a few tie-dyed looking beads in all different shapes. “Those are chevron beads. They make pretty cool necklaces.”

The assortment is overwhelming.

“How about making one for yourself?” Dee puts an empty bead board, next to the group of other beaders.

Surely, I can string a few beads, and save the fancier designs for alter. I’ll worry about being creative next time.

“I’ll stick to the dynamics and then I may try to be a bit more creative,” I tell her.

The group of older women greet me by telling me how beading is good for their arthritis. I like them, and I like it.

“I want to make four bracelets. One for each of my three best friends.” I look at the bracelet I just finished with a little more confidence.

“I think that’s a great idea.” Dee unravels some wire from a spool. “We have a girlfriend night where you can come with your friends, bead, eat and drink wine.”

I explain my situation and how I am living here alone. I let her know I won’t be staying longer than my twelve weeks, if I make it that long.

The bracelets will be a great way to end our spa trip.

“I want something fun and unique.” I concentrate on all the different-colored glass beads.

“Why don’t we start with something very simple, so you can get the hang of it.” Dee takes the glass beads I had selected and puts them on the bead tray along with the sterling silver balls. “If you lay them out before you string them, it makes things so much easier.”

I watch as she creates a pattern.

With a small bit of confidence, I pick up the wire and repeat, “Glass, silver, glass, silver.” After a couple, I can start to see the beginnings of an actual bracelet.

I smile.

By the second bracelet, I’m getting the hang of it and requiring less of Dee’s time except, for the final crimp. Otherwise, with my luck, I might make the bracelets way too big or too small.

“Great job.” Dee inspects both bracelets, and she notices the extra spacers I used on the second one. “Awww, nice touch. You’re a pro already. Most beaders aren’t so bold until the fourth or fifth time they come here.”

“Just my creative side,” I say, surprising myself, and dangle my creations into the light, one by one.

Each bracelet is alike, with the exception of one bead. I put a different bead on each one that reminded me of each of them.

I haven’t made anything since the third grade when I crocheted my mom a book-mark that turned out to be strings barely sewn together. God love her, she used that book mark with pride, lame as it was.

The girls will be surprised that I made these with my own two hands when generally my own two hands are doing nothing more challenging than dipping down for my credit card. I can’t wait to see their faces!

“You’ll have to visit a lapidary in Chicago.” Dee looks at me smiling.

Okay the jokes on me. What in the hell is a lapii…

“Excuse me?” I ask, pretending not to hear her. I can’t say the word, much less know what it means.

“Lapidary,” she repeats.

I play along, saying lapidary over and over in my head, so I can Google it when I get home.

“You know, a bead store,” she confirms.

“Oh, you said lapidary.” I fake-laugh, trying to play it off. Bead store, duh! “I don’t know of any. I’ll have to check it out.”

“You are a natural beader.” She is admiring the bracelets. “Usually people are shy and timid their first time. But you, you came shooting right out of the gate and got four completed. And the design is beautiful.”

Aunt Grace’s phone numbers flashes on my screen.

“Sorry, Dee,” I say. “Hold that thought.”

“Hello, Aunt Grace.” I cradle the phone in between my ear and my shoulder while admiring my creations.

“I swear you are psychic just like your mother.” Her voice is low and soft.

“Caller ID.” I put down the bracelets and hold the phone closer to my ear.

“Are you down here?” She questions me like she used to when I was a teenager.

“Here where?”

“Where do you think, Hawaii? Downtown, of course.” There is a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Much better. She sounds like my aunt I love. Her health is weighing heavy on my mind.

“No, I’m at a store in Hyde Park. Why?”

“I want you to come visit,” she says.

Visit? But I want to bead.

“It is my only day off and I wasn’t planning on venturing downtown today.” I don’t want to fight the cockroaches, nor spend the drive itching all the way home and having to shower again.

“We only have nine more weeks, Hallie. You never know, I could be dead by then. I’ve only seen you three times.”

Who the hell is she kidding? Not only has she outlived all her siblings, she’s outlived most of her nieces and nephews, plus a few great nieces and nephews. Heart disease has taken most, in our family, but living past seventy-one is pushing it.

“Just because I’m going home in nine weeks doesn’t mean I won’t visit again.” I refuse to give into guilt and regret. The beaders around me are all ears.

But of course I give into the guilt. That is the one good thing my family is so darn good at.

“Dee, I must be going.” I gather my belongings.

For the first time since moving back, I’m enjoying myself.

“Oh, okay.” There is twinge of disappointment in her voice. “I know this sounds really strange, but I really like the designs you made. I think a lot of my clients would love your fresh young bracelets. Are you interested in making a few for the store?”

She touches my wrist, looking at my bracelets one more time.

She wants me. Me? Me to make bracelets and sell them here!

“I…I don’t know what to say.” My cheeks flush from the flattery. “I have never made anything in my life.”

“Of course, I’d pay you.” She points to the display case with other bracelets for sale.

“I would be honored.” Why not? I can make bracelets since I have nothing else to do with my downtime.

“Great. You can make them for about five dollars a bracelet and sell them for about twenty dollars. You’d get ten dollars for each bracelet sold.”

I do the math. I made four bracelets today, and that took about three hours. That included learning how to do them. Plus the conversation with Dee and the other beaders is enjoyable.

I don’t care about the money. It’s the activity itself that makes me feel good. Isn’t that what those endorphins are supposed to do?

“Deal.”

We shake on it.

I know it’s a quick decision and I’m new at this, but I’ve got a really good feeling.

“Great. Take some beads, wire, toggles, clasps and get started. What you don’t use, bring back. If you need more, come get them during store hours. You need to make business cards to attach to them.” Dee helps me gather all my materials and even throws in a bead board, crimpers, and pliers. All I need to get started.

My mind is racing, trying to come up with different names. The pressure of a name. The scene from Pretty Woman comes to mind, the one in which Julia Roberts’ character is next to the pool talking to  Laura San Giacomo’s character.

Still no name. I’m going to sleep on it.

Chapter Sixteen

Why does the city feel so much hotter than the suburbs? I pat the sweat from my brow while looking for a safe place to park near Aunt Grace’s building.

The kids playing in the water, shooting out from the fire hydrant, bring back memories of me running around the same spouting hydrant years ago.

“Hey, Uncle Jimmy.”

“What?” he yelps. “What?” He’s sitting in the spot as always with a Cincinnati Reds baseball cap pulled way down, covering his eyes. “Your aunt is upstairs. Crazy old broad.”

“Now, now, Uncle Jimmy. That’s no way to talk about your bride.” There’s no way I’m going to fight with crazy.

“Bride my ass.” He still won’t look at me. “She’s always on me about having a little nip here and there.”

A little nip, right. He reeks of alcohol and I’m standing three feet away.

“Nothing wrong with a nip, as long as it’s a nip.” I laugh and climb up the stairs behind him.

The lingering heat compounds the stagnant smell of urine, vomit, and bugs. It’s just dirty here. Many times, members of my family had tried to get Aunt Grace out of here and move her to the suburbs. She’s always refused. Now that burden is all on me.

“Aunt Grace?” I push open her slightly open door and launch into my speech. “You really should think about moving. All the kids running around, you probably never get any peace and quiet.”

The hot plate is sizzling, the television is blaring. Aunt Grace is under her bed.

“Here.” She hands me a dingy yellow bag, and motions me towards the door.  “Now get out of here.”

She didn’t want me to visit. She wants to get everything worth anything out of her house. Her idea of rehab for Uncle Jimmy, who will apparently steal what he can’t pawn.

Like a good girl, I do as I’m told.

“That was quick.” Uncle Jimmy said, ducking when I jumped over him.

“Yep, bye.” I secured the bag under my arm.

I don’t peek in the bag until halfway home, in fear of letting out any unwanted bugs. But curiosity has gotten the better of me.

I reach over and take out the shiny object sticking out of the bag. Silverware?

There is some carving on the handle.

What in the world am I going to do with tarnished silver ware? The deeper I dig, I pull out more silver with carved handles. They all have different scenes carved on them, and is actually pretty.

I put the bag on the back porch, when I get home, and start sorting the silver. It is the most beautiful matching set of six forks and six knives, all with carved ivory-figure handles. All the carvings are of children dressed in Victorian garb. I run my finger over the fork I’m holding, wondering about its history. Wondering if these were Aunt Grace’s as a child, or if they’re worth any money. And why she’s passing on her treasures to me. Is Aunt Grace the psychic one? Does she think her days are numbered?

I repack everything in a grocery bag and throw Aunt Grace’s in the garbage.

I don’t care if it’s worth zilch. It’s Aunt Grace’s treasure, and it’s worth something to me.

It joins the china, in the back of my car, just in case.

Chapter Seventeen

The more I look at my bracelets, the desire builds to design and make more. I must’ve dreamed about more designs. I woke up with my creative juices flowing. It’s a feeling I can’t describe. I dance around the room and the images keep coming. I stop to jot down a few notes so I won’t forget.

Visions of greens, pinks, yellows, swirls, and glass sparkling, consumes me. as I slide them on the wire. It may sound strange, but I want to have a purpose in this world. And if I can make one person happy by receiving one of my bracelets as a gift, it makes me happy.

I lace up my tennis shoes, and put all my extra energy into jogging through Hyde Park before work. If by chance, Dee is at One Bead At A Time, I might have to stop.

The rain can’t dampen the twinkling beads through the window.

My soul awakens. I feel alive!

The person looking at me, in the glass window, is not the same girl who walked in this door yesterday. Just like a curve ball, it hits me. I’ve never been as passionate about doing something other than fashion design.

I used to cut out clothes from magazines and paste them together, all the way down to the accessories. I’d wake up in the middle of the night with a new outfit in mind. Now I’m waking up, thinking about beads.

“What are you doing?” Dee has a vested interest in why I’m standing in the rain, pressing my hands and nose up against her store widow. She motions for me to come in. “It’s pouring rain.”

“I was jogging.” I don’t tell her I’ve been bit by the beading bug. “And I stopped to look at the window display.”

“Jogging, in the rain?” She hands me a towel from behind the counter. “You’re soaked. I’ve heard about you die hard runners.”

“A good stress reliever.” I run the towel down my ponytail, and come clean. “I loved making the bracelets. I have a few other designs in my head and I want to get a couple different beads to see if they work.”

“So that’s why you’re really here.” She laughs. “It happens to the best of us.”

I’m a little embarrassed, though I don’t know why.

“Good,” she says, and puts a few shipping boxes on the glass counter. “That’s the drive you need to make the bracelets. Plus your excitement adds to your creative flow.”

If only she knew how much creative flow is going through me, she might call off our deal out of fear. Fear of my obsession.

I sort through some of the chez glass beads. Designs start popping in my head one after the other, and I sketch them on a piece of paper. I take my time so I won’t forget any of the  details.

“Hallie?” Dee leans over the counter, checking out my notes. “Did you just come up with those designs?”

I smile, embarrassed.  “They’re just ideas.”

“They’re beautiful!”  She sets a steaming cup of coffee in front of me.  “I keep a coffee maker in the back.”

I look at my watch knowing I have to go to work. I’d much rather stay here. “Only one cup,” I say as I close my eyes and let the joy of caffeine take over.

I’ve only known Dee for twelve hours, but this is the first cup of coffee I’ve had with someone I consider a girlfriend since I left Cincinnati.

She takes an X-acto knife out of the drawer and starts to open boxes. “It’s nice to share a cup of coffee in the morning.”

“I come in this early every Wednesday because I get my shipments on Tuesday night.” She digs through the box, paying no attention to me ogling all the merchandise. Her eyes
light up when she shows me a tiny zip lock with beads.

“Oh, look! I’ve been waiting three months for these.” Her eyes pop open.

She inspects each bead and I want to inspect them, too. She comments on how different one is from the other. I begin to see it too.

“Lampwork beads. Aren’t they gorgeous?” She digs deeper in the box, the crease between her brow deepens. She frowns. “Only one? Not enough to put out. I guess I’ll have to wait and see if I get more next week.”

“Only ten beads?” I count them, as she puts them back in the bag. My mouth begins to water at the mere idea of a design involving those beads.

“Yes.” She carefully puts them back in the tiny bag. “I pay ten dollars for ten. Very expensive, but I can get double that.”

No shit! More designs pop in my head. All sorts of different ways to make one of the beads the focal point in a bracelet, surrounded by coordinating colors.

“May I?” I ask.

With her agreement, I grab one of the boards and take the orange glass bead out of the zip-lock. I put different, heavier silver beads on each side, and white cat’s eye beads in between those.

“Those are Bali beads.” Dee points to the heavy silver ones.

It’s like I’m transported into another life. I can’t think about anything other than this design and my fingers begin to take over.

Dee tops off my coffee cup.

“Wow, Hallie! You’ve been here a total of twenty minutes and look at that design!” She can hardly contain her excitement.

“Twenty minutes?” I snap back into reality and look at my watch.

“I’ve got to go. I’m going to be late for work.” But as I dart out the door I yell, “I’ll be back later tonight. Keep my beads on the board.”

Chapter Eighteen

When I finally get to work, fifty minutes late because I failed to take Cincinnati traffic into account, I’m surprised to see Beatrice having a coffee party with two women in my office.

“Hi.” I walk in, still mad at myself for being late.

Beatrice stands while the two ladies sit in the guest chairs in front of the desk. Quickly I determine they’re with Saks Department Store.

I introduce myself. “Let me be the first to say we love the location you have given us.”

The more mature looking of the two stands up. “Yes, Hallie, we are from the corporate office, and wanted to see the boutique firsthand.”

The younger of the two stands up as well. “Beatrice was just telling us about your meeting with the local press.”

I shoot a quick glance at Beatrice and blink, wondering if she’ll understand it as a thank-you.

“Oh, yes,” I say.

They smile with approval.

I turn, wide-eyed, towards Beatrice and listen as she says, “Yes, I was telling them about your meeting with some of the local press about doing a couple interviews with Cincy Beat and What’s Happening Now on the local Fox news channel.”

My heart sinks back into my chest where it belongs. I can breathe. She’s saved me, again.

“We think it’s a great idea,” Bachelorette No 1 says. “We’re very pleased with the way the boutique is set up and your first week of sales without any advertising. This is exactly what we need to open this store. You’ve proven your ability and dedication.”

“Thank you,” I say. I decide to make Beatrice the most killer bracelet my imagination can come up with.

Beatrice shows them around the boutique and Saks. I can tell she’s buying me time to get the local Fox station on the phone and set up an interview, quickly. She winks as they leave my office. To my delight, the station is happy to set up an interview it can use in their “New To Town” segment, that focuses on new businesses in the area. It was almost too easy.

“Brilliant!” After they’re gone, I grab Beatrice by the shoulders and give her a big squeeze. “No one on Michigan Avenue would’ve had my back that quick,” I tell her. “You’re my new best friend! You’re amazing thinking on your feet like that. Tell me everything from the beginning. And don’t leave out a single detail.”

Beatrice beams with pride.

I treat Beatrice to a lunch over on Fountain Square at La Italian Restaurant. We sit on the outside balcony underneath the red awning on the couch and dine on New York strip steak and arugula salad. On Gucci’s tab of course.

Despite the rocky start, my day is good.  Still, I can’t wait for the rest of the workday to be over so I can get back to Dee and my designs. I plan on making it and wearing it with my new orange Gucci silk runway dress that isn’t even out yet. I got the sample in the Michigan store and have been saving it for the perfect occasion.

What’s more perfect than me on television? New dress. New bracelet.

All is good in the world of Gucci.

Week Four

Live life…one bead at a time.

Author Unknown

Chapter Nineteen

Five in the morning comes early, especially when you want to look good and rested.

Clap.

The lights turn on, pounding my puffy eyes. How am I going to look on live television?

My plan? Run, grab coffee, and get to work for my interview. Surely running will wake me up. And if it doesn’t, the coffee will.

Café Beginnings is dark the first time I pass it, and the square is silent. Eerily so, for a weekday. The fountain gurgles and echoes with the pounding of my shoes. But the birds begin to chirp as I head for my coffee, and a few cars pass me along the way.

Addy’s apartment lights are on, and a small light is on in the coffee shop. I knock on the door to see if she’s milling around. A shadow cast on the wall grows bigger and bigger as it comes closer to the door.

“Hallie?” Addy wipes her hands on her apron with a curious look on her face. She opens the door a little wider for me to step in. “You’re early.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” I’m excited to tell her my news and I blurt it out. “I’m going to be on Good Morning Tri-State on Fox 19!”

“That’s great!” She turns back to the counter and picks up the remote for the television.  “I’m going to leave it on all day.”

The coffee is already brewing. She puts out fresh fruit, bagels and doughnuts. “Coffee’ll be ready in a few. What are you going to talk about?” She gets a mug for me.

“They are going to profile the new boutique.” I still can’t believe I’m going to be on television. “My big debut.”

Over coffee I tell her about Beatrice and how she saved my hide because of my lapse of time with Dee.

“Wow, Dee’s business is doing good. It’s a great stress reliever from what I hear.” She leans over her cup and steam twirls around her face. “Maybe I need to take a class.”

“You should.” I encourage her. “We can be like those other groups of ladies that go in and bead all day.”

I’d love to have a group of girlfriends here.

“If I ever get a day off.” She snickers and puts yogurt cups out on the counter.

“It’s strange how beading comes natural to me.” I sip the hot liquid.

“You never know,” Addy says, and waves her hands around as if destiny is in the Café Beginnings’ air, “maybe that’s your destiny.”

She goes on about our karma, and our lots in life. I believe in anything that’ll bring me good luck. Hence the Buddha. Because God knows, after losing my family, and living with Aunt Grace, I need it.

With little time to spare, I thank Addy for the early bird special and jog home.

By the time I got to work and got my beaded jewelry on, the television crew is set up in the middle of the boutique. Beatrice looks fantastic in a black cap-sleeved mini dress and red high heels. Her chic short hair makes my beaded chandelier earrings even more beautiful.

“Wow! You look great.” I run my hand down the seam of her dress to straighten out the silver beading along the front of it. “Great choice of shoes too.”

“Are you nervous?” she whispers. “All my friends and family are watching.”

“I wasn’t until now,” I say and bite the bottom of my lip.  “You’re going to do fantastic.”

“Okay we’re ready.” The makeup lady motions for us with her blush brush. I shake hands with Sheila Gray, the morning news anchor and become a little star-struck.

I ramble on about the boutique and my role. I introduce her to Beatrice. Beatrice perks up and flashes me a grin before she takes them on a quick tour of the boutique.

“We are on in five, four, three… Stop! Go to commercial.” The camera man screams looking at me. “What is on her knuckle?”

He grabs my hand. He motions for the makeup lady who begins to blot it with some thick gooey stuff.

“It completely stands out on the camera.” He whines.

I want to put him in time-out for acting like a three year-old.

“I … it’s a mosquito bite.” I sputter, lying through my teeth.

“That’s the biggest mosquito bite I’ve ever seen. Cover it up and let’s get going.” He hides behind the camera as I apologize.

“Five, four, three, two ….” The camera man points to us.

“Good morning, Tri-State. I’m here at the new Gucci boutique with regional manager Hallie Mediate.” Sheila Gray lets her on-camera persona take over. It puts us all at ease. “Can you tell us a little bit about what you’re wearing?”

I’m dying to tell her about my jewelry, but I hold back. “I’m getting ready for fall in this Gucci tweed trench.” I look down and the sleeve hits perfectly at my wrist, showing off the bracelet.

“Nice bracelet.” Sheila points to my wrist. “Gucci?”

“No.” I fumble with a couple of the beads. “I made it.”

“I love the color.” She admires it a little more. “It’s gorgeous, and it shows the orange in your trench.”

I take the bracelet off, and hand it to her. “I made it, and I’d like to give it to you.”

“I couldn’t.” Sheila puts her hand up to her chest.

“Yes. Please take it as a thank you.” I put it on her wrist. “A perfect fit. You have to take it.”

My confidence takes a leap through the roof, and I’m ready to take on the world.

Chapter Twenty

After the interview, I can’t concentrate on work. All of this bead talk has thrown me for a loop. I’m doing the job I’ve always dreamed of and now I can’t keep my head in it.

What is it about the beads? Do they relax me? Why do they call my name?

With my head full of jumble, I decide to take my lunch break early and stop by Aunt Grace’s.

“Aunt Grace, I brought lunch.”  I gulped my sandwich down before I get to her apartment because there’s no way I’ll be able to eat in there. I had to do it for years with no option, but now that I have the option, I prefer my food without roaches at the table.

She greets me by pulling my hand to her eyes. She inspects my knuckle from the top and all sides. Without a word, she drags me down the hall and right into someone else’s apartment.

“Inas, you hear me?” Aunt Grace hollers into the dimly lit room.

“Aunt Grace, you can’t do this!”  Has she totally lost her mind? “Just because you are the landlord doesn’t give you the right to barge in.”

I jump when I hear a woman’s voice. “I’ve been expecting you.” The gypsy standing near the small table with a crystal ball flicks on a light.

The apartment is clean. Unlike Aunt Grace’s pad, Inas doesn’t have a bug one, or one that I see, anyway. The window treatments create heavy shadows in the dark, airy space. Oriental rugs adorn the floors. One little table sits in the middle of the room. No other furniture in sight, just large pillows flung all over.

“Let me see, please.” My hand is in Inas’ before I can protest.

She inspect my red swollen knuckle before her gaze trails up my arm, around my neck and up to my eyes.

I jerk as our eyes meet but stay silence, not sure if I’m scared or in shock.

Her hands run down my arm and back to my knuckle. I watch as she rubs around it.

“Okay, hi.” My voice is flat with fear. “I’m Grace’s niece, and it is so nice to meet you.”

Slowly I pull my hand away and turn to leave this crazy place. Aunt Grace puts her arm out to stop me. Inas goes around me to shut the door.

I’m trapped!

“Listen, I don’t know what this is, but I need to get back to work.” Or at least get back to the land of the sane.

Aunt Grace guides me back into the depths of Inas’ apartment. Leaving isn’t an option.

“I’ll go to the doctor.” I protest, and make a cross on my chest. “A real doctor, I promise.”

“Now, dear child.” Before my eyes adjust to what’s going on, Inas slaps a wet sticky paste all over my knuckles. “Let that dry on your way home.” She hands me a potato. “Cut this potato in half and rub the ointment off.” She’s so close to my face, I can hear the slight clink of her ear rings. “This is the part where you need to listen closely.” Her warm breath grazes my ear. “You need to bury the potato in your back yard, tonight!” Her eyes pierce a pit deep in my soul and her words sting my ears.

What if I don’t do it? Then what?

I grab the potato, and take Aunt Grace by the hand. “Let’s go.”

I give her the look she knows not to cross.

“I came here to tell you I was on the morning news, and they’re going to be airing it again tonight, not so you could perform some witchcraft spell thingy.” I point to my knuckle with all the goobly glop on it. “How the hell am I supposed to go back to work with shit on my knuckle?”

“Such a pretty girl with an ugly mouth.” Aunt Grace shakes her head, and goes about her business as if the voodoo thing hadn’t happen.

“Aunt Grace, I don’t want some woman touching my body. I will go to a real doctor.” I need her to understand she isn’t in control of my life anymore. Even though I know I still let her have her way almost all the time.

I wipe some of the mystery goo off my hand.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Aunt Grace’s spine-chilling voice causes me to stop and take note.

I look at my knuckle and the goo has become hard, like plaster, only it moves with my hand and doesn’t crack.

She turns on the noon news like nothing out of the ordinary has happened. I wonder how she does this. She can be frail and old one minute and in the blink of an eye, hunt down witch doctors.

I watch Aunt Grace smiling at the television with pride. “I love that Sheila Gray’s jewelry. She always wears the prettiest stuff.”

I look a little closer and can’t help but put the events of the day behind me and grin ear to ear. Sheila Gray is wearing my bracelet.

Chapter Twenty-one

After work, I take the potato out of my car. All scenarios play in my head. All the what-ifs.

What if I take the junk off my knuckle with a wet paper towel? What will happen? I didn’t. I had to stare at it all afternoon at work.

What if I don’t bury the potato tonight, at all?

What if I eat it instead?

What if I do bury the potato and the red lumpy thing on my knuckle does go away?

I take the knife out of the drawer and cut it in half, like Inas’ insisted.

“Here goes nothing.” I take half of the potato and rub it all over my knuckle. The potato is like a sponge and soaks up the dry goop.

“Ah!” I gasp, staring at my hand. My knuckle is back to olive. Like the rest of my body.

I grab a big spoon out of the kitchen drawer and race out the back door where I find Wilson reading the paper.

“What are you doing with a potato and spoon?” He bends the paper down to get a better view. “You should probably cook it first.”

I know he already thinks I’m a nut job, and this will just prove it.

I hold up my perfect knuckle in front of his face.

“What?” Wilson squints, looking for something that isn’t there.

“Funny. I don’t know.” I inspect it a bit more closely in the sunlight. “My aunt’s voodoo tenant decided to perform some sort of healing ritual. My knuckle was red rashy and now it’s gone.”

I dig a hole near the fence.

“What’s with the potato? And why are you digging a hole with a spoon?” Wilson’s shadow is cast on the hole from standing in the rays.

“I have to bury this potato today.” I put the potato in the just-big-enough hole.

Wilson lifts his eyebrows and smiles. “Strange.”

I shake my head, and walk back into the house. I can’t believe I buried a potato and used a spoon, but I really can’t believe I told Wilson.

It’s time to put this day to rest.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I give myself plenty of time to stop by Aunt Grace’s before going to the airport to pick up Lucy, Georgia, and Prudence. I need to remind her I’m going out of town for the weekend.

Uncle Jimmy isn’t on the stoop, and no one’s on the street. That isn’t a good sign. It usually means Aunt Grace kicked him out, or he’s on a drunken binge.

I look up at Aunt Grace’s window to make sure she doesn’t confuse me with the whistling woman, because the last think I need to day is a concussion. It’s shut tight.

“Aunt Grace?” I knock on the door.

Nervously, I knock louder, and put my ear to the door. If anything does happen to Aunt Grace, I don’t know what I’ll do.

“Who is it?” Aunt Grace sounds distant.

“Me, Hallie,” I yell in the crease of the door, relieved she is okay.

The hallway echoes the clinking of the locks as Aunt Grace unlocks all eight that she claims she needs to keep her safe. If this isn’t a sure sign she needs to move, I don’t know what is.

“Hallie.” She opens the door with her arms stretched out before her.

I’m stunned. I don’t know if she realizes her teeth are out, and her wig is perched atop her head ratted like a bird’s nest. I can tell by her slow walk that she isn’t her spry self.

“You want something to eat?” She stirs the pot on the hot plate. “Tomato soup.”

I sit down and look at the hot plate. I’m pretty sure tomato soup is red, not brown.

“I’m full, thanks.” I turn my head in the direction of a whining sound coming from behind her bedroom door.

“You need to eat.” Aunt Grace scans up and down my body.

“No, Aunt Grace. You look like you need to eat.”

“I do eat.” She looks in the direction of her bedroom. “Just lost all my muscle, that’s all.”

She’s not going to discuss it with me and maybe she’s right, but I’m sad to see her getting older by the day.

“Who’s in there, Uncle Jimmy?” I amuse myself at the thought of her having him locked away or tied up for bad behavior.

“Crazy fool, don’t know where he is.” She opens the door and a little pink poodle  runs out, straight towards my Prada sandals. “Got me a dog to keep me company.”

I throw my feet up in the air, just in case the little booger wants to either pee or try to chew my toes.

He jumps up, trying to bite my feet. Aunt Grace cries out in amusement. “Get down, little buddy.”

It looks like the same dog the whistling lady had, except this one is white.

“Aunt Grace, where’d you get the dog?” I ask.

He’s sweet. No sign of peeing or chewing once I put my feet back down.

“Found him on the street.” She’s avoiding eye contact. She picks up the dog and heads towards the door. “Now don’t get any funny notions about it. Just put it out of your head.”

I follow her up the stairs to the building’s roof. She let the dog down and to run around and do his business. I probably would’ve taken in the view of the city, but I’m concerned. Why didn’t she take the dog outside?

“Let’s take him for a walk,” I protest.

I have enough time to do the poor animal justice before I leave.

“No, he doesn’t like it. Besides, I don’t let my tenants have dogs so I can’t let them see me with a dog.” She grabs him, and hurries back to her apartment.

I step over a few cockroaches and pick up the iodine bottle sitting next to the hot plate.

“Put it back. Thought it was dog shampoo.” Aunt Grace put the dog, fighting her tooth and nail, back in the bedroom.

“Aunt Grace, tell me the truth.” The little fellow is scratching and whining, which tears my heart out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Did you take that woman’s dog and dye its fur?”

The little poodle continues to claw and nip at the door.

“You saw her drag that poor baby down the road. Now I don’t want to hear another word.” Her eyes flash, and she talks to me like I’m five years old. “You hear me?”

I let it drop for now.

“Where is Jimmy?” At least he has brains. He’s my only hope for getting the dog to freedom.

“I told you I don’t know.” She stirs the soup. “Probably off drunk somewhere.”

There’s no sense in arguing with her. I know I won’t win.

“I’ll call you when I get back.” I unlock all the locks, taking me a good five minutes. “I know you don’t want to hear me. It’s not fair to treat a dog that way. Remember, you say I’m psychic like my mom.”

She scuttles around the apartment gathering a few things in one of those plastic grocery bags. Flings it over her shoulder, opens the bedroom door and picks up the dog.

“He’s all yours.” She hands me the dog, the bag and pats me on the back. “Have a good time this weekend. Call me next week.”

She pushes me out the door so fast I can’t object, my brains isn’t keeping up with hers, which is unusual. I don’t want her to give me the dog. I want her to give the dog back to its rightful owner.  I’ve never owned a dog and don’t know what to do with a dog.

Reluctantly, I take him with me because I know he’ll be safe at my house.

I put him in the passenger seat of my car, but he jumps into my lap. He leaps back over the console. No matter how fast I move my head back and forth, his licker is faster than me.

I’ll find the owner and give him back. Only the search is going to have to wait until I get back from the spa. By then, Uncle Jimmy will hopefully be back and know where she lives.

“Okay...” I have no idea what to call a male dog dyed pink.

He cocks his head to the side, looking to me for reassurance. I rub his back.

“Okay, Henry, let’s go get the girls.”

He perks up a bit. I think he likes the name. With the top down, and Henry next to me, everything is feeling good.

Henry wags his little tail as if he understands what I’m saying.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Circling the airport with a barking pink dog isn’t my ideal way of getting attention. But I like all the people staring, and smiling at the little guy.

In true Hollywood fashion, Prudence is standing on the curb in a big floppy hat, large sunglasses, and sun dress with wedge heels.

“Over here.” She flags me, pointing to the curb like I don’t know what I’m doing.

If I didn’t know her, I might’ve mistaken her for an actress.

Her face curls as I pull up with Henry in the seat. “What is that?” Her nose crinkles and she points like he’s some type of disease.

“Aunt Prudence, this is Henry.” I know he’ll grow on her like he has on me in the last twenty minutes.

I leave Henry in the car barking and put her luggage in the trunk. There are a lot of people coming out the terminal doors, but no signs of Lucy and Georgia.

“Where’s Lucy and Georgia?” I ask.

“Okay first off, I bought you that Prada, and why’s it in the trunk and clinking?” She props her hand on her hip. Aunt Grace’s china is still in the trunk. She pulls her glasses down on the bridge of her nose. “Secondly, they’re waiting for their luggage. Who are you, and where’s Hallie?”

“Shut up and get in.”

Lucy and Georgia come running out the revolving door. My strange mood turns to complete elation as I realize my girlfriends are finally here.

“Hallie! I’m so glad to see you.” She’s drags out her words with her southern accent she does when she’s really tired. “I don’t think I can live another two months without you.”

“We don’t know how you do it.” Georgia lightly pats me. “She is high-maintenance. When are you coming home?”

“Tell me about it. It’s been on a nice break.” I roll my eyes, smile and point to Lucy.

I’m really joking. She’s never been high-maintenance. Or maybe I’m just used to her after all these years.

“Henry.” Prudence holds up my new cute little companion. “Meet Aunt Georgia and Aunt Lucy.”

“What the hell kind of dogs do they raise here in Cincinnati?” Georgia’s eyes bug out of their sockets.

“I guess you’ve never seen a pink male poodle.”  I motion for everyone to get in the car. I don’t think I can wait another minute to start our girls’ trip. “Long story.”

None of us shut up the entire way to Hyde Park. Henry sits in my lap hanging over the door, with his long fur flapping like he’s been here all his life.

I let Henry out in my back yard so I can show the girls around. They love the cottage feel of the apartment, and I am proud of it. Even though it was already furnished, I have added a few “Hallie” touches to make it home.

“Hallie!” There is anger in Wilson’s voice. “What the hell, Hallie?”

Crap. Crap. Darn. I forgot about Wilson. I hope he isn’t allergic to dogs.

“What is this?” Wilson walks into the room, holding Henry. “No dogs. Especially a pink one.  Orders of the landlord. Poor guy. You should be ashamed, taking away his masculinity like this.”

I can’t think up a good excuse at the moment. But Prudence is quick on her feet.

“First off, who said she can’t have a dog? And real men wear pink.” Prudence gets into Wilson’s face.

Little does he realize who he’s messing with. A lawyer who loves to test the laws.

“Besides, who are you?” Prudence plants her hands on her hips.

I stand between them. “This is Wilson. He lives in the basement apartment.” I completely forgot to tell them about Wilson during our phone calls.

What little time we do get to talk on the phone, I play catch-up on what they are doing without me.

“Well, well.” Lucy turns her head, checking him out. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Georgia.” She puts her hands on Prudence’s shoulders. “This is our single lawyer friend Prudence.”

“These are my friends I was telling you about.” I remind him.

“Oh, the spa thing.” He nods as though he remembers.

“According to article…”Prudence isn’t going drop the confrontation with Wilson.

While they continue to argue, Lucy, Georgia, and I quietly make our way downstairs to catch-up.

I tell them about Hyde Park, Aunt Grace-including Henry, the boutique, and what little I know about Wilson. Wilson and Prudence join us with smiles on their face. I guess they settled out of court.

“He’s a lawyer for Proctor and Gamble.” Prudence’s eye brows lift in delight.

She gives me “the look.” The look she gets when her hormones are on high alert for a potential mate.

“I didn’t even know that.” I look at Wilson with surprise and a little disappointed he never told me. “You said you worked at P & G, but a lawyer?”

“You didn’t ask.” He seems pretty pleased with himself.

“The landlord said cute Henry can stay, and he’ll keep Henry while we’re away for the next three days.” Prudence smiles in a way that tells me that there’s something up her sleeve.

“I don’t know the land lord.” I conclude Prudence’s hormones are making her crazy.

“I’m the landlord.” Wilson looks down at his feet avoiding eye contact with me.  “The rent pays off law school debt. I guess I failed to mention that, too.”

I can’t believe it. This entire time and he never once said he’s the landlord.

“You didn’t tell me that either.” Now I’m just pissed. I’ve been living here for a month and don’t know a thing about him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“No need to. You’ve been a good tenant so far.” He takes a Coke out of the refrigerator. “Until Henry.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Prudence picks up Henry and turns to Wilson. “He’s going to show me around Hyde Park.”

Georgia, Lucy, and I are speechless.

Prudence caresses Henry in a Cruella Da Ville kind of way. Thank God she isn’t into pink fur!

“Maybe we’ll get Henry a little something from Hype Bark,” Wilson says.

We look at each other and laugh. Prudence will do anything for the right man. She just puts a spell on them, and they turn to mush.

I look at my friends. I can’t remember feeling so grateful in my life. They keep me grounded.

Chapter Twenty-Four

There’s something intimate about us driving, laughing over memories while creating new ones. It couldn’t be a more perfect day for the drive to the spa. The road is paved with country landscape adding to the secluded-spa feeling.

The copper dome of the West Baden tops the trees. The entry archway welcomes us, with the brick drive leading up to the five-star hotel that’s rated amongst the 100 most beautiful hotels in America by Travel Magazine.

Our eyes focus on the massive veranda running along the entire outer rim of the hotel.

“I can’t wait to drink my coffee there,” Georgia says, putting her hand up to contain her grin.

“Welcome to the West Baden, ladies.” The bell man opens our car doors as the valet attendant approaches. He starts to put our luggage in the cart. “Let’s get you checked in.”

I chuckle, looking at all the luggage. It’s a two-night spa retreat, not a one-week vacay in Vegas.

The atrium on the inside is something to behold. Our eyes meet the ceiling. “The atrium is two hundred feet across,” the bellman says.

The oversized stuffed chairs make me giddy. The people look like Edith Ann, the Lily Tomlin character from Laugh-In. I want to crawl in and not come out.

“I love being here with you.” Lucy wraps her arm around my shoulder.

“Give me three months away and I’d be fine.” Prudence says, winking even though I know she’s kidding.

“Purdy, who are you kidding? You can’t live without the hustle and bustle of the city. Such a big talker.” Georgia rolls her eyes, and rests her hands on her bulging baby belly.

The room is unreal. The silk bedspread and bolster pillows are the whipped cream to a delicious sundae. The marble flooring, granite top bar and bathroom sinks are the cherry. The bell man opens the balcony doors to the atrium causing a fresh spa air glide around the room.

Our room is on the fifth floor of the sixth story atrium. The lights in the center of the dome change through the colors of the rainbow. We paid the bell-man and sat on the balcony watching the colors for forty-five minutes.

Prudence and Georgia go off to explore the grounds while Lucy and I go for our spa treatment.

The package includes two different spa treatments. I can’t wait to try the mud bath I’ve heard so much about. Plus, it gives Lucy and me the opportunity to really catch up. I can sense that something bigger than me is going on with her and being alone gives me the chance to question her.

The relaxation room is filled with aromatherapy scents, tea, water and light snacks. The chairs are certainly agreeable with the atmosphere. When they call our name to go back for our Moor mud bath, I have to drag my body from the comfy chair.

“Do you think we’ll look like pigs rolling around in the mud?” Lucy looks back at me. I laugh like a little girl. I don’t know what to expect from the Moor mud bath, but I do know it’ll relax me.

To my pleasant surprise, the bath is a large Jacuzzi tub filled with over twenty different minerals to help soothe and calm the spirit.

Silence hangs between us like a thick fog. I can’t recall a time when there’s ever been silence between us. I don’t like it. She’s always shared all her feelings with me.

“You have never been so silent.” I glance over at Lucy who’s relaxing in her tub. Her eyes remain closed in a restful state, making me think she’s okay.

“I have a lot going on in my life and I want to enjoy the silence.” Her eyes don’t flutter. She doesn’t turn to look nor does she flinch any part of her body. The water doesn’t ripple from any slight movements.

The silence blankets me. I put my hand to my chest. The minerals aren’t relaxing me and I’m having a hard time breathing. Lucy’s been my rock over the past years and I need to be her rock now.

“Lucy?” I don’t move. I want her to stay relaxed, I just don’t want her to feel alone.

“Yes?” Her eyes stay closed.

“I’m worried about you.” I confess.

“I know you are. I can feel it in the air.” Her hand reaches for the cool damp washcloth on the side of the tub. I watch in silence as she places it on her head. “I think I need to regroup my life.”

“Can I ask you a question and keep you relaxed at the same time?”

“Sure, Hal, you can ask me anything.” Her hands drape ever so elegantly over the sides of the tub.

“What’s happened for you to think you need to regroup?” I hear the water starting to ripple.

“This is a room for couples, isn’t it?” She looks over at me smiling.

“Yes. I told them we were a couple. A couple of friends.”  I smile over my witty response.

The receptionist did give me a little lip about holding it for best friends and not a honeymoon couple. I don’t understand that. I’m the customer and paying the exact same amount. It shouldn’t matter whether we’re a couple or just friends.

“Thank you. I’ve missed you. And dare I say,” she gasps. “I even miss Aunt Grace’s middle-of-the-night phone calls.”

“You have no idea how much time I’ve spent with Aunt Grace,” I say, but decide that I’m not going to bother her with my worries about Aunt Grace’s health. “Plus, she still calls in the middle of the night.”

Our laughter fills the room.

Finally, Lucy speaks. “I need to think about my life in Chicago, my job, and Beck.”

I remain immersed in the tub trying to relax. The water is warm and becoming more refreshing. I want to take in everything she has to say before I say anything in return.

“Work and Chicago will work out, but I’m not sure if Beck and I will. He wants to move back to Mason Crossing to be with his mother and wants me to go back.”

“What?” I ask.

Okay, so holding my tongue until she asks for my advice is not my forte. That’s the last thing I imagined coming out of her mouth. Lucy is from the same small central Kentucky town that Beck’s mother lives in.

“I don’t see myself moving back there.” The glass clinks as she takes a piece of ice out. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Mason Crossing and my family. But I’m not ready to move out of Chicago.”

“You have to look at what you want in life and what’s best for you.” I said.

“I want to live in Chicago and I want Beck. He wants to do the long-distance thing. I need him when I need him.” I watch her take another piece of ice and place it on her eyelids. “He said it isn’t about me anymore. He said his mom needs him and he can do real estate anywhere, just like I can be a therapist anywhere.”

Lucy’s voice is calm. “He’s going to be there for the next two weeks checking out relocation buildings. That’s why I’m going to take a two-week vacation and live in Cincinnati with you.”

My body tenses at the thought of having Lucy living with me in Cincinnati. I can see it now, she’ll be gone to Mason Crossing the entire time, and I know it.

“Hallie? Did you hear me?” I know if I look up, she’ll be staring at me and my facial expression will say it all.

“I want you to make sure that’s what you want.” I lay with my eyes closed.

“It is. There’s no reason not to. I never take vacation. It’s a win-win situation.”

“How’s that?”

“You don’t have to be alone and I’m just a few hours from Beck.” I knew it.

“Yes, it’s a win-win situation.” I can picture it now. Lucy’s stuff will live with me, but she’ll be in Mason Crossing the whole time.

“I don’t hear the excitement in your voice.” Lucy seems somewhat surprised by the reaction I’m trying so desperately to disguise.

“Ladies, it’s time to get showered off and into the sauna.” The attendant calls out from the other side of the door.

“That settles it.” Lucy smiles, standing up and wrapping the towel around her. “I can’t wait to see Aunt Grace.”

Leave it to Lucy to finish with a little sarcasm.

We find Prudence and Georgia sitting in the Edith Ann chairs in the atrium waiting for us when we come out of the spa.

“We got you a coffee from the café.” Georgia motions for us to come over. She curls her nose up and turns down her lips. “How was the mud bath?”

“Don’t knock it till you try it.” I smile, picking up the welcoming coffee. “We definitely weren’t two pigs rolling around.” I tell them about the minerals, and how each one does something different or good to your body. I wiggle my shoulders around. “See, relaxed.”

“I saw Piper the other night.” Prudence nonchalantly blurts out.

Okay!

Maybe nonchalantly and blurt don’t go together. Blurt, she did.

She said it out of nowhere and with casualty like it’s no big deal when I know for a fact she hates Piper more than me.

“Not so relaxed anymore!” I throw my shoulders up to my ears to show the tension has returned. All relaxation is down the drain, just like the minerals in the mud bath.”That’s completely random, bringing up Piper when we’re having great time.”

I try to get out of the big chair, but struggle with getting my feet to the floor. Huge news and huge chair equal a clumsy Hallie.

“Sh!” Georgia gently reminds me how my voice carries throughout the dome shaped structure.

“Damn, Georgia! A whisper can be heard around here. What do you expect me to say, Georgia? She’s the reason I don’t live in Chicago. And why I’m not around…”

“Bo.” Leave it to Lucy to finish my sentences.

“Funny too because I asked her how Gucci is doing, as if I give a crap, and she did that blended-word gibberish she loves to make up.” Prudence rolls her eyes, and laughs so loud that the guests at the café tables stop to looks at us. “This time her new creation is wontastic.”

“Shhh.” Georgia didn’t shush us so quietly this time, which make us laugh and ignore Georgia.

“You know wonderful and fantastic put together. Wontastic.” Prudence plays it off like its everyday language and how dare us not know what it means.

“First off, I can’t believe you went into Gucci.” I know firsthand that once Gucci gets a hold of you, it won’t let go. But being betrayed over it is going too far.

“No, at the bar.” Prudence keeps sipping her coffee like no big deal. “Bo’s bar. Didn’t Lucy tell you?”

I look at Lucy, who stares at Prudence like a deer in head lights. Make that a deer about to get hit by a car.

“What the hell, Lucy?” Of all people, she knows how crazy I am over Bo and the situation with Piper. “I talk to you every day, sometimes three times a day and you couldn’t mention it?”

“I don’t think it’s healthy to tell you over the phone when I knew I’d be seeing you soon, and all of us could tell,” she says, trying to save herself.

Unsuccessfully, I might add.

“All of you?” I look at innocent little Georgia this time. By the way she’s fidgeting I can tell she’s avoiding me.

“I’ve been gone a month and I’m already out of the loop.” I’ve been spending my nights agonizing over what they’re doing and how much they must miss me, when the entire time, they’ve not missed me at all.

In true Georgia style, she speaks softly and calmly. “We wanted to tell you that night. The way we see, we wanted to be with you when you hear so you can lean on us.” She emphasizes “us”.

Wait.

Why do I need someone to lean on?

Prudence can’t keep her mouth shut. “Oh, okay, Georgia.” She is getting annoyed. “She needs to know and I’m tired of pussy footing around. That bitch wants your life. Including us!”

Prudence’s anger makes her voice escalate as she tries to prove her point. She isn’t going to put up with Piper and her nonsense much longer.

“What? What do you mean?” I jump to my feet, and start to panic, holding my chest. I don’t know what a heart attack feels like, but I can absolutely say I’m having one.

“Talk about Single White Female. She had her hair styled like yours, dressed just like you, carried that same Gucci bag, your signature brown lipstick with a touch of gloss on top and flirting with Bo.” Her head is bobbing up and down. “Oh and drinking a Cosmo!” She points at me. “Your favorite.”

I can’t believe my ears. A month! One month!

“She’s a thief!” I scream out, “And she is getting away with it!”

“She sent you here. I know it. She wants your life so bad.” Prudence is like a water fountain, spewing out all the words while Georgia and Lucy shake their heads in disbelief.

“She asked all about you, and what you’ve been doing in Cincinnati.” Prudence points to herself. “Me, I didn’t say a word. But, loose-lip Lucy told her everything. Even about your house, your job, and down to crazy Aunt Grace.”

Lucy got up to her defense. “Prudence, that’s not fair. What did you want me to tell her? Hallie hates it. Why, Prudence? Why give her the satisfaction when I know she’d shit if she thought Hallie was happy.”

Good point, I thought. “Good way to work it.”

“Work what?” Lucy is mad now.

“Piper. She thinks I’m happy, and will be mad her little plan didn’t work.” Screw her!

I completely understand why they waited, and I appreciate their concern, but it still sucks to hear.

“Bo did ask about you.” Georgia’s smile is as big as the Grand Canyon. “He wanted to know if you were settled.”

Immediately I can picture his note.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I gave him your email addy. He said something about a note he gave you and something about you losing it during your move.” She shrugs, looking at me suspiciously.

“What does he want? Did he say?” I wonder why he confided in Georgia out of all three of them.

“No clue. I do know if he and Piper are an item, they sure don’t act like it. She was paying for her drinks and he made her wait like the other drunks.”  The three of them carry on about how Piper was bent over the bar flinging her money around.

“He did take her money.” Lucy laughs. “I bet she thought she was going to get it for free.”

We spent the rest of the night, and most of the next day catching up, relaxing, and enjoying our friendship.

For dinner, we decide to leave the resort, hit the local Mexican restaurant and throw back a few margaritas. Well, Georgia knocked back a few waters. It is perfect timing for my presentation of the bracelets and the big reveal of my plan with Dee.

“You are such a liar!” Lucy holds the bracelet up, squealing with delight, almost knocking over her margarita glass. “You don’t have a creative bone in your body other than Gucci.” “Where is it?”

I help Georgia put hers’ on. “Where’s what?”

Her hand digs in the bag, sending tissue paper flying everywhere. “The designer’s card.” Lucy really doesn’t believe me.

Prudence is busy trying to figure out the toggle clasp.
“I want order a few more pieces. Oh, I’ll be living with you so I can go to the place where you bought it.”  Lucy won’t let it go.

“Really, Lucy. I did it.”

It’s at that moment I begin to feel so proud of myself. They all have promising futures in their careers.

Let’s face it, I love Gucci and it turned into my career. Now I have another hobby, beading. Why not turn that into a money maker and sell my designs through Dee?

“You tried to help out with decorating the apartment, and it looks like a cross between country and India,” Lucy says. But I love my shabby chic furniture and my Buddha. They may not look the best when put together, but they work for me.

“Seriously.” I tell them about One Bead at a Time and Dee. I blab on and on about all the different styles of glass beads, sterling silver findings, charms, spacers, toggles and clasps.

“We get it.” Prudence put her margarita glass in the air for the server to refill. “More con queso too.” I can’t stop staring at her wrist, adorned with a Hallie original. The bracelet really is pretty.

“I haven’t seen you this excited since your hire interview with Gucci.” Lucy glows for me.

“I have to come up with a business card and a name.” I sat back and look around. Even though I had two more months in Cincinnati, I’m happy. The thought of those two months doesn’t scare me like it did before.

“What about Beadnicks?” Lucy is licking the salt around her strawberry margarita. “Get it, Beadnicks. Beatnicks, hippy, beads.”

Beadnicks.

The girls’ weekend went by so fast. We spent a lot of time laughing, and cherishing our friendship.

“Henry?” Lucy and I open the door to the best greeting from the cutest little white poodle. Pink Henry is no longer pink, and I was getting used to having a metrosexual dog.

Henry bounces between Lucy and I, as we both try to retain his attention. Lucy concedes and goes up stairs while I bathe in doggie licks.

“Wilson?” I scream through the floor vent between kisses.

“Welcome back.” Wilson creeps around the door from the kitchen. “You don’t have to yell.” He points to Henry and starts to pat the furry white poodle. “I hope you don’t mind. I took him to the groomer.”

Henry jumps from my arms to follow Wilson back to the kitchen as I lag behind.

Wilson’s voice changes into doggie voice, “He loved it, and he was such a good boy. He is so handsome. Isn’t he, momma?”

Wilson picks Henry up and lets him smoother him in kisses. There definitely had to be some male bonding going on over the weekend.

“Momma?” I take Henry out of his arms.

I can’t believe it. Pink or not, I’m actually happy to see the little fellow.

Week Five

Happiness is a handful of beads.

Author Unknown

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Hallie, line one.” Beatrice buzzes the phone. I set aside the buying catalog for the spring collection. Usually I fold down the pages of the items I want and most certainly can’t afford. This time I’m not even looking for that, I’m folding pages down making note of color creations for Beadnicks bracelets.

“This is Hallie.” I haphazardly answer the phone.

The new color schemes for the fall season will make great bracelets.

“I hope you’re settled now.”

My heart stops when it hits the pit in my stomach. Never in my wildest dreams did I really think he’d find me here, and a smile appears across my face once I realize the effort he had to make.

“Hallie?”

“Bo! Hi how are you?” I try to keep my voice from squeaking. “Yes, yes. I am settled.”

“Good. I’m still running and people are still coming out to the bar.”

“That’s great.”

My heart is pounding so hard, I’m afraid he can hear the thud through the phone.

Breathe, Hallie.

“How’s the store?”

“Boutique.” I correct him.

“Oh. Well, how’s the boutique?”

“Better than I could’ve imagined.”

What is up with all the small talk? Go ahead, ask me to marry you. I can forgive him for being with Piper, as a lapse of judgment on his part. Everyone deserves a second chance. Right?

“I’m coming to Cincy for a meeting and I thought we can hang out. I mean…if that’s okay?”

“When?” My head reels with a million ideas.

“This weekend.” The silence is deafening between the lines. “I know it’s not much notice, but I just found out.”

I flip my calendar to find an empty two days off, but I’m supposed to work on Beadnicks. I would’ve killed for this a few weeks ago. While he’s gone to his meeting, I can work on beading.

“Sure, this weekend is great.” I rub my hands along my hair not sure if I’m happy, nervous or both.

“Super. Email me directions, and I’ll be there by noon on Saturday.”

“Okay.” I note it on my calendar as if it isn’t already burnt on my brain. “See you Saturday.”

“And Hallie?” Bo catches me just before I hang up and start doing the Snoopy dance.

“Yes?” I bit my bottom lip. Is he already backing out?

“I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

Why? Why’d he say that? I don’t understand why he’s telling me all this right now. He’s had the last couple of years to figure this out and now that I don’t live near him, he decides to get personal.

I dwell on his last words the entire week. It’s hard to stay focused at work, home, and beading, so I went through my routine until B-day came.

B-day is what Beatrice and I called Bo’s arrival. It’s hard to concentrate when I say his name, and using the code name made it seem more like a mission then actually seeing Bo.

On B-day, my morning run definitely doesn’t help my jitters. It only makes them worse. Thinking about Bo, and what might happen on his visit, turns my mind a big fat mosh pit. I trip over every pebble and crack. With my last tumble, I decide to stop at One Bead at a Time and check on the debut of Beadnicks.

“Good morning.” Dee chimed over the teenagers she’s working with.

She’s showing them how to make chandelier earrings, which I can’t even do—yet. I look over her shoulder watching her manipulate the pliers in one hand and the pins in the other.

“I thought you’re having a guest today?” Her voice rose an octave. She rolls her eye, “Teenagers.”

She better not let them get under her skin, they are the majority of her business.

“They come in here wanting to make the next cool thing and they can’t focus long enough to string one bead. And look they’re too busy texting instead of listening.”

“They are our future.” I nod toward the young girl, at the counter, trying on a couple different Beadnicks bracelets.

She has them layered up and down her arm. I walk over, not only to see if I can answer any question, but see how amazing they look on her.

“What do you think?” I wonder and hope she tells me the truth.

I’ve always heard teenagers don’t have a problem telling how they feel, or speaking their mind. I want to know exactly what’s going through her head. I know that I love them, but can my designs hold up to the American teenage-girl standards? In theory, if they like it, it’s trendy and ready to take off.

“Really?” She seems surprised that I’d be interested in her opinion.

“Really.” I don’t want to tell her I made them. I want a real hand-to-God answer.

The girl points from one bracelet to the next. “Love this one. This one is kinda for older people, you know, like, in their thirties, and I love this one.”

OMG! Only three are left on the display. I look under the counter where I put my extra cards to find … nothing. Not even a card. I glance back at Dee, who’s got a huge-ass grin on her face and mouths, “I told you so.”

“As a matter of fact, my friend came in here and bought this really cool bracelet.” She put the two “love this one” bracelets on her wrist. “I came in here hoping to just buy one, and decided to make some earrings.”

She doesn’t look at me—after all, who am I to her—because she’s too busy admiring my creative designs.

“What did the bracelet look like?” I lean in a little closer, not wanting to miss a detail.

She walks around the store looking at all the different beads. She carefully inspects each basket. “These.”

She picks up a handful of funky beads with spikes all over them. I made a couple in different colors that I thought would be perfect for summer.

“Great. Pick out what you want and I’ll make you one for twenty dollars.” I turn, not bothering to take in her shocked expression now that she knows I’m the designer, and I pick up the bead board. I got a few scrap materials I know Dee won’t mind. I watch the teenager pick out several different beads. I have to make the bracelet perfect.

The summer colors she picks matches her cutoff jeans, tanks and flip-flops. With twenty more dollars in the register and a new design in my head, I realize two hours have passed without a single thought about Bo, or his impending visit.

“I’ll be back later.” I yell out to Dee, who’s bent over, helping another future beader. “I have a couple ideas with stretchy cord.”

Because I lost time, I have to jog back and immediately get ready for Bo, only I can’t get the new designs out of my head.  Quickly, I jot down my ideas.

My skinny jeans with my white tapestry hippie blouse, is casual and cute. Minimal makeup and my tassel hair are my best accessories. Well, maybe my seven-millimeter sterling silver ball beaded bracelet I throw together is the best accessory.

When a car door shuts, I pull back the curtain to peek at the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I stop myself from flinging the door open and running out to profess how much I’ve missed running behind that perfectly shaped head of his.

Henry jumps up and down yipping. He’s protecting me. How cute.

“Gorgeous.” Bo yells from the car.

My heart flutters. I did clean my ears with Q-Tips so I know I heard him. He just called me gorgeous. Which is not the same as beautiful.

Gorgeous is showily brilliant, where beautiful is generally pleasing. I prefer gorgeous.

“Where did you get that gorgeous poodle?” Bo grabs Henry out of my arms. “My mom bred poodles when I was a child.” He’s letting Henry shower him with doggie kisses.

I glare at Henry. Traitor.

“Yes, he is gorgeous.” There is something endearing about a grown man—a hot grown man—letting a little poodle lick him like that.

Bo follows me up the stairs to the extra bedroom—Lucy’s bedroom. She’s in Mason Crossing, like I knew she would be.

For the first time ever, Bo and I are alone.

“It’s good to see you, Hallie.” His voice was thick and steady.  “Are you still training for our marathon?”

Our marathon? He thinks of the marathon as our marathon.

“I run every day. I miss our morning runs. I mean, I miss running with people.” I stammer. “You know, the company.”

An awkward pause falls between us.

“So you didn’t miss me?” His hazel eyes twinkle as his lip curls.

“Of course I missed your comments on how I’m not running to the best of my potential.” I bat my eyes in his direction. “Ouch.” I rub my eyes.

I had no clue batting eyes can be dangerous for your health.

“Let me see.” He walks over, tilts my head and uses his finger to find the eyelash that’s ruining my sexy look. “There it is.”

We both examine the teensy tiny eyelash on the tip of his finger. “Make a wish.”

I wish as hard as I can. I close my eyes, and strain my brain to come up with the best wish.

“What?” His brows drew together in an agonizing expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I assure him. “Everything is great.”

It is. I realize that my life and decisions no longer revolve around Bo and running or Gucci. It’s revolving around my passions to make a future for myself. And if the utterly and ridiculously handsome Bo fits into the equation, so much the better.

My wish was about beading. This three months away isn’t so bad after all.

“I can’t wait to hear about, but I have to get going after I freshen up.” He walks into the guest bedroom.

“What.” He stops me before I go downstairs. “Did Georgia tell you I saw her at the club?”

Did she tell you?” Of course she did! She’s one of my best friends! Duh! Girls before guy!

“She might’ve mention something in passing, but I can’t recall. I’ve been so busy,” I spoke in a broken whisper.

I don’t want to lie to him, but I don’t want him to know I’ve actually been avoiding him to keep my own heart safe.

He looks disappointed. “We can talk later.”

“Come on, Henry!” I yell for him to leave Bo alone.

“Wait.” Bo commands, again. “Did she happen to say anything about a note?”

Henry wiggled around, trying to get out of my arms.

“I told her about the note I wrote you.” He watches me closely. “I told her to have you call me.”

“A note?”  I pick up Henry’s ball and throw it down the stairs.

He can’t resist a good ball throw, and darts down the stairs after it.

“I would like to talk to you over dinner.” he said uncompromising, yet in a gentle way.

There’s no getting around this, and I need to hit it head on, crash or not.

“Sure. When did you send me a note?”

Playing dumb is beginning to feel like second skin.

“Your last night in Chicago when I took you home. I left a note on your pillow.”

“You did?” I avoid Bo by picking up Henry’s ball he dropped at my feet, and throw it again.

“Yes.” He replied with heavy irony.

“Huh. Maybe it’s still there.” I’m not about to confess how I take it out, on occasion, rub my hands over it, and analyze every curve, dot, cross and line. “Dinner. Dinner is good.”

I play with Henry while Bo gets ready for his meeting with a new beer company. Well actually it’s Cincinnati’s own Hudepohl-Schoenling Brewing Company. They brought back Burger Beer after hiatus. He’s going to meet with the execs, to strike a deal to sell it in his bar.

The smells of Gucci men’s cologne floats down the stairs and into the family room. I know that scent anywhere. I have to wonder if Piper gave it to me.

Regroup, regroup I remind myself.

“Hey, where’d you get the fu-fu juice?” I want to see if he’ll tell me the truth.

“That Piper chick you work with.” He jogs down the steps.“You should recognize it.”

I want to run upstair, grab the eighty-dollar cologne, and slam it up against the wall. I’ve never wanted to hurt anything Gucci, but today I want to kill that bottle.

“Yes, I thought I recognize the smell.” I turn around so he can’t see the disappointment in my face, and pick Henry up.

“I’m outta here.” He flashes his signature smile and flips his hair to the side. “Wish me luck”

Henry jumps out of my arms, and runs to Bo. His tail wagging. I’m sure if someone takes a picture of me running behind Bo, I’d look exactly like Henry.

As soon as his rental car turn the corner, I run as fast as I can up to Lucy’s room and rummage through his bag. Surely there’s something from Piper in there. She knows I’ll be with him, and she knows I’ll go through his bag.

If I were her, I would’ve slipped a pair of naughty undies or a sleazy note in his bag. Then again, if I were her, I wouldn’t have let him go in the first place. Unless he didn’t tell her was going. Or  staying with me.

Nothing. I dig a little deeper to make sure there’s no hidden compartment. I find his Sunday running shirt and lift it up to the light.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you.”  I bury my face in the shirt and take a deep breath.

Ah. His smell. That’s something you can’t bottle, and I love it.

I look around to make sure no one is looking, not even Henry. I slip it over my head and trot to my bedroom with shirt flying in the wind. If he doesn’t miss his Wednesday shirt, he isn’t going to miss his Sunday shirt.

Chapter Twenty-Six

With the shirt tucked neatly in my drawer, I walk back down to One Bead at a Time. I had a few of the bracelets I made throughout the week to drop off, plus a few business cards.

The afternoon class is full of teenage girls. Their laughter fills the space. Dee’s twinkle in her eye says it all.

“Look what your bracelets dragged in,” She says.

The teenager who gave me a few new ideas earlier that morning, is in the huddle of girls. She whispers a couple things in the ear of the twiggy teen next to her and waves.

I wave back. I find her endearing, even though she drives Dee crazy.

“Hallie, I brought my friends in to make a bracelet.” All the girls look up and wave with smiles on all their faces. She plays with the Beadnicks bracelet on her wrist. “They love what we put together. Do you want to help us?”

“Sure.” I go over and see what they’ve started on, and gather a few other beads I think will accent what they already have.

Dee takes my latest bracelets and Beadnicks cards. She inspects them and hangs them on the display. “Nice designs.”

A few of the girls start looking through them, and by the end of the hour, all my bracelets are gone again.

“Maybe I do like teenagers.” Dee smiles over her coffee cup.

Each girl puts all sorts of wacky designs together.

“You better like them. They’ve made us some money today.” I glance at the gaggle of gals oohing and ahhing over each other’s bracelets. “I need more supplies.”

“You’re going to wipe me out.” She says, and drop beading catalogs on the counter.

My eyes are going to pop out of their sockets with their own excitement as they graze over what graces each page.

“I know. I know. Those catalogs are precious to me, but it’s time you start to order your own things. We’ll keep a spreadsheet of all the bracelets you sell, all the items you order, and we’ll settle up every two weeks. Sound good?”

I concur without speaking a word. I’m not about to ruin this moment.

“Now tell me about Bo.” Dee is settles up with the teenagers.

Briefly, I tell her about the situation with Bo, all the way to the shirt.

“You’re full of it.” She can’t believe I took the shirt.

“Listen, I’ve been running behind him for a good part of two years solid and I miss his smell. Besides, it’s a smelly t-shirt he won’t miss.” I grab up the catalogs.

Speaking of Bo, I’ve got to go get ready for dinner.”

“Dinner? Where?” She leans over the counter with peaking curiosity.

Obviously Bo will enjoy a blues bar. Immediately, the Southgate House, just over the river in Kentucky, pops into my mind. It’s not too far, and a fun experience.

It’s a cool mansion built in the 1800s with loads of history. The remodeled historical landmark is a great music venue for national and local bands—perfect for Bo’s interests and for a first visit to Cincy.

The Ballroom is a cool two-story, horseshoe balcony with a full bar that’s used for larger bands. I think it’d be great for him to hear our local blues band, The Mean Street Band.

They happen to be playing in the Parlour Room of the Southgate House. The Parlour Room has the best seat in the house. It’s an intimate venue for local bands to get up close and personal with their fans. And intimate enough for Bo and I to accidently rub up against one another.

“Hallie, look.” Dee dangles spectacular grey hematite beads in the air.

“Can I have them?” I beg, snatching them like a thief. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking? I can make something really cool for tonight. Elegant, even.”

It doesn’t take long to make a hematite necklace with a few bali accents and a matching bracelet. I have the perfect black silk halter top from Bebe to go with it. It’s a crinkled chiffon, v-neck with a smock hem gathering at the waist. The gray and silver will look stunning against my black skinny jeans, four-inch black Manolo Blahniks with my long Italian silk black hair hanging down making a dramatic effect.

“Gorgeous.” Bo seemed to be peering at me intently.

“He is pretty special.” I eye Henry bouncing off Bo’s thighs.

I hand him a Maker’s and Coke, and make myself a strong Cosmo.

“No, I mean you this time.” His eyes catch mine. “You look amazing. Really, I don’t think we’ve ever had time together where we can just talk and get to know each other.”

Taking his drink, a shock travel through my fingertips and straight to my heart. Our eyes hold for a second, though it seems like an eternity.

“I ….” I step back.

“Did I catch you off guard?” He takes my hand with his free hand.

“Sushi?” I blurt out. “Do you like sushi? I hope you don’t mind, I made us a reservation at a great sushi bar on the river.”

I’m about to screw up the situation I’ve been dreaming about for the past two years. Only the idea of him in a relationship is changing everything.

“What about Piper?” I take a gulp of my drink.

His brows furrow. “What about her?” He fidgets with the ice in his drink.

I have to recapture my hold on him.

“She likes sushi, doesn’t she?” I play off my stupid comment.

“Don’t know.” A crocked smile crosses his lips. “I like sushi.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Diner is excellent. He orders the Japanese sampler entrée featuring sashimi, tempura with stewed vegetables along with a few other fascinating complements. I order the sushi combination. I enjoy feeding Bo more than I enjoy my food. We laugh about our running experiences and how far I’ve come.

“At least I don’t hold my side anymore.” I laugh, remembering all the times I had to stop to take a breath.

“Hallie, I really want to talk to you about the note I left you.” Why’s he so damn bent on talking about the note? I let Piper decide my fate for three months. I refuse to let her ruin my night.

“We have all night to be serious. Why waste this awesome atmosphere?” I toss my hair over my shoulder and sip through my stir stick. I pray I look more sexy, than a fish out of water.

After dinner, we drive to the Southgate House to listen to The Mean Street Band.

I am spot-on. Bo loves it.

He enjoys the atmosphere as much as the band. I watch Bo stare at the band with a glossy look in his eyes. He reminds me of a kid in a candy shop when he turns to me and grins.

“Thank you, Hallie.” His arms around my waist the way I’ve always dreamed. The heat from his lips enter my ear, making my hair stand up on my arms, and tickle my toes. “This has been the most relaxing and enjoyable evening I’ve had in a long time.”

“You haven’t been hanging with the right people until now,” I whisper back, trying to do my best Marilyn Monroe.

I look up to find myself getting lost in his eyes. His arms encircled me, one hand in the small of my back. His lips met mine, and the kiss sings through my veins.

“Did I tell you, thank you?” He smiles, slightly pulling away.

“I think you just did.” I smile back.

It is hard for me not to stare and every time I do, he looks over to catch me admiring his awesomeness. I try to watch his line of vision and see what he is focusing on. I follow his eyes over to the bar.

“Let’s walk over here for a second.” He reaches for my hand and leads me through the Parlor to the bar, where the lead singer of the band is savoring a drink. “Nice work up there, man.”

The singer holds his glass up in the air as a sign of thanks.

By the end of the conversation, Bo works his magic and books The Mean Street Band for a gig in Chicago.

“This is awesome, Hallie. Chicago is going to love them.” On the drive home, Bo talks about the band when I want him to talk about our future. “I hope you can drive up and watch.”

“When are they coming?” I keep my eyes on the road because his kiss is already tattooed on my brain.

“Three weeks.” He slightly turns towards me and touches my leg. A warming sensation vibrates throughout my body. “You can come home for a weekend, right?”

Home. Home never sounds so sweat to my ears.

“Sure, if you want me to come.” I’m fishing for an invitation.

“You found them for me, and I’d be honored if you’d come.” He leans over and kisses my cheek. We might have traveled in silence the rest of the way home, but my mind is racing.

I’ll plan a weekend go home and include a girls’ night in. That’ll mark my second month away, and we can celebrate the fact that the next time they’ll see me, I’ll be a Chicagonite again!

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Like a gentleman, Bo holds the front door for me, and catches my arm on the way in.

“Hallie.” He speaks my name in a way that tells me that he wants more from me than conversation.

I turn to face him. My breath quickens when I notice how handsome his face looks in the shadow of the moonlight.

Gently he pulls me closer, his lips recapture mine, more demanding this time.

We linger with our lips lightly touching, barely skimming. Hesitating only for a moment as our lips part, finding the slight tips of our tongues. My tummy begins to tingle with anticipation, leaving me wanting more when he pulls away.

“I’m sorry.” He looks down at his feet. His smile glistens in the natural moonlight. “I should’ve asked to kiss you.”

“Don’t apologize. I enjoy it.” I put my fingers to my mouth longing for his lips, “I won’t object to another one.”

Our eyes connect. I wrap my arms around his neck.

“Mmm,” I moan, and continue to caress my tongue along his lips as he picks me up and slams the door with his foot. He carries me up the steps and lays me on the bed.

This is it! I just know it. It’s finally our time.

His hands cup my face, keeping it steady. His lips start at my eyebrows, eyelids moving onto my ear and neck. But I stop him.

“Let me go freshen up.” I want to put on that sexy negligee I’ve stashed in the bathroom just in case of this very moment.

I make sure to keep eye contact, and put a little more swing in my sway.

I can’t help but notice how big I’m smiling in the mirror. It’s taking up so much space; I can’t see the rest of my face.  I lick my lips trying to look sexy and fantasize how it’ll turn Bo on.

I carefully place my tits in the hot pink silk nightie so they’re perky and ready to play.

I swipe on a little more gloss, pull my hair on a low pony and get ready to make my grand entrance for our first night together.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” I anticipate the look when he sees me. I’m not liking the vibe he’s giving me. I panic, feeling a little desperate. “Are you okay? Did I take too long?”

“I thought you didn’t get this?” He’s holding the note in the air, the note I accidently left on my bed side table. I guess the look on my face says it all. “Why would you lie to me? I wanted to share something with you, but I guess you don’t care.”

He put the note in the trash can next to the door on his way out.

I head towards to door only to stop when I realize I already look like a fool. If I go after him, what will I say? Beg him to sleep with me? No.

I sit on the edge of my bed feeling like a fool. “Not tonight, girls.” I say, and pull the top up on my barely-there nightie. I reach over for my comfy terrycloth robe. I at least have to check on him. He is, after all, my houseguest. I’m trying to see some hope in the fact that he hasn’t left the house.

“Bo.” I knock on the closed door.

“Hallie, it’s late. I’ve had a long day, and I need to run in the morning.” There is a pause. “Good night.”

I put my hand up to the door and lean my head against it. I daydream he’s leaning against the door with his hand the same place mine is. Just like you see in the movies. Only I know he really isn’t there.

My heart that was filled with excitement is now filled with empty space.

“Good night.” I walk away, leaving every bit of my soul hanging out by his door.

I schlep into the bathroom, trading in my hot pink teddy for my University of Kentucky pajama pants and white tank.

“You’re so stupid.” My reflection stares back at me with a yep, you screwed up look.

How’d I let this happen? All the work I put into this. Two years. Two years I’ve waited to kiss him and I screw it up in minutes. If he wasn’t in the same house, I would be screaming, crying and calling my girlfriends for advice. But this time, I have to rely on my own instincts.

I crawl into bed thinking how wonderful his kisses made me feel. I weep. It is silent and deep. I haven’t felt this type of grief since my parents’ death.  I reach under my pillow, burying my head in his Sunday shirt. I replay his kiss over and over until I fall asleep.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Hallie?” My ears spring up when I hear Bo’s voice call my name.

I wait for a minute to make sure I’m not dreaming. I must’ve cried myself to sleep.

“I’m going for a run. Want to join me?” He calls from behind the door.

I know he hasn’t forgotten, but I hope he’s forgiven me.

“Let’s go.” I bolt out of bed before he changes his mind.

He darts out the door before I can get my left shoe on, but I catch up, and fall in step with him as if I haven’t missed a single day of running behind him. His Sunday shirt is hiding under my pillow forcing him to wear a plain tee. The sound of pavement hitting under our feet is less deafening than the silence between us.

My head pounds from a night of weeping. But I blow it off because running with him cures any aliment I have.

Bo looks back. “It’s time you ran next to me. Besides, I don’t know where I’m going.”

A hint of forgiveness in his voice, or maybe just a willingness to forget. Proudly I run next to him and begin to point out all the landmarks I’ve grown to love. Dee is sweeping outside the store as we run by.

“Hi, Hallie.” We stop, and I introduce Bo to Dee.

Her eyes expand in approval. “I sold all the bracelets yesterday. When do you think you can get me more?”

“When I made the one for my outfit, I made a couple of them. Plus I used some of the stretchy cord with some of the inexpensive beads. The teenagers told me twenty dollars is almost too expensive for them.” I can see Bo is trying to figure out what we’re talking about.

“I think we can sell them for fifteen dollars and we’ll make more profit off them than the toggle ones.” Dee agrees.

Stretchy cord is going to go over well with the teenage population World of

Beads is drawing in.

“I can bring them later today when Bo leaves.” I’m happy to run into Dee. It shows Bo I haven’t been waiting around for my three months to be over. It shows I’m actually enjoying my time in Cincinnati.

Getting back into the pace, we head toward Café Beginnings.

My chances with Bo as a couple, but he does make a great friend.

The line is almost out the door. Addy shouts out people’s name to pick up their finished mochas, and treats.

“Hey you, where’ve you been?” She scans past my face to focus on Bo.

“I’ve been busy making bracelets and work. Plus my friend, Bo, is visiting from Chicago.” My eyebrows arch.

She gives me a secret thumbs up before we sit down at the café table in the front.

“We’re going to sit outside.” We make our way through the café.

“Tell me about your bracelets,” Bo inquires after we sit down at the wire tables. “Were you wearing them last night?”

I tell him the One Bead at a Time story, my TV interview, bonding with the teenagers and the fact that my jewelry is “selling like hot cakes.”

“I love it so much. I‘m making samples so when I come home I’m going to try to sell them to my favorite boutiques.” I say. “I really hope they place orders.”

Addy is watching us. A big grin planted on her face.

“Excuse me for a minute.” I’m giddy with delight and I walk over to Addy.

“He’s so good-looking.” She leans her head out the door to get another glimpse at him. “Those eyes.”

“I know,” I gush. “I keep reminding myself he has a girlfriend.”

Addy looks at me like I’m crazy. “I don’t think he has a girlfriend. If he did, he wouldn’t look you that way.”

If he is dating Piper, she hasn’t called. Nor has he made any type of reference to her that makes her sound like a girlfriend.

Bo stands up when I get back to the table. “Let’s finish our conversation after our run. I have to get back to the Windy City.”

Is that a little hint of sadness in his voice? Maybe it’s my imagination hoping he’ll be sad when he leaves. Nevertheless, he does want to talk about last night, damn!

We jog back in silence.

“I’m going to get my things together.” Bo walks up the stairs.

I take my beads outside and sit on the patio watching Henry smell every blade of grass in the yard and then pee on them. I finish six stretch bracelets by the time Bo comes out.

“Wow, Hallie. You surprise me every time I see you.” He picks up a few of the bracelets and looks at them. “You’ve really embraced your life here. I was worried about you and I wanted to make sure you were going to be okay. That’s why I wrote the note.”

He sits the bracelets down on the bead board.

“You cried the night before you left. You were drunk, but you cried. You told me that you didn’t want to leave your friends and me.” He gently reminds me of my drunken state.

Oh no! I thought I passed out cold on him, and now I’m finding out that I confessed my love?

“When I asked you about me, you said something about running and how you started because of me. Then something about not seeing me on a daily basis.” He laughs. “That’s when you passed out cold.”

He bends down and picks up Henry.

“I watched you sleep the entire night.” He put Henry down and squats between my legs. He stares into my soul.  “I want to keep in touch with you. I thought you were avoiding me and you didn’t want anything to do with me. Burger Beer is an excuse to come to Cincinnati to see you. I could’ve made the deal over the phone, but it’s you I wanted to see.”

Stay calm. Don’t screw this up.

Bo tells me how he wants to see where things will go with us. “Your lie about the note makes me wonder what else you’d lie about. The one thing I hate and especially in a relationship is a liar.”

“I have an idea.” I cradle his hands in mine. “Why don’t we put the note incident behind us. I’m embarrassed about you bringing me home that night. I’d love to take it slow and see if our friendship can become more.”

I take a deep breath, getting ready for my big-girl speech.

“Maybe a few calls here and there. When I visit in a few weeks, we can spend time together. In four weeks I’ll be back in Chicago, and we can see each other on a regular basis.”

Obviously there’s nothing going on with Piper any more If there is he wouldn’t be inviting me to still come to the bar.

This is a good relationship plan. While I’m here, I can focus on honing my beading craft, create a marketing plan, and look forward to starting a real relationship with Bo.

“Deal.” Bo leans in and left me with a kiss to remember until our next encounter.

Week Six

You can never have enough beads.

Author Unknown

Chapter Thirty

It’s been less than twenty-four hours since Bo left, and I’m already obsessing over him. We have no commitment to each other, but I can’t help but think about Piper and what they are, or aren’t, to each other. I can’t imagine he is if he’s willing to be seen with me at the bar. Why can’t I let this go?

“Earth to Hallie,” Beatrice taps her pen on my office door. My hand flies up, knocking my coffee mug over. I grab one Kleenex after another to soak up the spill.

Beatrice grabs the trash can and slides the mess into it.

“Wow. You are out of it. I knocked four times.” She curiously searches my face for the reason I’m in la-la land. “Sheila Gray from Channel 19 is on the phone for you.”

Another interview? I jump across my desk reaching for my phone, and my black Gucci vest soaks up the remaining coffee. “Shit!”

“Excuse me?” The voice on the other end of the phone asks.

I didn’t realize when I pick up the receiver, it picks up the call. Great!

“This is Hallie.” I bury my head in my hands.

“Hi, Hallie, it’s Sheila Gray from Fox 19.”

Please don’t tell me the bracelet broke. I rub my forehead in anticipation,

She continues, “I get fan mail from all sorts of people. I’ve received nothing but compliments on my bracelet you gave me. Everyone wants to know where I got it.”

“I don’t know what to say. I’m glad, actually ecstatic, that everyone likes it.” My day can’t get any better than this.

“That’s why I’m calling. I want to know, if I give you some colors, would you be interested in making me a few more?” She pauses. “At a cost, of course. I don’t expect them for free.”

I say nothing, taking in the glory.

“The quality is so strong. There isn’t a flaw.” She gushes, “Your work is so professional.”

Okay, now my day can’t get any better.

“So, will you?”

“Yes. Yes, I’d be glad to make them, but it will come at a cost.” I take a deep breath. I’m feeling gutsy, “Can I get Beadnicks in the wardrobe credits?”

What do I have to lose? We can always compromise.

“Done,” she says with no hesitation. “And I can one-up you. I want to interview you as the upcoming jewelry designer from Cincinnati.”

My mouth falls open. There’s no way this is happening to me. I’ve never had a life of luck. I think I’m going to cry.

“What do you say?”

“I say yes!” I can’t contain my excitement. “Thank you, Sheila.”

“My pleasure. Now Channel 19 doesn’t have to spend so much money at Tiffany’s.” She laughs.

Me compared to Tiffany’s? Since Saks is so close to Tiffany’s it’s hard for me not to look in the window when I walk by going to work every morning.

This is big. Bigger than I ever planned it to be.

Chapter Thirty-One

My mind, heart and soul are ready to start working on new bracelets for Sheila, but with Aunt Grace weighing heavy on my heart, I decide to stop by and visit before I throw myself into beading new bracelets.

I don’t know why I’m shocked, but there he is. Uncle Jimmy perched on the stoop. He must be back on the wagon.

“Your aunt is upstairs.” He points up the steps without moving to let me through.

“Good seeing you again.” I give him the old captain’s salute.

“Gotta favor.” He looks up. He actually gives me eye contact, which sort of creeps me out.

Great.

“Sure, what?”  There it goes, flying out of my mouth before I can think about it. I should know better.

“Grace and I want to go bet on the ponies. We want you take us in that fancy car of yours.” Was this a statement or favor? “We want to go this weekend.”

Seriously, they want me to take them to the racetrack? I can’t believe they want to spend their last dime on horses. I can’t imagine taking them to Wal-mart, much less River Downs.

Just then, the phone rang. Saved by the bell!

“Hello?” I don’t look to see who it is because I don’t care. It’s getting me out of this conversation and talking to my enemy is worth getting off the hook with Uncle Jimmy.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.” Bo’s voice drips through the phone.

Well, well, don’t hold back, baby.

“Hello.” I plunge forward after once I realize I’m leaning up against the wall in the hallway. “I was just thinking about you too. I’m getting ready to visit with my aunt. Can I call you back?”

“Your crazy aunt?” His laugh sounds so sexy.

“Yes,” I whisper.

I get a little tug in my heart. I feel a little bad that all my friends refer to poor Aunt Grace as crazy. Of course I don’t make matters better because they’re just repeating what I say.

“I won’t hear from you in a week.” He jokes because of the time she called and I missed going out with the running group.

Another missed opportunity with Bo. I have to stop missing those opportunities.

“Really I’ve had a nice time visiting with her while staying here. I try to see her once a week.”

“That’s sweet.” He sounds sincere. “I’ve got to run, but I wanted to call and thank you again for such a great time.”

“You’re always welcome here.” The warm fuzzy begin to creep back.

Before I let him hang up, I told him about my Beadnicks’ job with Sheila Gray.

“Maybe when you come visit, you can talk to Monk about financing and taxes,” he says.

Eww. . . good point. I haven’t thought about all that. “He can sit down with you and make sure that Dee isn’t screwing you out of money.”

“I don’t think Dee is that kind of person.” I state.

I don’t like the idea of him accusing my friend. “It’s not all about money. It’s about me having happiness and joy in what I’m doing.”

I catch myself off-guard with such a grown up statement. Since when did I really believe that?

“It is all about business, Hallie.” He’s states a fact. “The reason I have Monk as a partner is because he’s good with finances.”

Aunt Grace opens her door and peeks her head. She opens the door wider. “Hallie, dear, I didn’t know who was talking out here. Thought I lost my mind.”

“Bo, Dee is not my partner.”

I really never have considered this a joint venture, only a business arrangement. Not different than any other deal in the retail industry.

“You know the saying, if you have to have a partner, then you can’t afford it, anyway.” Aunt Grace blurts out.

But she’s right. I smile at her, and put my forefinger to my mouth and give her the old shh sign.

“She sees potential in my designs. I’m going to do the same thing with all the little boutiques. Besides, I’m excited that Sheila Gray wants my designs.” I follow Aunt Grace into her family room. She turns off the television and politely waits as I finish my conversation. “I’ll call you when I leave Aunt Grace’s and after I pick up my bead order from Dee.”

“Wait,” Bo says. “Why not send the beads to your house? You have an established business name, use your social for the tax ID and you can make it all your own. Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

“I promise.” I smile holding the phone close to my heart. This is the first time he’s called me and we talk about more than running. I jump at the cockroach running across my Manolos and throw my leg in the air, launching the roach in mid flight across the room.

“Aunt Grace, seriously? Pest control? I’ll pay for it.”

“It wouldn’t be the same without them critters.” She put her glasses on. “Did you see Jimmy outside?”

“Yes.”

“Did he ask about the races?”

“Yes.” I’m trying to leave it to one-word answers because I don’t want to take them and she’ll talk me into it.

“You gonna take me?” She leans in with her head cocked, giving me the wonky eye.

“You mean both of you?” She knows I’ll do anything for her, but not so much him.

“Hallie, you know I don’t ask for a single thing unless I really need it.”

“You want me to drive you to a racetrack so you can blow your money?” I can’t believe it. He’s talked her into winning a ton of money and she’ll fall for anything he says.

“I want to get out of here and have a little fun.”

“My friend is going to be visiting this weekend from Chicago, so I’ll see if she doesn’t mind.” God, I hope Georgia minds. She’s coming in to do a photo shoot at Fountain Square for Fit Pregnancy Magazine.

During my brief visit with Aunt Grace, I agreed to take them with or without Georgia. On the drive up to One Bead At A Time, I have a nagging suspicion I’ll regret taking them.

I can’t wait to get to One Bead at a Time. My stress builds at the mention of Aunt Grace and dissipates with the feel of the beads sliding off my fingertips onto the wire. Plus I can’t wait to see if my order came in.

Dee is in her normal position, standing over a few ladies trying their hands at earrings. I can tell by her tone, she’s a little frustrated with them. Earrings aren’t the easiest to make. You have to manipulate the wire and pliers at the same time and twist.

“Excuse me, ladies.” Dee walks over and grits her teeth. “A little more challenging. They just aren’t getting it.”

She reaches down and places two big boxes on the counter. “I haven’t had time to check the packing slip. You can do it.”

“What do you think about me getting a tax ID and send the beads to my home?” I watch her carefully to see how she reacts.

“You have the name, you’ve got the clientele and if you want to continue to do this in Chicago, you are going to be on your own,” she says, and I know it’s going to be okay “You can’t be coming here every week to pick up beads.” There is pleasure in her eyes, like a mother when her baby takes her first step. She’s been guiding me all along toward independence and I just haven’t seen it until now.

The idea of me being my own boss does scare me a little. I pick up the two boxes.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, heading for the door. Dee wants me to stay, I can tell, but I can’t wait to get home and spend the rest of the day creating designs for Sheila Gray, my first celebrity client.

Home.

Funny, I’ve never considered Cincinnati to be my home.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Stretchy bracelets, toggle bracelets, clasp bracelets, bracelets with dangling charms, bracelets with dangling beads, earrings, a couple of watches. You name it, I bead it.

Carefully, I brush my hands over the beads spread out on the floor as if they were precious gems. There are orders from Dee to be filled, along with some from parents’ of some of the teenagers.

It’s definitely time to think about a tax ID, and begin to make those business decisions. Bo’s right. I need Monk’s help to show me the basic ropes. Otherwise, with my luck, I’d get put in jail for tax fraud.

This week I will apply for a tax ID, and next weekend I want to drive to Chicago to surprise everyone. I’ll make it a point to stop by the bar to see Monk, and pick his brain.

I’m not telling a soul, not even Lucy. She won’t care anyway, since she left a message saying not to worry about her. She’s visiting her family, along with Beck, and doesn’t know when she’ll be back.

The bracelets for Sheila Gray were delivered by courier. She left a voicemail saying how perfect they were and there aren’t any changes. She left a few dates to set up an interview. But I’ll have to get back with her. I’ll be back in Chicago, and my plan is to have a few boutiques carrying Beadnicks’ jewelry so I can plug them.

Bo and I keep our compromise not to commit to each other until I go back. We talk a few times during the week and discuss new running tips for me to work on while I’m away. He did throw in a few things we can do as a couple when I get back.

There is never a hint of Piper in his life. And she hasn’t bothered me at work. In fact, it’s like she’s non-existent. She’s a been thorn in my life and that seems to have been pulled out.

I put the stretch cord down on the board when the phone rings. It’s Georgia. She’s supposed to be here by now.

“Hey, girl!” The excitement is inevitable in Georgia’s voice.

“Where are you?” It’s natural for me to worry, since she’s pregnant.

“We’re on Fountain Square, scoping out the place for the photo shot.” She barks out some orders in the background. “Did you pull some accessories for us to use?”

“I did. I got a few purses, some at the higher end of the spectrum, and a couple scarves.” I want to use our fall line to showcase. Gucci is extremely pleased with the idea.

“Didn’t you get jewelry?”

“You’re going to love it.” I didn’t tell her that she’d be using all Beadnicks jewelry. There is no way I’m picking any other designer. Every piece is custom-made to match each piece of clothing and other accessories.

“Great. Hey, I gotta go. See you in a couple hours.” She hangs up, leaving me time to lay out the accessories on Lucy’s bed. I step back for one last look. For the first time I am proud of myself.

Henry jumps off the bed when he hears the door open.

“Honey?” He drags out the beginning syllables. “I’m home.”

I almost beat Henry down the steps. It’s been so long since Wilson’s been home and I’m excited to see him. He hasn’t heard all my good news. Bo, jewelry, Bo, no Piper, and did I mention Bo?

“Prudence?” I’m a little taken back when I see her standing in my family room.

It’s shocking to see her and Wilson, hand-in-hand. Not that they won’t make a great couple, but when did all this happen?

“Wilson was in Chicago for business.” They smile at each other with a secret looming between them. She wraps her arms around his neck. “We hit it off and have a lot in common. It’s history from there.”

Still in a little bit of a shock, I’m not sure what to say.

“If you were going for surprise, you did a good job.” I continue to shake my head back and forth between the two. “Wow! I saw the connection you guys had, but this?”

“I know.” Prudence squawks. “He’s amazing and Daddy loves him.”

Of course daddy Roebucks loves him. Prudence’s dad loves anything that signals money. After her mom passed away, her dad left her to be raised by nannies while he was off making money and having an affair.

“You’ve already introduced him to your dad?” I ask in disbelief.

This is a big step for her. Usually they don’t get past the front door.

She takes me by the arm and whispers in my ear. “I think he is the one.” Her shoulders rise along with her eyebrows.

I drag her upstairs to have a “come to Jesus” meeting. She needs someone to show her the light and I’m that someone.

“Are you kidding me, Prudy?” I shut the bedroom door behind me. I have to hear the words come out of her mouth and into the universe.

Gracefully, she sits on the edge of the bed with her head held high and posture perfect.

“Of all people, I thought you’d understand.” Her body stiffened. “You know I don’t let men into my life. Especially a love interest.”

My heart aches for how I just treated my friend.

I sit next to her.

“It worries me because it’s so soon. I’m just surprise, that’s all.” My voice fades away.

She grins from ear to ear. The sparkle in her eyes says it all. “You know, it’s weird. I never expected to fall in love with another lawyer.”

A twinge of jealousy pings my gut. I can’t believe I am actually envious of her relationship with Wilson. It’s taken me this long to find a passion in life and a possible love interest.

Not Prudence. She’s got life by the balls. She was born wealthy. I grew up poor. She lost her mom. I lost my mom and dad. She loves being a lawyer, I love Gucci.

Okay, maybe not a good comparison. She’s always loved being a lawyer. And now I’m questioning my loyalty to Gucci. She blinks and can get a guy to fall in love with her while I have to join a gym and stalk the running group in order to get a chance to run behind a guy I want to notice me.

“Guess who else is here?” I question Prudence.

It will be like a girls’ night in all over.

“Georgia.” Prudence squeezes my hand.”She told me she was coming.”

“I must’ve been the last to know about you and Wilson.” Just because I don’t live in Chicago doesn’t mean they have to shelter me from life there. I follow her out the room, through the house and down to Wilson’s apartment.

Wilson is pouring three glasses of wine.

I have to say it’s nice to see Prudence genuinely happy. I love the way Wilson makes sure she gets her wine first, the way his hands lays on the small of her back, and how his eyes gaze at her.

“I haven’t seen Lucy since she’s lived here. Her stuff lives here, but she doesn’t.” The wine tastes sweet and goes down smooth. “I have to show you something,”

I grab Prudence by the hand and drag her up to Lucy’s room. She’s going to die when she sees the exquisite bracelets, earrings and watch designs.

“I must have this.” She picks up the new Gucci hobo in burnt orange.

“Fine.” I take the bag and put it back in the brown dust bag before handing it to her. “Look at my designs. A local news anchor ordered bracelets from me.”

I clue her in on all the happenings going on with the beads, my plan, and Bo.

“That’s great, Hallie.” She embraces me. “You deserve to be happy and you’re glowing.”

I’m ashamed of the way I reacted to her news about her and Wilson. She completely accepted my decisions with Beadnicks and my relationship with Bo.

“I only want you to be happy, just like you only want me to be happy.” She walks towards the door and turns around. “Maybe being transferred home is what you did need in your life.”

Listening to Prudence’s words only confirm what I’ve been feeling in my heart. Until now, I hadn’t been able to put it into words.

I sit for a moment listening to Prudence and Wilson interacting in my family room. There is definitely something between that I haven’t seen in any of her other relationships.

“Georgia!” Prudence yells.

I jump off the bed and see Georgia waddling up the cobblestone sidewalk. I run down the stairs, and open the door.

“Look at you.” I rub her belly. I can’t believe how hard her stomach is.

“Does my belly have an unwritten sign that says ‘strangers, please rub me’?” She looks down at my hand. “Do you know how weird it is when strangers walk up and rub my stomach and ask me when I’m due?”

“I’m not some stranger.” I protest at the similarities she’s placing between the two.

“No you’re not.” She put her hand on mine still resting on her stomach. “You’re the godmother.”

My mouth flings open along with my eyes that fills with tears, “Me?” I cross my hands on my chest in disbelief. The honor I’m feeling is incredible.

“Don’t worry. Lucy and Prudence can give strength where you lack it, and vice versa. God mothers, as in three.” She clarifies.

“Now I’m mad I have to share.” I tease and point to Prudence, who begins to drip off of Wilson. “I’m really only one-third a god-mommy?” I rub my chin. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. I can do that.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Luckily everyone agrees to come along and be nice to Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy on our little excursion to River Downs. River Downs is a racetrack on the east side of Cincinnati and is celebrating its 85th anniversary. It’s extremely crowded.

“I love the smell of good manure.” Uncle Jimmy’s nose is sticking out the window on our way into the parking lot. “Gonna be a good day, Gracie. Good day!”

Prudence and Wilson laughing at Georgia, who’s practically holding her nose. Does he smell the horseshit, or the shit smell coming from him?

Aunt Grace is wearing her Sunday finest, looking like a flapper in her beaded black strap dress with fringe hanging off the bottom, and lots of black beads around her neck. Her short hair, in waves around the crown, is pinned back.

I can tell by the expression on her face she hasn’t been out in a long time. She acts like a child, sitting in the front seat with her hands carefully crossed and trying to be on her best behavior.

Uncle Jimmy is a different story. He’s wearing the same dirty jeans and ratty sweatshirt he’s worn every day I’ve known him.

“Jimmy, you got any good tips?” Wilson asks, half in amusement and half-serious.

“Yeah, don’t step in dog crap.” When he laughs, his mouth opens so wide you can see his rotted teeth.

“What are you laughing at?” I watch Georgia giggle with her hands around her belly to keep it steady.

“I didn’t realize I’m laughing out loud.” She rolls her eyes in disgust, leans forward and whispers to me. “Don’t you ever and I mean ever, let Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy watch my baby.”

“Queen City Oaks Day.” Uncle Jimmy looks at Wilson. “My tip, bet on the Queen City Oaks $100,000 stakes race.”

Jimmy hops out of the car before I can get it in park. “Hallie, you need a new car.”

“Uncle Jimmy, this isn’t my car. You’ve seen my Solara.”

“It’s my SUV.” Wilson confirms. He let us use his car because all of us couldn’t fit in mine.

“I don’t know what SUV is, but you need a new car.” Jimmy pokes Wilson’s chest with his index finger.

I give Wilson the wonky eye. Uncle Jimmy is already on Wilson’s nerves. He doesn’t know when to stop.

“Listen here, old man,” Wilson calmly bends over in Uncle Jimmy’s face, “don’t go around poking people.” Wilson pokes him back, causing Uncle Jimmy to curl his shoulders. “Especially people who are bigger than you.”

Uncle Jimmy steps back and walks around Wilson towards the track. “You need better friends,” Jimmy says to me. “Didn’t you learn anything from me and your aunt?” If I remember correctly, he was never around when Aunt Grace was raising me. He only showed up when he needed money for a drinking binge.

But I say nothing, and I place my hand on Wilson’s chest to stop him from confronting Uncle Jimmy.

“He’s crazy.” I beg, “Please let it slide.”

I’m so embarrassed. All my friends hear all my stories about Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy, but have never experienced them firsthand. Except Lucy, and she’s not even here to help me out.

“Yeah, no big deal.” Prudence tippy-toes up and kisses Wilson on his clinched jaw, which makes his anger go away.

Once we get through the crowd, and stand near the rail, we all look at each other. We have no clue what we are doing. Everyone scans the day’s racing program speculating what all the numbers mean.

Uncle Jimmy is spotting off different theories, and in a small way, I really do believe he knows what he is doing.

The stake race is next and that’s what everyone seems to be here for—including Uncle Jimmy. Aunt Grace is enjoying a mint julep on a near bench and twirling her beads as if there is nothing more she’d rather be doing.

“I’ve got my horse.” Georgia pats her belly. “Baby jumped when I read the name. So I know it’s going to win.” She points to a horse named Paddington Kiss and Tell.

“He’s 20-to-1 odds, Georgia.” Wilson points out.

“And?” Georgia points to the belly, and does her best Patrick Swayze voice Dirty Dancing. “What baby wants, baby gets.”

“Okay, Paddington Kiss and Tell it is.” Wilson takes his money out of his wallet. We decide to put all our money on one bet, for a total of one hundred dollars.

“Big race.”Uncle Jimmy watches Wilson collect our money. “Who ya bettin’ on?”

“We’re going to combine and bet on Paddington Kiss and Tell.” I show the name to him, knowing he can’t read.

“20-to-1?” He scoffs. “You gonna lose. Let me go place it for you.”.

“Sure. The last thing I want to do is stand in that line.” Wilson hands the money to Uncle Jimmy.

My stomach did a turn that I can’t explain.

With a giddy-up in his step, Uncle Jimmy is in his element. He’s going to put our money to win on Paddington and his money on First Class Conception, the favorite.

“Maybe you should go with him.” I suggest to Wilson.

“Crazy old man will be fine.”

Uncle Jimmy skips all the way to the window, there’s a tug of regret in my soul. He turns around once he places the bet and shakes the ticket towards me.

Thank God he did it.

Excitement builds in the air. Even Georgia said the baby is kicking and moving around with all the energy.

I bend down and talk to Georgia’s belly. “Listen, baby, win this bet and we’ll get along just fine.”

Everyone hangs on the rail to root on their horses. Paddington isn’t anywhere to be seen on the tote board. Of course, First Class Conception is first.

“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!” Prudence jumps up and down pointing to the board. “Paddington Kiss and Tell is coming up!” She screams pumping both fists in the air.

Paddington’s name is in third just behind First Class. It’s like a screaming competition.

Uncle Jimmy is screaming, “Run First Class.”

We’re screaming, “Go Paddington!”

They’re neck and neck running down the straightaway, ending in a photo finish. The tote board reads: “Win-Paddington Kiss and Tell.” That’s all we see. Taking each other’s hand, we begin to celebrate after realizing the amount of money we just won.

“Forty-two hundred dollars!” I scream.

Lady luck has definitely been on my side since coming back to Cincinnati. My life seems to be turning for the better. About time.

“Dinner’s on me!” Wilson picks up Prudence and swings her around. “The Precinct. Only the fanciest restaurant in Cincinnati.”

“Ya hear that, Gracie?” Uncle Jimmy is practically screaming at Aunt Grace. He points over to Wilson. “Dinner on him tonight.”

Aunt Grace smiles and nods. She has no idea what he said, the crowd is loud and still cheering from the big upset.

“Well,” says Wilson, who clearly didn’t mean to include Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Grace. “I guess you can come if you don’t poke anyone.”

“Where’s our ticket, Uncle Jimmy?” I put my hand out. I can feel the money already in my palm.

“What ticket?” He questions me like I’m the stupid one.

“Our winning ticket.” I start to panic and lay out my empty hand in front of him.

“I didn’t like your bet, so I put my money with yours on First Class.” He pulls his hands out of his pockets, letting the lining hang out and lint fall off. “See. Nothing.”

I grab Prudence before she launches a fist toward Uncle Jimmy. I know I can’t change what happened, but I can save Uncle Jimmy even though I don’t want to.

Wilson remains on the ground, with his face buried in his hands. If I didn’t know better, he looks like he is crying. Aunt Grace sits on the bench, smiling like everything is okay. Something tells me to forgive Jimmy and get out of here.

Georgia goes to the bathroom either to pee or throw up. I’m trying to calm Prudence down with little help from Wilson who continues to sulk.

“Do you know what you could’ve done with the money we just lost? Your business.” Prudence pleads with me to yell at Uncle Jimmy.

“There’s nothing we can do now. We have to,” I say, but stop to see what all the commotion is about.

The ohh’s and ahh’s of the crowd are for Uncle Jimmy who’s shimming up the flag pole and planting the longest kiss on the bald eagle’s nose.

“See Wilson!” He hangs off the top like a proud monkey. “I told you I could kiss that eagle’s nose.”

I turn to Wilson. “What’s going on?” And then back to Uncle Jimmy, who swinging around the top putting on a full show. There is no forgiving now.

“Told you I could kiss the eagle on the nose.” Jimmy shouts and puckers up. “You owe me ten dollars.”

“Crazy fool.” Wilson says, but he looks like he’s getting some pleasure from Uncle Jimmy creating a bigger fool of himself.

“Get down, Uncle Jimmy!” I scream and point to the ground. I am so mad that I’m dizzy from my blood pressure taking a leap. “I said, now!”

“Sir, you need to come down now.” A nearby police officer yells through his megaphone.

Once we have Uncle Jimmy down, I rush everyone to the car. We ride in silence even after we drop Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy off.

When we get home, I let Henry out. Georgia goes upstairs to go to bed because she has a headache. Prudence walks down to the basement. The back door opens and shuts behind me. It’s Wilson.

“I want to apologize.” Wilson’s voice is almost silent. “Your uncle…”

“Wilson!” Prudence shouts.

“Err…I want to apologize.” He’s going to try it one more time. “I shouldn’t have given your uncle the money. It’s my fault we lost.” The door closes.

I don’t feel like talking about it.

Chapter Thirty-Four

“Wow. You look like crap.” Addy’s opens the doors just as I run up.

I make sure I get out of the house before everyone gets up. I can’t sleep in. Plus, I’m still upset about what Uncle Jimmy did at the track.

“You would too if you had my life.” I point to a coffee cup to signal my need for fuel.

Addy pours the coffee, and I tell her my story. The story that has become my identity or what I have let become my identity. I start from the moment my parents died to Uncle Jimmy climbing the flagpole.

“Stop! Stop or I am going to pee myself.” Addy’s hand is on her stomach to stop her laughing pains. I’m glad Uncle Jimmy is entertaining to her. “Only this would happen to you. I know, instead of Murphy’s Law, we can call it Hallie’s Law.”

I snort because it sounds so unreal. And if it didn’t happen to me, I don’t think I would believe it.

Addy makes me a to-go cup so I can make it back in time to get ready for the photo shoot, and see my friends go back to Chicago.

They are packed and ready to go when I get back. Prudence is going to hitch a ride with Georgia and the film crew after the shoot. Yesterday’s events go unmentioned. I think all of us want to put it behind us.

Fountain Square is buzzing with people. The models look great in the clothes, Gucci looks fantastic, but the jewelry adds the sparkle that the camera needs.

I take more samples, just in case the sizes aren’t right, and the models and some crew members buy my bracelets on the spot. This is going to leave me in a mad rush to remake almost all the samples I need for my secret trip to Chicago next weekend.

It’s actually a blessing in disguise. I need a stress reliever and beading more will help me. That, and a stiff drink.

And boy, do I need to get out of this city. Or at least a good distance from Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy.

“Your jewelry is a hit.” Georgia goes over how to spell Beadnicks and how to describe each piece in order for the magazine write-up. “You know, once this hits shelves in two months, everyone is going to want your designs. Are you ready for this?”

I know she is trying to tell me to get my act together and come up with a marketing plan within the next two months. “Don’t worry,” I tell her. “I have a few ideas I’m batting around.”

I want to keep my plan in my head until I talk with Monk and a few of the boutiques back home.

The crew didn’t waste any time packing up, and we said our goodbyes. I still keep my surprise weekend visit, next weekend, a secret.

Wilson went back to his apartment when we got home. And I worked on more bracelets. I open the basement door knowing Henry is downstairs.

“Henry?” I hear paws running up before I finish his name.

I smile at that cute poodle bounding up the steps. I never would’ve thought I could feel this way about a dog. Not looking up, the shadow on the steps wants to be acknowledged, too. “I am sorry.” Wilson looks up. He chokes back the tears. “And I miss Prudence.”

I stand at the top with Henry in my arms.

“Want a drink?” I feel bad for him. I know exactly what he’s going through. He looks like a whipped puppy.

“Yes.” He schleps up the steps. “I can’t believe I’ve fallen this hard for a girl.” He takes a couple of beers out of the refrigerator, and hands me one. “I’ve been a bachelor all my life. I’ve dated a lot of women and none of them hooked me like Prudy.” He takes a big swig, leaving a fizzing sound behind.

“Can you survive a week?” I can’t believe I’m going to tell him my plans. I might as well ask him to come along. What if the car died? Then someone will stop to help, but really kill me. See, a win-win situation.

“Why?” His eyes narrow in curiosity.

“I’m going to Chicago next weekend for business and a surprise visit.” I forgive him for betting Uncle Jimmy and daring him to climb the flagpole. “You big baby.” I hold my bottle in the air and he cheers me.

I don’t know if it is my conversation with Wilson that gives me the muse to make a hundred more bracelets or the sight of a lovesick man, or the strong vodka, but I continue to bead as he talks about his future and how Prudence fits into it.

I string every bead I have. And I love every bracelet I make. Before bed, I put together a new bead order. I’ll drop it off at One Bead at a Time during my morning run.

As I get ready for bed, I take the Sunday shirt out of the drawer and pull it over my head. I close my eyes tight and I inhale Bo’s scent into every crevice of my soul. I take another deep breath in delight because I know in five days I’ll be able to see him. This weekend isn’t going to come soon enough.

Week Seven

So many beads…so little time.

Author Unknown

Chapter Thirty-Five

Staying up late thinking about Bo, and beading, makes for a difficult Monday morning. Especially since I dropped off bracelets to Dee before work.

I rest my head on the desk. I have to pull it together for my conference call with the managers and big wigs of Gucci.

“Do you have everything you need?” Beatrice fills my cup. “Can you make a move to let me know you are okay?”

I wave a few fingers in the air without lifting my head up to acknowledge her existence.

“You have your conference call in five minutes. I’ll buzz you when it’s time.”

I wave again without lifting my wrist and keeping my body still.

She puts the mail on the edge of my desk.

I straighten myself up and push the button when it buzzes.

“Hallie from Cincinnati boutique.” I bring my chipper voice up from the bottom of my stomach. Thank God the conference calls aren’t Skyped. I’m in no shape to be seen.

Beatrice takes a seat with her pad out ready to take notes.

“Hallie!” I would know Piper’s voice from anywhere.

The sound of her voice sends spin numbing shivers up my back.

“Good morning, Piper.” I might look tired, but my voice doesn’t reflect it.

“You know, we should v-log about your boutique opening.” The excitement in her voice escalates. “Everyone is raving about what a fabulous job you have done.”

V-log? “What in the hell is a v-log?” I put my finger over the microphone and whisper to Beatrice. She scribbles, video log.

Of course, v-log. Doesn’t everyone know what a v-log is? “Are you kidding me?” I throw my pen in the air and mouth to a smiling Beatrice.

“I appreciate your interest, Piper, but I don’t have time to video tape all of my actions or the actions of employees.”

Of course I don’t have time. Any time I have, I want to bead.

“I understand that, but it will be helpful for the future of the company to be able to go into each project strong right from the beginning.”

I’m flabbergasted by her comment. Flattery will get her nowhere. Beatrice writes something down and holds it up. Frenemy.

“What?” I ask.

She reaches over and put the phone on mute. “She’s your frenemy. She pretends to be your friend, but she’s really your enemy.”

I sit back in my chair and ponder this frenemy thing.

“You know, the old saying: Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” Beatrice reminds me.

I haven’t seen Beatrice in battle and I like it. I was worried about how thick her skin is, and what’ll happen when I leave in five weeks.

Five weeks left. Just thinking about the five weeks, gives me the boost of energy I need to finish this call.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Piper, but since it’s your idea…” I pause to get the words out correctly. I know my Michigan Avenue store sales are down, and it’s my time to stick it to her, “I think you should v-log about your store and all the good things you are doing since I’ve been gone.”

I’m amused at her stammer, “I, I…”

“I left you with an established store. Not only established with awesome associates and faithful customers, but also during the busiest season.” I have no problem reminding her about the shape the store was in before she gave me the boot.

Michigan Avenue boutique always brings in big numbers during the summer time.

“Good morning, ladies.” The mysterious voice, who I refer to Charlie, as in Charlie’s Angels, booms through the phone. “First, I want to ask Hallie how the weekend photo shot went with Fit Pregnancy Magazine.”

It’s just another jab at Piper, and a feather in my cap, as I talk about how gorgeous the day was and how the background made the clothes pop.

“How on earth are we going to replace you in less than five weeks?” Charlie asks.

“Sir, if I may introduce my assistant Beatrice.”

He interrupts. “Yes, I have heard about her.”

We look at each other inquisitively. Who in the hell told him about Beatrice?

“The girls told me about her. I understand she’s been fielding your phone calls.” I completely forgot about the time I was late and Beatrice came up with the wonderful idea about Fox 19 doing a story on the boutique.

“Yes, sir, and she’s doing a fantastic job.” I confirm.

I believe Beatrice is a true Gucci manager and loves the G’s as much as me.

“As a matter of fact, Beatrice is the one who knows the good people of Fox news and set up the interview. She comes in early and stays late. She even suggested a few of the outfits that made it into the magazine shoot.” There is silence which allows me to continue. “She is the fastest learning associate I’ve ever worked with. She has the potential, with the right grooming, to make it to the top.”

“Grooming?” Beatrice mouths in a pissy sort of way. She mutters under her breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“It sounds like you’ve put Gucci above your needs and thought about the future when you leave.” Charlie is pleased. “Very good, Hallie. Everyone please join me in applause for how well Hallie has made a success out of our boutique there in Cincinnati.”

“Five weeks left?” Piper is curious.

Why? Is she planning something? I don’t trust her.

“Yes. And I’m going to miss Cincinnati, but I’m ready to come home to my associates.” I want her to know she’s still treading in my territory, even if Bo isn’t in the picture.

“Maybe you should take a staycation when you get back.” She suggested.

Beatrice scribbles, Vacation when you stay home.

I don’t understand all this combining-word stuff. What happened to Webster’s Dictionary straightforward words? Vacation, no matter where you are. Frenemy? Just say enemy. V-log? Just say videotape.

“I don’t think you should worry about me.” I’m tired of her trying to one-up me. “I’m not planning on staying in Cincinnati.”

“I’m sad to announce that Hallie has declined the regional manager position we offered her.” The voice comes through loud and clear.

“I was just saying we’ve all heard how hard you are working and maybe when you get back you should take in your city.” I don’t like the way she emphasizes your. “You can take a few days to relax.”

Charlie chimes in. “Piper.” He is trying to interrupt her as she babbles on. “Piper!” The phone goes silent. “Gucci would like to thank you for your contribution, but you’re no longer a regional, as Hallie is. Remember, she’s your boss now.”

Yeah! Take that! I want to yell into the phone, but refrain and let Charlie take care of me.

My spirits lift. Beatrice’s eyebrows arches up in a V and she’s tiptoeing around the room in a happy dance.

“Sir, I’m empathizing with her. I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to put her complete heart and soul into this company. And .…”

“Yes, Piper, and we thank you for that. Now we need to move on to the item on the agenda. We have fall preview coming up and ….” Charlie continues with the meeting.

The rest of the meeting I’m on cloud nine. You can’t knock me off with a bat. At the end of the conference call, Charlie asks to speak with me offline.

My heart races because I‘ve never talked to him. I mean I’ve talked to him, but never one on one. I’m probably stepped over the line with Piper and he’s going to scold me for it.

“Hallie?” He questions whether I’m still on the line.

I’m going to start right out of the gate. “Sir, I’m sorry for the banter between Piper and me. I know better, being the regional.

“Don’t worry about that. There is a reason we didn’t offer the Cincinnati boutique to her.”

What did he mean? We didn’t offer…OMG! She didn’t want to give up her regional? They demoted her.

“Kudos to her for wanting to take the Michigan Avenue store, but as you can read the numbers I sent you.”

I look at Beatrice and begin shuffling papers on my desk to find the numbers page he’s talking about.

Beatrice put the pages in front of me. She scribbles on her pad Day you left early.

Of course the numbers come in on the day I left. Wonder which day it was, because I seem to be leaving a lot lately.

“What do you think?” Charlie asks. But I don’t hear a word he utters. I’m trying to find the numbers page.

“May I?” Beatrice places her hand up to her chest.

“Sir, let me introduce you to Beatrice. She and I have gone over and over these pages.” Beatrice nods, letting me know she’s got some good ideas, “I think you’re going to like what she has to say. I know I like her ideas.”

Beatrice and Charlie go on and on about the flagship store. Charlie agrees with everything she’s saying. She’s been accepted in the family and her face shows it.

“I can’t believe he loves my ideas.” She clasps her hands together after the phone conference. “Are you mad that I studied your pages?”

“No. I’m actually glad. You saved me again. I want to thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I don’t know. I feel like my life just took a turn in a different direction.” She smiles. “I think I want to be bigger than a regional. I’ve got so many good ideas for all the stores.”

My heart wants to jump out and kiss her. I’m so proud of her. She’s grown so much in the past seven weeks. I have no doubt she’ll go straight to the top.

“I almost forgot.” She hands me a note. “The manager at Saks needs to see you.” I roll my eyes. The manager has never wanted to see me before, I wonder what’s wrong? I put it in my drawer. I’ve already put out more fires than I want to this morning and there’s no water left in the hydrant. The Saks manager will have to wait until another day.

Chapter Thirty-Six

By the end of the week, Wilson is raring to go. He’s standing outside on the porch waiting for me to get home with Henry attached to his leash.

“Let’s get going.” Wilson throws his bag in the back seat of the car.

Henry yaps in delight. He loves going for rides. I look at my phone, thinking I should call Aunt Grace. But I’m still angry about last weekend and need a week off from them. I know she can’t help what Uncle Jimmy does, but she can try to restrain him.

I look back at Wilson, who’s motioning for me to go. “I need my Prudence fix. Let’s go.” He desperately pleads.

Aunt Grace is going to have to wait. The boutique is in good hands with Beatrice. I have beaded enough bracelets to replace the ones sold by Dee. My samples are neatly tucked in cute Beadnicks boxes I made, my business cards ready to go and my accounting is in a folder for Monk take a look at.

Lucy is in Mason Crossing with Beck and her family. The condo will be empty. Perfect for Bo and I to spend some more alone time.

The drive isn’t too bad with Wilson and Henry to keep me company. We pull into Tower Place. I don’t think I can take another minute how wonderful Wilson thinks Prudence.

Obviously the feeling is mutual, Prudence squeals with delight when she opens the door to find Wilson standing there with three dozen roses and a big grin.

She rushes me and Henry out, shutting the door behind us. I realize I’m not going to be spending any time with her this weekend.

“Welcome home! I’ve missed my southern belle.” Sam tilts his hat.

If feels great to be home and going up in the elevator to the fifty-first floor. I laugh watching Henry dart around, smelling all the nooks and crannies he can fit into. He runs out on the balcony when I open the door. He jumps on the chaise and lays down, letting the sun warm his belly.

“Like mommy, like son.” I smile watching Henry bask in the heat.

Everything is in order. All my stuff is the way I left it just a few weeks ago and the smell of familiar is a welcoming scent. I put my overnight bag away and pick up the phone to dial Bo’s number. Quickly I place the receiver back down. What am I thinking? It’s Friday night and he won’t be home. He’ll be at the bar. It’ll be sweet to surprise him.

I pull my long black hair up in a bun tight to my head and carefully put on minimal makeup with dark eyes. My black four-inch heels with my Lela Rose white silk halter dress outlined in black with a thick black belt to accentuate my waist complete the perfect outfit.

“Bo won’t be able to keep his hands off me,” I say. Henry wags his tail in approval.

I give him lots of kisses before I catch the next elevator, and hail a taxi. No way can I walk all over downtown in these heels.

The bar is packed when I get there. My heart skips when I see Bo behind the bar, doing what he does best.  His hazel eyes gleam from the bar lights. I make my way across the room, keeping my eye on him as he works his magic.

There’s something very seductive how he handles a bottle of Jack and the way his fingers twists and manipulate the lime. My mouth waters with the thought of his hands on my body.

“Excuse me?” I yell over the noise, trying to get his attention. “Excuse me?”

“One sec, honey, lots of others in front of you.” Bo swings around when he registers my voice. “Hallie!” He drops the bar towel on the bar and turns to an employee.  “Hey, take over. I’m leaving.”

Bo picks me up and kisses me harder than he ever has. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to come home,” I say after I come up for air. “Here to surprise you.”

“Let me take you home.” He leads me out of the bar into the alley. He pins me up against the wall. His kisses are soft and gentle. My legs fill with goose bumps as he kisses my neck.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” Our mouths deepen longing for more of each other. I don’t care that my Lela Rose dress is probably getting ruined. All I can think about is Bo and getting him back to my place.

“Let’s go,” I whisper.

Holding his hand, I drag him out of the alley and hail a cab.  I can’t stop touching him. He’s like a fine piece of rare Italian leather.

Bo and I can’t keep our hands off each other—all night long.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“Meet me for a run.” Bo brings me a cup of coffee, shielding the morning sun piping through the window.

I roll over, remembering the night before. My heart soars at the fact he’s here.

“I’m going home to get some running clothes on. Meet me.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Lincoln Park Zoo. One hour.”

His smells lingers even after he leaves the room. I hug his pillow and smile. It’s everything I dream of and more. He’s gentle and sweet. He works his way around my body better than I can.

I put on some shorts and a tee, take a few minutes to walk a happy Henry, and I’m off.

We run, then return to my place. Henry enjoys the balcony. Bo and I enjoy each other.

The few hours we spend together are better than my dreams. He wants to know more about my plans for Beadnicks and my future with Gucci. It’s electric when you share your dreams with someone you love.

“I think it’s great you’ve found something you really enjoy.” He rubs my back as we lounge on the chaise with Henry at our feet.

“It’s amazing,” I gush. “I’ve never felt so passionate about something in my life. It makes all the bad things in my life melt away.”

“I know.” He agrees. “That’s how I felt when I opened the bar. It’s my baby and I’ll do anything to nurture it.”

He’s right. Beadnicks is my baby and I’ll do anything in my power to keep it alive and well.

After Bo left, I take Henry on another walk and visit a couple of my favorite boutiques that happen to be dog-friendly.

I take my samples, and copies of the photos from the Fit Pregnancy shot. The photos have a great view of my designs paired with Gucci. I even added my Beadnicks logo. This is a great brochure to hand out to perspective boutiques.

I might try to hit up a couple of the local dog boutiques if I have time.

“Hallie, your back.” Kiki, the owner of the first boutique we stop in, is happy to see us.“Are you here  to stock up or are you back for good?”

Before I left for Cincinnati, I complained to anyone and everyone that would listen about the transfer and purchased all my favorite products to take with me. Including my moisturizer I get from Kiki’s.

“Actually, I’m good. But I’m only back for a weekend visit.” I smile as Kiki pets Henry. “I want to know if I can pick your brain.”

Kiki looks curious. “Sure.” She motions for me to follow her to the back room in the store. “Sit down.”

Henry jumps in my lap, and I put my bag of goodies on the floor.

“I discovered a new talent since I’ve been gone. One that’s become a lucrative part of my life.” I pull out the brochures, some sample bracelets, and hand them to her.

“Where did you get these pieces?” Kiki takes her glasses out of the case and puts them on. She looks a little closer. “Quality work.”

It doesn’t hurt that the bracelets are paired with one of the most expensive designer labels in the world. Gucci makes a monkey’s butt look gorgeous.

Okay, here goes nothing

“I design and make them myself.” I pull out my marketing-plan notebook with pride. “I’ve sold this many in the bead store. Here you’ll see my profit and loss. Fit Pregnancy used Beadnicks in a photo shoot that will be out in two months.”

“How will the readers know where to purchase the jewelry?” She cuts to the chase, trying to figure out how much business Beadnicks could bring to her store.

“On each page of the photo layout there is a caption of the clothing, plus accessories.” I take out a Fit Pregnancy magazine to show her what I mean. “In the back of the magazine, the retailers are listed.”

“So what’s in it for me?” She picks up a sample I lay on her desk and carefully inspects it.

“I’m going to offer my favorite boutiques a marketing plan to debut my new jewelry line. I came to you first, but others are expecting me.” I feel that I need to put urgency into the deal before she slips away.

“Plus, I have a line of dog collars that aren’t out yet.” I take out a copy of Sheila Gray’s news video. I made one for each boutique. “A Cincinnati’s Fox News anchor ordered several pieces to wear. She’s received several emails asking where they can buy my designs.”

She puts her hand up to stop me. “Enough said.”

Nervously I watch as she puts the samples back in the boxes.

What? I knew it. My jewelry really does suck and Kiki is the only decent person to tell me.

“One hundred pieces to start with. A good mix of colors and designs. I hold all the rights to say no to any design I feel won’t sell.” Kiki smiles at me, as I’m practically shitting my pants. “I love it, Hallie.”

One hundred pieces?

I take a deep breath, coolly stand up, and hold my hand out. “I’ll have my accountant send you the paperwork.”

“I want it by the end of the month.” She’s testing my coolness.

“Done.”

Of course I said done. Forget that I’m not living here, forget that I don’t have all the supplies, forget that I have a real job and forget that the end of the month is in two weeks.

I got orders from three more boutiques, including Tails in the City, a dog boutique. Since I don’t have any samples, I have to pitch the concept using Swarovski crystals and incorporating the dog’s birthday month. They love the idea and order twenty. A good start.

Henry is exhausted by the time we get home, and he heads back out to his favorite spot on the balcony. I jump online and order an insane amount of beads. It’s hugely expensive, and that’s without the overnight shipping. All had better go well with Monk, because I just put thousands of dollars on my credit card.

Monk is a little strange and not especially chatty, but I pull out my marketing notebook and hand it to him shortly after I arrive at the bar.

“I think you can guide me in the right direction.” At least I’m hoping he can.

His eyes scan the pages. Then he turns and heads to the back of the bar.

“Where are you going?”

“Calculator.” One-word sentences appears to be his specialty.

He returns, punches in some numbers, and jots down some calculations on a spread sheet. “First suggestion,” he says, “get a tax ID. Do an LLC using your social.”

I grab my notebook out of my purse and start making notes.

“Secondly, you have to make over five hundred pieces of jewelry within the next two weeks. I suggest you hire someone at this rate.” He points to a number. “And get the orders filled.”

I write faster, using abbreviations. I can smack myself for not learning shorthand because I’m going to have one heck of a time trying to figure out what I’ve abbreviated.

“Thirdly, you need to take a long hard look on the future. Do you want to make this your hobby or job? Because you have a lot of interest, that can make you a career. Especially when this magazine ad hits.” He holds up my brochure. “When you’ve seriously thought or done something about my three points, call me and we can discuss this further.”

Leaving, my head is a boggle bag of crap and is messing with me, because I know I don’t see Bo’s arms wrapped around Piper, across the street.

Quietly I hide behind the dumpster in the alley. He hugs her again. I rub my eyes. A cab pulls up and Bo opens the door. She graciously pulls her legs in the cab just before Bo shuts the door. He watches the cab leave before he turns and runs in the front door of the bar.

I make sure he’s out of site before I hail my own cab—home.

The ride back to my condo is definitely not as good as the one last night. The one I need to forget.

I throw myself on the bed. Henry is desperately trying to get to my face to lick my salty tears. I push him aside.

“No Henry,” I whimper. “Please, no, Henry.”

My heart is no longer real. It’s been taken over by an artificial one that beats because it has to, not because of love.

I gather my samples, Henry, and drive back to Cincinnati. I’ve got to get out of Chicago. And away from myself.

With my red eyes swollen from five hours of crying, I barely remember going to bed. “Hello?” The phone startles me. In fact I don’t even have the energy to look at Caller ID.

“What the hell are you doing in Cincinnati?” Wilson laughs nervously. “Prudence tried to drop me off, but your doorman told me you took off to Cincinnati.”

“Awwww no!” I clap turning my lights on. Eyeing my clock, I realize I’ve slept all Sunday away. “Wilson, I completely got lost in my drama and forgot you had come with me.”

“Great, Hallie! Just great!” He is pissed. “I have only known you for seven weeks and already I’m so sick of your selfish ways.”

“Wait a minute!” I hear Prudence scream at him in the background. “She is not selfish! That’s one thing she’s not. She has to have a pretty good reason for leaving in a hurry.”

Thank god for Prudence because I have no energy to defend myself.

“Give me that phone. Hallie, honey, tell me what happened.” Prudence tries to help.

“I sold over five hundred pieces of my jewelry in the boutiques yesterday.” I have to find my silver lining for going to Chicago.

“Did you have a nervous breakdown because of the pressure of making those bracelets?” she asks.

“No.” I sob. “I don’t know why I’m letting myself cry over that jerk. I know we don’t have a commitment, but we did have a connection and then I saw him hugging Piper.”

“I see.” Prudence listens to me crying. “Listen, I’m going to call Lucy and tell her to get her ass up there and take care of you.”

“No don’t do that. I’d much rather be with myself and my anger to make bracelets. I have a couple of people I need to talk to. That’ll help me get over this.” I reassure her.

“Don’t worry about Wilson. I’ll take care of him.” If I know Prudence, and I do, Wilson won’t know what hit him. “Make sure you put fresh cucumbers on your face. We don’t want that nasty swelling you get spilling over into tomorrow.”

We hang up and I schlep out of bed to get out what few beads I have left until the new shipment comes. I sit on the back porch taking in the fresh air. Beading helps my creative juices flow, which helps clear my mind.

I’m still going to Chicago and see the Mean Street Band play. I’ll still take Monk’s help, and I’ll still plan a girls’ night. If I see Bo, I’ll remind myself we don’t have a commitment or relationship. I refuse to let my heart get broken yet again by Bo Pomillio.

Week Eight

Bead Happy!

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Beading five hundred bracelets is my plan for the week. Letting Bo get me down is not in the forecast, neither is running.

I don’t have time to stop at Addy’s for my morning cup of coffee, so Starbucks near work is going to have to do.

“Two regular coffees, please.” I tell the barista and reach in my purse for my wallet.

“Aren’t you Hallie, the manager at Gucci?” A well-dressed young woman asks.

How does she know me? Probably from the news. I’m a local celebrity.

“Yes, I am.” I confidently smile. This is a good way to begin my week.

“I’m Sophia, the jewelry buyer for Saks,” she says. “I have been trying to get in touch with you all week long. I saw your piece on Fox News and Sheila buys some of her clothes from Saks.”

“Oh.” I wonder where this is going.

She waits while I order my two coffees., and hands a twenty-dollar bill to the barista.

“I’ll get these,” she says referring to my coffees.

“Wow, Sophia, that’s not necessary.”

Way necessary. New BFF Sophia. Where have you been these past eight weeks?

“I want to take some of your samples to the board meeting today. I think Beadnicks will go in our spring line.”

I put both cups of coffee down, afraid of third-degree burn due to me dropping them from shock.

Am I okay? No. This is big.

Compose yourself. Breathe, Hallie, breathe.

“I’d be honored to sit down and talk with you about Beadnicks and a spring line.”

We make an appointment during lunch.

Sophia and I walk over to Saks together. She asks me how I got started with beading, and where I’m going with it. I tell her about the boutiques in Chicago and how I plan on moving home in a few weeks. And my business will be fully run in Chicago because my accountant is there.

“What about Gucci?” She brings up a good point.  “You know this is going to be very lucrative for you?”

She looks at me the way Inas had looked at me. All-knowing, uncomfortably so.

I do. I have a feeling this is going to be bigger than I can imagine. The anticipation is building more, causing my insides to curl. My roller coaster mood is now on the best part of the ride.

It’s hard to keep a straight face when I see Beatrice. It’s a fine line doing Beadnicks business on Gucci time.

“Why do you keep checking your watch?” Beatrice asks.

She is trying to go over last week’s numbers as we do every Monday before the boutique opens, but I can’t keep my head in the game.

“I need to take lunch at eleven.” I try to keep my excitement in check.

“It’s only eight-thirty. I’ll let you know when it’s ten-forty five.” Beatrice’s eyes narrow in suspicion.

I wink at her and dig into the numbers.

After we dissect the numbers. I pick out a few key pieces for the boutique’s fall line when the call came. The call I’m not expecting to get at work.

“This is Hallie.” I speak in my chipper, oblivious voice. “How can I help you?”

“Why did you leave?” Bo’s voice sounds dreamy to my ears.

Stop! Red flag! Don’t fall for his tricks again.

“I had to get back for the fall line.” Lie, lie, lie.

He doesn’t like a liar, but I don’t like a cheater. “I’m a little too busy to discuss our personal relationship. Remember, we agreed, no commitment while I’m away.”

“I thought we connected and I was …. ” he stops and I wait. “I want to make sure you’re still coming up this weekend for the concert?”

Oh, yeah! You bet I am! I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Or are you asking for a little pre-planning time so Piper won’t be there?

“I hope to make it,” I say.

“Well, I want you to.” He insists. “I really want to see you there, Hallie. I’m a little confused. You don’t sound like the same person.”

“Listen, Bo,” I’ve got to get off the phone before I start crying and yelling at him. “I’m really busy and I can’t take personal calls here. Can I call you later?”

“I tried calling your cell and it’s turned off. As a matter of fact, it was turned off all day yesterday.”

Man, he’s good. He’s starting to make me wonder if my eyes are deceiving me. But since they’re making me some good deals on beading designs, I’m going to have to side with my eyes.

“Okay, then, bye.” I hang up.

I lay my head on my desk and don’t pick it up until the phone buzzes again. Albeit just thirty seconds later, but it does.

“This is Hallie.” I’m not going through the rigmaroles of the title I’m supposed to use when I answer the phone.

“Hey, girl.” Prudence’s voice is music to my ears.

She’s going to love my news. I let her in on Sophia and her idea for Beadnicks and Saks. I even think she’s jumping up and down because I can hear the clunk of her heels in a castanet kind of way.

“You need a lawyer,” she says. “Daddy is doing business there and Wilson is flying back with him. I’m going to draw up a few contracts with all the particulars. You’re going to fax me. And I mean fax me now. I’m going to be sitting next to you.”

It’s actually a great idea. Besides a plane ride from Chicago to Cincinnati is only forty five minutes. The legal side of the business never crosses my mind. I’m excited Saks has an interest. It’s never been about legality or money, until now.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

“Hallie, I hate to disturb you before you get ready for your lunch date, but a really fancy lady is here to see you.” Beatrice nervously bit her lip.

I throw my head back and start laughing. I forgot to tell Beatrice about Prudence.

“She claims she doesn’t need an appointment.” She hesitates.

I can totally picturing Prudence acting highfaluting.

“Head-to-toe Gucci?” I confirm.

“Yes.” Beatrice’s eyes pop open. She whispers, “Is she with corporate?”

“No. Best friend from Chicago, and a lawyer.” I don’t want to tell her about the meeting, but she latches on to it.

“Lawyer? Why do you need a lawyer?”I glance out to see Prudence holding items up to her waist.

“Listen, Beatrice, this is very serious.” I want to stress how important it is for her not to say anything and make sure she knows how much trouble I can get into with doing Beadnicks work on Gucci time. She grabs the edge of the desk waiting for she thinks will be dreadful.

But it’s just the opposite.

“Yea!” Beatrice does her famous snoopy dance around the office.

Prudence bursts through the door, ready to hurt someone. “What’s wrong?”

I sit on the edge of the desk, basking in the fun. Beatrice grabs Prudence and hugs her.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m so happy for Hallie.” She continues to dance around my office.

“Stop before you break your ankles in those four-inchers.” I point to her Gucci Drew high-heeled sandals with zip closure.

“I love those.” Prudence bends to inspect them a little closer.

“New line for the fall.” Beatrice points her toe to accentuate the shoe. “I’ve got connections.” She smiles at me.

“Prudence, Beatrice, Prudence.” I’ve never noticed how much their love for Gucci makes them more alike than not. “Beatrice is my assistant.”

“Assistant extraordinaire.” She is proud to be helping me out and I’m proud to help her out.

“What was all the noise?” Prudence asks and frees herself from Beatrice.

“Beatrice just found out why you’re here.”

“Oh.” She did a double take at Beatrice. I can tell she’s sizing her up to see if she’ll rat me out.

“Don’t worry. I haven’t done anything on company time. I’ve done a pretty good job of keeping them separate.”

“I hate to interrupt, but it’s almost eleven.” Beatrice rolls up on her tiptoes and hands me my purse. “I’ll have fresh coffee for the two of you when you get back.”

I look back and Beatrice holds her crossed fingers in the air.

“Wish us luck.” I gush, rushing out the door with Prudence hard on my heels.

We make it over to the board meeting just as they were getting back from lunch.

Sophia met us at the office doors in Saks.

“Ladies, I’m glad you found us okay.” She smiles. “You must be Prudence. Hallie told me her lawyer might be attending. It makes the bigwigs see that Beadnicks is a real operation, even though Hallie started it out of her home.” Sophia is all business with Prudence.

We follow Sophia and take a seat around a huge twelve-person conference table. All twelve, apparently, are needed to sign off on any deal. I’m glad I’ve got my one person, Prudence, on my side.

Once everyone sits down, Sophia asks me to give some background information on myself as well as Beadnicks. My life isn’t that exciting or fun, and by the looks of it, the suits feel the same way. It looks as though they want me to stand on my head and juggle balls with my feet.

Luckily, Sophia seems to understand. Her smile shows true sparkling happiness at the idea of what Beadnicks can bring to her counters.

“I want to share some of the statistics from the Channel 19 viewers when Sheila Gray wears Beadnicks.” Sophia hands out copies.

I have no idea how she got the statistics and I don’t care. The only thing I care about is that three out of five emails are about my single orange bracelet. And that’s from just the first broadcast, not since she’s been wearing the new stuff.

My mind and heart are fighting each other to see who can give me a freak attack first. How the hell am I going to keep up with all these orders?

All the suits look pleased with the stats on the spreadsheet in front of them.

“How long do you think this trend will last?” The suit closest to me asks. She snickers under her breath. “Do you think you can keep up with the David Yurmans of the world?”

I don’t like her attitude or the tone of her voice.

“Obviously you like Mr. Yurman by the bracelet you are wearing, but what about all the other people who can’t afford Mr. Yurman?” I point to her bracelet. “Or Gucci?” I use my hand to wave across my Gucci ensemble.

I continue on the attack.  “I have over four hundred orders from four different high-end Chicago boutiques before Saks came knocking on my door.” I pull out the copies of spreadsheets showing what I’ve already sold.

“I’m already selling out in a boutique in Hyde Park.” I start to distribute them one by one. “These reflect this fall’s colors, with the anticipation of a spring line. The orders are already streaming in, using spring colors and many new designs.”

“If you notice, Beadnicks and Fit Pregnancy joined forces on the fall fashion shoot, shot here on your own Fountain Square.” Prudence passes out the copies for each suit. “This will hit the shelves in two months. I can guarantee you a write-up on the copy that Saks here in Cincinnati provided the clothing from the Gucci boutique and Beadnicks jewelry featured in Saks.”

“What are you saying?” The stone cold suit asks Prudence.

“I’m saying that you’re going to make a grave mistake if you don’t consider a prime location in your jewelry case for Beadnicks and you’re going to be missing out on an excellent business opportunity.” Prudence picks up her briefcase and motions for me to follow her. “We will be anticipating your phone call. You will find our terms in the marketing packet Beadnicks has put together for you to be agreeable.”

Prudence leaves the business proposals in the middle of the table.

Sophia along with the other twelve suits watch us leave in silence. It’s a long silence that rang in my ears with a frightfulness I’ve never felt.

“Keep walking and don’t say a word.” Prudence’s heels clink as she struts down the hall of Saks, head held high with perfect posture in tow.

Her legs are so long, I have to run to keep up with her.

“What was that?” I slam the door to my office. “I think you just flushed my retirement down the toilet.”

I fan my face. It feels like it’s on fire.

“That’s how business is done, my dear.” Prudence pulls a bottle of champagne out of her bag and two plastic Dixie cups. “I wasn’t going to sit there and let little Miss Puritan tear apart something important to you. We don’t need Saks! We have Chicago and Nordstrom’s.”

Her eyes flash at the exact moment the cork darts across the room. “Woo-hoo!”

She pours a little champagne in my cup and a lot in her cup.

“Nordstrom’s?” I question.

She holds her flowered Dixie cup in the air. “Taking it to top!”

She chugs her champagne to my sip and refills her twice before I finish. Taking it to the top makes my insides tickle. This is the push I need to take Beadnicks to a whole new level.

Chapter Forty

Every night after work, I keep my mind busy by beading from the newest shipment of beads. If I don’t keep my fingers busy, I think they might have a mind of their own and dial Bo’s number. By the end of the week, I finish two hundred bracelets for the boutiques and fifty to replace the sold bracelets from One Bead at a Time.

When Friday rolls around, Henry is biting at the bit to go bye-bye.

Lucy strolls in the door like she’s been here this whole time. She walks over to my luggage next to the door and flicks the handle. “Where are we going?”

“Look what I-75 drug in,” I say, referring to the interstate between Cincinnati and Mason Crossing. “Nice of you to stop in your home.”

“Nice to see you haven’t changed with all your fame.” She inspects the bracelets on my arm. Not only does one bracelet look great, three together are unbelievably gorgeous. All the colors sparkle when the bracelets rub together, leaving a fun jingling sound.

“Where’s the stash? I’ll sort through what I want for myself.” She looks up at me, dropping my wrist. “What? You think I’m missing girls’ night in?” One thing about Lucy, she may be head over heels in love, but she never lets the girls down.

I smile and welcome her to a seat in the Solara. I’m glad I did, because the five-hour drive back to Chicago feels like a breeze with Lucy yammering on about her problems with Beck.

“I just don’t know what to do.” Lucy continues to talk out loud. “I can do my job in Kentucky, but do I want to move away from my friends and the life I’ve made for myself?”

“Tell me about it.” I mumble, “Trust me, I know all about up and moving.”

“Oh, Hallie, I’m so sorry.” Lucy twists sideways in her. “It’s strange how are lives are resembling each other.”

With my hands on the wheel and eyes straight ahead, I don’t comment. I don’t see a resemblance in our lives at all. She has two loving parents still walking on the earth. She was popular in high school. Her parents paid for her to go to college. And she has the world by the balls.

Me?

My parents were killed. I was sent to live with Aunt Grace, who made me wear hand-me-downs from someone I don’t know. She made me stand in line with her, once a month, at the free clothes store, which never ever had pants long enough to fit me. So not only was I not popular in school, I wore floods! When I did go to college, I had to apply for grants, scholarships and student loans that I’m still paying back.

But it’s good to have my best friend beside me. I don’t want to think about what my life will be like if she does move. It’s taking everything in my power not to tell her to stay with me. We’re like Jenny and Forest Gump, peas and carrots.

Still, her pain is real, and I listen—all the way home.

“Chicago hasn’t been the same without you girls.” Sam hugs us. It’s funny how we’ve become close with the doorman after living here for a couple years. Really, there is no other way, with him having to be the one all visitors have to go through. “When are you two coming home, for good?” He holds the door.

“I have one month. O-n-e.”

We both look at Lucy anticipating her answer.

“I don’t know. Maybe t-w-o.” Lucy spells it out mocking me.

The condo is warm and inviting as it always is. Lucy’s featherbed ruffles when she dives into it, with Henry right behind.  I search for my light switch because my Clapper is in Cincinnati. The city lights help as they shine through the window.

I stop and take in the view. Chicago is beautiful. I close my eyes and listen to the cars below, honking their horns. Did I really miss the noise? Or it was white noise all these years?

I haven’t thought about what I’m going to do. I don’t have the energy to waste on Bo. I want to focus all my energy on Beadnicks and making it the most successful thing in my life. Karma owes me and it’s my time.

I pull out my killer jeans. I’ve missed them. I hear the angels sing when I pull them out of the closet.

“Ah.” I smell my 7 for all Man Kind jeans.

Of course I had to have them when I saw them on Jennifer Aniston in People magazine. If I only looked as good as her.

“Let me pour myself into you.” I pat them like a fine fur.

I pair it with my white sequence tank, strappy silver heels and four original Beadnicks bracelets.  I’m ready to get back in the groove of my life.

The line to get in the bar is out the door. Bo has obviously gone all out to showcase The Mean Street Blues Band. The marquee lights flash the drink deals. This is crazy, I suddenly decide. There is no way I’m going to stand in line when I can enjoy myself in Cincinnati relaxing to the same smooth blues band at the Palour. I’ll just go back home and make some jewelry.

“Hallie!” Piper scream.

I cringe at the sound of her voice.

“Hallie!” she screams again.

I hear the clump of her heels running up behind me. There she is, peppy Piper all decked out.

“I didn’t know you were coming here this weekend. Why didn’t you tell me?” She tilts her head to the side like one of those high-spirited cheerleaders. She clasps her hands in delight.“Are you going to check up on me tomorrow?”

Technically I can do it since I’m the new regional and the thought of “checking up on her” gives me a little power, but I won’t waste my time.

“No. I am here to see the band.”

“Oh. Do you know them?” She acts left out of the loop. “Bo has really gone to great lengths for this.”

Of course he has. It’s torture standing here listening to her talk about him.

“Really?” I back up, trying to keep my distance from her as she creeps closer. I fall back on my heels and into a pair of arms.

“Oh!” Luckily the arms hold me tight.

“Hallie?” The lead singer of The Mean Street Band, is taking a smoking break outside and he remembers my name!. I couldn’t have scripted this better if I was Quentin Tarantino. “Why are you in this line?”

Piper ‘s jaw drops.

“Pick your mouth up, honey. Chicago streets aren’t that clean,” I say as I wave over my shoulder, walking behind the lead singer into the back entrance.

“Hey, thanks for bringing Bo in the Parlour that night. We’re having a blast.” He takes me by the arm and off we go. “He gave us a tour of Chicago last night and we’ve been hanging all day.”

I smile and watch him jump back behind the curtain to take his place on stage. I’m having the best luck lately! Maybe not with Bo, but the other parts of my life are pretty good. I look up to heaven and wink. Okay God, I might have some evil thoughts, but really thanks. Gratitude. That’s one thing my good Italian family left me.

“There you are.” Bo sneaks up behind me while I wait in line to pee. “The lead singer told me you were here and I’ve been looking all over.”

“Here I am.” I plaster my best fake grin as the anger swells up inside.

No commitment? Really? I was blowing smoke his way when I agreed to it. What red-blooded woman would agree to that? A desperate one, I tell myself.

“We need to talk.” He yells after me when it’s my turn for the bathroom.

I go in the bathroom to get away and stay in extra long, hoping he won’t be outside the door when I come out.

“Oops. Sorry, Monk.” The door almost whacks Monk in the head.

“Hey, how’s the bead thing going?” He genuinely looks interested. “Have you thought about anything I said?”

“I…” I mumble what I’ve done, but the noise level is so loud he can’t hear me.

“Come in my office.” I follow him back. Beer signs hang on the wall, along with and a framed poster autographed by the entire Van Halen group. “I thought you like blues?”

“Blues bar, Chicago, money.” He laughs. “I’m a rock guy. That’s why I’m not usually here at night.” He sits down on a red leather sofa. “Rock bar wouldn’t have made us the same money.”

“Wow, Monk. A different impression of you.” He’s still a little nerdy, but I like it. He offers me a glass of wine and I graciously take it.

Enjoying my drink, I tell Monk about the meeting with Saks, all the boutiques and my new tax ID.

“I’m proud of you.” He refills the glasses. “Let me know what I can do for you.”

We finish off our drinks with idle chit-chat about Cincinnati and The Mean Street Blues Band. I refrain from asking about Bo. He asks about the marathon. I refrain from asking about Bo. He asks if I’m going to run with the running group tomorrow. I refrain from mentioning Bo.

“It’s time for me to Bo … I mean go.” I point to the door. The wine is taking a toll on my speech. I head towards the door so he won’t see my red face.

“Hallie?” Piper looks me up and down from the other side of the door. “What are you doing in there?” She points inside and looks in to find Monk lounging on the sofa with his wine glass in hand.

I grin, leaving it all to her imagination.

As far as she and Bo are concerned, they know nothing about the arrangement Monk and I’ve set up and they don’t need to know. When she tells Bo what she thinks is going on, as I know she will, it’ll rot in his mind.

Chapter Forty-One

The sun peeking through my blinds confirms I survived another day.

I’m so confused.

I pull the covers back over my head to drown out the honking horns. I’m use to sleeping without interruption in my Hyde Park home or jogging down for a cup of coffee without getting run over by a taxi or dodging pedestrians on a crowded street.

Now, I’m embracing a life I’ve been running from. I groan and pull the covers back. I can’t just let Henry out and leave him. I actually have to drag myself out of bed and look halfway decent to take him on a walk.

The carpet is warm on my feet when they hit the floor and I search for my sweats and Henry’s leash. Walking him is a good way to clear my mind. Henry is definitely one little man I never envisioned in my life, but he is the only man in my life.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s go out.” Henry jumps up and down, knowing what’s in store for him. Having Henry these past few weeks has given me more responsibility. I have to make it home to let him out. I have to feed him and walk him. With everything I do, I have to take him into consideration.

When I get into the elevator, my image catches my eye.

I pause. My chest tightens.

Only eight weeks ago I looked at this same girl. Before my eyes, I can already see a difference the eight weeks has made in my life.

“I told you.” I remind the image of how this girl wasn’t come back the same. Only this time, my image isn’t sad or regretting the challenge.

Henry is a little hesitant from the zooming taxis. I love this city, but a tug for the quiet streets of Hyde Park makes me a little homesick.

How could it be? I shake the notion out of my head. There’s no way I’m longing to go back to the place I’ve spent my entire life trying to get out of.

Or am I?

I walk Henry around the block and decide to run by myself and not with the group.

I start uptown, leaving the group’s normal route opposite me. I don’t want to risk running into them. There’s more on my plate than Bo, and at this point, I need to stay away from him.

Of course there is no way I want to go back to my old life.

Shoo, I laugh out loud. I must’ve had a momentary lapse in judgment or early onset of Alzheimer’s. Really? Have I forgotten Aunt Grace’s and Uncle Jimmy’s last episode at the race track? The further away I am from them, the better.

This past week made me realize that if beading is going to pay off, I’m going to have to spend more time doing it. Not just nights and weekends. As much as I hate to think about my life without Gucci being in it, it’s a real possibility. Something I need to discuss with the girls over a few drinks.

I make a point to run past Addicted to the Bean. I want to grab a cup and head home to bead for the rest of the afternoon, but I take a little detour behind the coffee house to hide from my running group heading right towards me.

I’d know that Saturday shirt from anywhere!

My lungs expand with every shallow breath I take hiding behind the dumpster. I don’t make a peep. As they pass, I squint, focusing on the back of Bo’s head.

“Yep.” I whisper to myself, “he still has a beautiful head.”

Don’t, Hallie! Stop it right now! I stamp my feet to the ground because my clear head is cloudy. Again.

My mood quickly changes when I get home.

Lucy  expresses some interest in learning to bead and today will be as good a time as any, with neither of us having plans. We can sit on the balcony watching old movies just like old times. Today, we choose That Touch of Mink.

Lucy takes to beading like a duck to water, and we spend the day refocusing on our friendship. We are so focused, in fact, that I leave my phone turned off.

Chapter Forty-Two

“Hello.” Georgia opens the door to let us in for girls’ night.

“Dude, you are huge.” I pat my god baby in Georgia’s belly. “The baby, not you.”

“Get in here.” She pulls me in. “You’re not going to believe what I’ve got to tell you.”

We find Prudence in the family room twirling her finger around one of her curls.

“I say its pregnancy hormones.” Prudence already made Cosmos for everyone and stands up to hand them out. “Dan said she’s been crazy all day with news and won’t tell him either.” Prudence is referring to Georgia’s husband.

“It’s not pregnancy hormones. It’s excitement for all of us. This is going to change the course of your life.” She points directly at me with the sternest face I’ve ever seen.

Georgia’s face reminds me of Inas, the voodoo lady.

“Georgia honey.” I sit down next to her on the couch, and try to stay calm.“You’re scaring me.”

I’m uneasy and there’s a pit in my stomach. Whatever she’s talking about has to do with me. Does it have to do with Bo?

“What? What’s going to change my life?” I question her.

She paces back and forth in her family room. “I’ve had such good response for the new Gucci ad in Fit Pregnancy.” She doesn’t look at me or any of the other girls. “They love the jewelry and a few of the girls wants to order some bracelets.” She nods towards me.

“Okay, great.” My lip flinches. “Is that it? Is that the big news?”

“I’m not done.” She rubs her belly and quits me with her hand, “One of the girls took the ad home. Her sister works for Harpo magazine. She took the ad to work to show off your jewelry and O Magazine wants to feature your bracelets in ‘my favorite things’ O magazine in December!”

“What? What!” I scream, jumping up and down.

My life just took a turn, not a nice sweet curve, but a big V curve going 200 mph.

Suddenly I’m scared and feel like throwing up.

“What?” Georgia puts her arms around me. “This is what you need to get on the map with your jewelry.”

“I don’t know.” I rub my hands together finding it hard to find the words to describe my feelings. “It’s real now. I’m scared.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Prudence stands up and puts her arms around me and Georgia.

“You have us.” Lucy stands up with the vodka bottle. “And Mr. Goose.”

With a few more details and a couple shots, we start talking about the first trip we are going to take on my newfound money. It’s funny how life works. I guess this is what bittersweet means. Bitter in the love department, but super duper sweet in the success department.

Chapter Forty-Three

Before Lucy and I drove back to Cincinnati, the girls help finish another one hundred on our O Magazine high. Even though we were a little tipsy, the bracelets turned out great.

Monk’s questions have been playing over and over in my head. Are you ready to take it to the next level or is it just a fun hobby?

I’m ready.

The next level isn’t going to be a hobby, nor will it be as much fun. It’ll a job and I’m going to have to treat it as such. What’s going to happen when the Fit Pregnancy ad hits or if and when O magazine calls me? Am I up for the task to make more, if people want more? And, oh, God, what if they don’t want more? What if these ads hit and nobody calls?

I’m going to have to take a leap of faith. A big leap.

The bead shipment is stacked up next to the door when we pull up from our fabulous weekend in Chicago. Seeing Beadnicks and my tax ID on the labels feel good, real good. The drive home gave me time to think about my future. I want to bead, I want to be successful at it, and now I’m on my way.

I have three weeks left on my Gucci contract. I have five days to ship more than four hundred pieces of jewelry to Chicago by week’s end. And now, I have Aunt Grace calling.

“Hi, Aunt Grace.” I start to open another package of beads.

“You are psychic just like your…”

I interrupt her.

“My mother?” I haven’t talked to Aunt Grace since the entire horse-racing crap. I only answer out of obligation.

“I knew you were special when you were born. You’re gonna live a long life just like me.”

“No, God, please don’t do that to me.” That will be a really cruel joke on me. Alone, no kids, no cats, but beads. Lots and lots of beads.

“Now you know I wouldn’t call unless I need you.” I sit in silence waiting for her to blurt out whatever she has to spring on me.

“Are you still mad about the horse thingy with Jimmy? Because if you are, I can let you go.” Aunt Grace waits for my answer and when I don’t give one she continues. “Or you can forgive him? He is family, you know.”

I do know! Family that will screw you and your friends out of thousands of dollars and if that isn’t enough, embarrass the shit right out of you by climbing a flagpole and kissing the eagle at the top on the nose. That’s what I know!

“No, I’m not mad. I’m trying to work on something.” I lie, because she can’t help Uncle Jimmy’s actions. “You have my full attention. What’s your favor?”

“We have these bugs,” she continues, “and the state is going to condemn our building if we don’t get it taken care of.”

No? Really? Tell me something I don’t know.  Then I cringe. She’s going to ask me for money. It would be better if they bomb the place.

“How much?” I brace myself against my table.

“We don’t need money. We need a place to stay for a couple nights.”

STOP! I. WILL. GIVE. MONEY.

I’ve got it. I’ll put them up in a hotel. I’ve got a little more money left on my Visa. It’s a good cause, right?

“The Cincinnatian is close to you. What about staying there?” I’m a genius, happy and I just dodged a bullet. It might be the most expensive hotel in downtown, but well worth it in this case.

“I don’t think you understand. We don’t want to stay with strangers. We want to stay at your house for a couple days.”

I have to sit down. I am, for sure, going to pass out.

She keeps rambling and sputtering words I can’t comprehend in my current state of mind. “Hallie? Dear?”

“Hhh…” I clear my throat because it isn’t coming out. “How long?”

“Just a few days.” She sounds confident in it only being a few days. “The entire building has to be clear of all tenants, but they have to find their own place to go. If they weren’t so dirty, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

If they weren’t dirty? Hello, pot, this is kettle calling. I prepare for the aftershocks that my body is going to have when these words leave my mouth.

“You can stay here.” It’s out like daggers being thrown into the air. I hold onto a little bit of hope she’ll say no.

“You are the sweetest child. We’d love to. Can you come now?”

Of course I’m the sweetest child. Or is it my time to pay her back for taking me in? I’m quickly beginning to remember why I’ve spent most of my life getting out of this city.

I slip on a pair of flip-flops, and get in my car to head south.

Apparently, now isn’t soon enough. She calls seven times before I get there. They are standing on the curb waiting as I pull up. I put their plastic grocery overnight bags in the trunk. Again, no bugs in my house.

“Slow down.” Uncle Jimmy has one hand on the dash with the other tightly grasping the door strap. I speed up. His actions at the track still have me angry and making him a little uncomfortable gives me a tiny bit of evil pleasure. “I wouldn’t learn how to drive in this day and age. This is exactly why we see car wrecks. All the fancy cars going fast.” Uncle Jimmy rants and raves the entire fifteen-minute drive, only causing my right foot to press down harder.

“Very nice.” Aunt Grace refers to my little Hyde Park cottage. “I really like your home away from home.”

Uncle Jimmy growls under his breath and I ignore him all the way up to Lucy’s room. He’s walking a thin line and he better be on his best behavior. Besides, I haven’t even told Wilson about this yet.

Thankfully, Lucy went back to Mason Crossing as soon as we pulled in from Chicago. She couldn’t wait to see Beck. But she’ll die when she finds out about Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy staying in her room.

“Listen,” Aunt Grace takes my hand, “did you put all the china and silver away. If he sees it, he’ll steal it back.”

The china is still in my Prada bag in the back of the Solara. I’m not messing with bugs and keeping them in a hot Prada bag in the trunk of my car for the summer will be a nice slow death sentence. I smile, not revealing my secret.

I get their plastic bags and empty them on the cobblestone walk to inspect them for cockroaches.

“What are you doing with our undergarments left out for the world to see?” Uncle Jimmy is angry. He grabs his things and stuff them in the plastic garbage bags. “Grace, get out here. She’s gone and showin’ the world our things.”

I stand back listening to him curse and scramble. He flings the door open. I jump back and see the disappointment on Aunt Grace’s face.

“What?” I ask.

I might’ve been a little disrespectful. Doesn’t she understand I don’t want to fumigate my house too.

She puts her head down in shame. Shame in me, not in her.

“What?” I ask with a little guilt. “You said you have bugs. I don’t want bugs in here. I just rent from Wilson.”

Aunt Grace goes upstairs to check on Uncle Jimmy. It’s late and I don’t want to face Aunt Grace. I’m ashamed of myself. I see the disappointment in her eyes and I can feel the lack of gratitude in my heart.

Week Nine

He who has the most beads…WIN!

Author Unknown

Chapter Forty-Four

“You do this every morning?” Aunt Grace startles me sitting on the front porch when I get back from my run, with her barely-there hair, fox stole, red curly wig and Beadnicks bracelets up to her elbows.

I roll my eyes, I’m going to waste precious time cleaning them.

“Where did you get these?” I rub my hands up her arm, fearing she has opened one of the sealed boxes ready for shipment that’s sitting by the door.

“I asked you a question about this.” She points to my running outfit. “Not these.” She acts like a hand model and gently rubs the back of her hand down from her elbow to stopping shy of her wrist.

I reach over and take them off of her one by one.

“Yes, I run. You know that and I’m still training for the marathon.” I swear she has twenty of them on. I poke the fox’s nose. “Why are you out here and all dressed up?”

“You’re living in a fancy neighborhood.” She caresses the fox. “I’m dressing the part. When in Rome.” She stands up to follow me inside and visibly a little wobbly.

My mom always said, “Hallie, don’t mess with crazy. It will get you nowhere.” I’m listening to her today.

“How’s it feel to live where you’ve always wanted to live?”

“What do you mean?” I act like I don’t know what she’s talking about.

Aunt Grace catches me off guard. I can’t compare my past life with my real life. Besides, she’s done the best she can.

“You always wanted to live uptown.” She follows me to the kitchen.

“I didn’t pick the house. It’s where my company put me.” I don’t want to admit how excited I am that they rented me a house in Hyde Park.

I get a cup of coffee and keep an eye on her at the same time. She walks around looking at the appliances in awe. She touches the Breville blender as if it will burst in flames if she gets too close. The toaster oven door creaks as she opens it.

She isn’t used to living this way. A clean, tidy home. As far back as I can remember, her house has always been the same. Fun and mysterious, as a child. Dreadful, as an adult.

“I bet your parents are proud of you, Hallie.” Aunt Grace daintily takes the cup and put it up to her nose to smell. The hot steam dances in the air as she sips. “Ah. That’s a good cup of coffee.” She sits down at the table next to me. She’s more unstable than I’ve ever seen her.

“Aunt Grace, how is your health?” A sudden ping of fear stabs my heart.

“Honey, I’m ninety-two years old.” She sorts through the bracelets lying on the table. “What’s this all about?”

We change the subject to my beading success. I’m proud to tell her. I’d like her to see that she successfully raised me.

“I must admit, they are lovely.” The wealthy woman Aunt Grace was in her early years begins to shine through. She turns her head and stares off into the distance. “I used to wear beautiful jewelry.”

I can tell she’s picturing another place, another time.

“Embrace life, Hallie. You never know where it’s going to take you.” There is something in her voice that makes me think she’s hiding something.

We talk a little longer before I have to get ready and go to work. I leave them there in confidence my house will still be standing when I get home tonight.

Wilson busts through my office door, with Beatrice behind him.

“What are those people doing in my house, Hallie?” His face is red with anger. “I walk upstairs in my underwear to find Aunt Grace stroking a dead animal and Uncle Jimmy in a pink robe.” He hovers over my desk ready to pounce.

“Lucy is going to kill me.” I’m so glad it’s Wilson who saw him in Lucy’s pink robe and not me. “You weren’t home when it all went down and…”

He isn’t paying attention to me. He’s looking at Beatrice who walked in to see who he is and why he barged in.

“What?” He’s nasty to Beatrice. “Yeah! What?”

Beatrice hangs her head and shuts the door.

“Wilson, was that nice? No.” I walk over to the door. “Which is now. Goodbye.”

“I don’t think so. We have a little issue to discuss. Crazy one and crazy two.” He holds up two fingers.  “And why they’re in my house?”

He stands between me and the door. He’s not about to budge.

“Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy are staying with me for a couple nights while their apartment building gets sprayed for bugs.” I walk around him to open the door. “You stay in your apartment and I’ll stay in mine for the next few days. Or I’ll have to call the landlord.” I smile, and open the door.

“Very funny, Hallie.” He walks out and turns around. “I’m not happy about it.”

“You don’t have to be. They aren’t your houseguests.” I shut the door before he can get in another word.

Chapter Forty-Five

Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy stay out of my way most of the time when I’m home. They eat before I get home and retreat to watch TV in the bedroom. I finish all the jewelry by midweek and FedEx them Wednesday night with a different proposal drawn up by Prudence in each one.

Saks hasn’t called and I fear Sophia is avoiding me. Nothing is happening with O magazine or Bo. The two major things I want to happen.

“It’s a girl.” Georgia calls just in time to bring me out of my funk. “A girl!”

“Way to go, Georgia.” I can’t imagine how she’s going to dress that poor baby. “Swear to me right now and if you were here, I would make you put her hand on a Bible. Both hands!”

“Swear to what? You know I don’t swear.”

“Swear you will not become one of those parents on Toddler and Tiaras.” I’m not joking when I refer to the hooky show about mothers and their itty-bitty mini-me’s followed by cameras through their journeys as child beauty queens. I’m obsessed with that show.

Living alone leaves the door open for some interesting television.

“With godmothers like you girls, she’ll be well rounded without a word from me.” She laughs. “Toddler and Tiaras. Something to think about.”

“Swear, Georgia!” I belt through the phone.

“Okay, I swear. I need to go call the other god mommies.”

“I’m the first you called?” Wow! What an honor.

“You are.” She confirms.

“I’m the favorite. I knew it.” I jump up and down.

“You’re first in the alphabet in the phone.”

“Sure I am.” Still pumping my fists in the air. “I’m the favorite.” I sing into the phone way off-key until I hear the click.

The phone rings immediately after she hung up.

“I knew it! I am the favorite.” I answer it.

“Excuse me?” The voice isn’t Georgia. In fact, I’ve never heard this voice.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.” I bit my lower lip. “Who is this?”

“I’m looking for Hallie Mediate.”

Crap! I think I forgot to pay my Chase bill. Do I fess up or do I say I’m not here?

“This is her.” I gather enough confidence to continue.

I thumb through my bills on the kitchen counter and try to ignore Uncle Jimmy, who’s become accustomed to Lucy’s robe. And, if I must say, he doesn’t look all that bad in pink.

“My name is Judith Light. I’m a jewelry buyer for Nordstrom in Chicago.” Her words blur from there. “I understand you made some jewelry that might interest me.”

Uncle Jimmy is sitting at the table with a glass of vodka. I sit across from him, take his glass, and gulp it down. I don’t care what disease I may get from it.

“I….” Uncle Jimmy, as if on cue, fills my or dare I say our glass again. I take a big swig and hand it to Uncle Jimmy, who takes a bigger swig. “I am flattered that you called. How did you hear about me?”

I try to sound professional, but with my squeaky voice, it’s hard to do.

Wilson bolts up the steps, slamming the basement door.

He wiggles his finger between the two of us. “We need to talk. Now.”

I try to shush him and focus on Judith Light.

“It doesn’t matter. I understand you are away on business and won’t be back for three weeks. When you get home, I want you to give me a call.” She followed up with her information.

I happily abide and take down her number along with another swig of Uncle Jimmy’s drink of choice. I hang up the phone and walk downstairs in a trance.

“They have to go!” Wilson points to his ceiling, referring to Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy. “You said a couple nights. It’s been three.” He holds up two fingers. “Two equals a couple.”

“I thought they were keeping to themselves. I have all their television shows written out for them, all their food laid out. What possibly can they be doing to aggravate you?” I’m baffled.

“This.” He holds up a long piece of wood. “You don’t know what this is, do you?”

Slowly I say no, and keep my eye on him just in case he is going to bash me over the head with it. I must admit my reflexes are a little off at the moment. Those couple swigs of vodka and the call from Judith Light are having an effect.

“It’s the bottom part of the guest bedroom door. Or as you refer to it, Lucy’s bedroom door, aka Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy’s temporary home.” Gently he places it back on the floor next to the couch, like a weapon.

I can’t hold my laughter in. I snort with delight.

“Are you losing your mind? Have you been hanging around them too long?” Wilson shouts. “I came home to Uncle Jimmy sawing it off. He took the door off the hinges, took the door outside and sawed it off because he doesn’t like the way it drags the carpet when he opens or closes the door.” He reaches down and picks it up again. “Three inches, Hallie. Now there is a huge gap between the floor and the door. Three inches, to be specific. Doesn’t he realize the carpet is a rug?”

I don’t laugh or say a word. I march upstairs to find Uncle Jimmy refilling our bonding glass.

“Get upstairs and get your things. You’re going home.” He doesn’t protest. He gets up and goes upstairs. “You can keep the robe.”

We drive in silence back to their building. Luckily the extermination is complete and everyone can move back in.

With her head hung low, Aunt Grace follows Uncle Jimmy into their apartment building. I’ve had enough.

What happened to three quiet months away? It’s been anything but that. My secret crush on Bo did crash and burn. My favorite job is now a chore. My beading hobby is consuming every ounce of free time. My girlfriends are going in different directions. My running … well, my running is down the drain. At least I have Henry.

On my way home from taking Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy home, I drive through Hyde Park and notice light on at One Bead at a Time. Through the window I can see Dee cleaning. I pull into a parking space in front of the store and park.

“Need some help?” I open the door.

I’m more than willing to clean because there is no way I can go home and relax after my evening.

She throws a cleaning rag at me. “Go for it. What’s got you wound tight?”

I tell her about Judith Light, and my problem with Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy.

“What are you going to do?” Dee is separating the beads back into their appropriate bins.

“I'm going to give Gucci my full twelve weeks here. That is all I committed to.” I help gather the trash bags around the tables. “Do you think I have the talent to pull this off?”

Doubt creeps in. This is the first time in my life I’ve to rely on myself for a paycheck, not a corporation.

“Are you kidding me?” Dee put her arm around my shoulders. “I saw the talent the first day you strung that one bead. I wouldn’t have asked you to sell your designs in my store if I thought they were bad.” She sprays down the tables and wipes them off. “And to think it all started here.”

It feels good to hear a compliment after the day I’ve had. “You do know your name is in the magazine’s advertising section from the photo shoot?”

The delight is apparent. “Looks like you need to be making me some new jewelry.” We work in silence for the next few minutes.

“I’m going to tell people I taught you everything you know. I might even go on the Jerry Springer show.”

“Truth be told, this wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for your encouragement. Thank you.” It’s important for her to know how much she means to me. “I’m forever indebted to you.”

A knock on the glass echoes. We look over at the teenager with her hands pressed up against the clean glass.

The clock on the wall reads nine at night, which isn’t too late for the group of teenagers to be out in the square on this warm summer night.

“I was walking by and noticed you were here,” she says. “I want to order a bracelet and see if you can have it done by next week. It’s my mom’s birthday gift.”

“Hold on.” I go back in and scribble my name and number on a piece of paper. “This is my address, stop by. I want to talk to you too.”

She takes the paper and rips it in half.

“This is my number in case you need it.” She quickly writes it down. “See you soon.”

Natalie.

She looks like a Natalie with her long dark eyelashes and black hair. In fact she kind of reminds me of the actress Natalie Wood.

I watch her run down the street, catching up with the group of girls near the fountain. I notice her short orange Adidas shorts, gray tank, tennis shoes and long dark ponytail. Just a normal teenager.

“What’s was that?” Dee put the sweeper away.

“She has a cool idea for a bracelet that we are going to discuss.”

Even though I trust Dee, I keep my ideas to myself. I have a few designs specifically for moms that I need to work on. It would be perfect for Natalie’s gift to her mom.

Chapter Forty Six

“There’s nothing we can do to keep you?” Charlie asks after I told him I won’t be returning to Gucci after my twelve weeks are up.

“No, sir.” The lump in my throat is bigger, almost cutting my airway off. I know Beatrice is a great replacement. I’ve trained her to the best of my ability. Charlie isn’t quite sold, however.

“I agree she’s come a long way,” he says, “but this is her first job with us and she needs to know the company inside and out.”

“Sir, if you think I know everything about Gucci, I’d love for you to meet Beatrice in person. She’s a quick learner and knows more than I do. Even the International line.”

It’s true. She’s been telling me what Europe and Italy are doing. I shoo her in my office, shut the door so they can talk, and man the phones in her absence. Buttons here, buttons there, green ones, red ones. I have no idea what to do. I just push the blinking ones.

“Gucci boutique, this is Hallie. How can I assist you?” This is actually a little fun.

I would never be able to be Miss Happy Go Lucky all the time, but for the moment it’s entertaining me.

“First, you can have dinner with me.” My heart skips a beat hearing Bo’s voice. “Next week, I am coming to work on the Burger Beer deal. What do you say?”

“Um…” I stutter.

He completely catches me off guard. There is a week to plan and come up with a smart-ass dig and put everything out there on the line. Set the boundaries as running partners only.

“Sure,” I say. I don’t tell him about me leaving Gucci. I’m sure Piper will do enough talking for all three of us. “Give me a call when you get in town and we’ll take it from there.”

The other blinking lights, on the phone, is a good excuse for me to get off. The longer he talks, the less angry I am at him.

Beatrice can’t thank me enough when she gets of the conference call with Charlie.

“I think I am going to explode.”

“Out of all the associates I’ve worked with over the years, you deserve this.” I take both of her hands in mine.

Beatrice is on cloud nine the entire day. The boutique is busy. We ended the day on a good note with a lot of sells.

I take my time driving to Hyde Park. When I pull into the driveway, I’m shocked to not only see Lucy, but she’s pulling weeds out of the flower bed.

“Lucy?” I question.

There are dead leaves crumbled in her hair when she looks back at me. I sit down next to her in the grass. This is obviously a time for an intervention.

Henry scratches on the door when he hears my voice. He bounds out into Lucy’s lap when I open the door, giving her kisses.

“Luce, what’s wrong?” I place my hand on her back.

“I think it’s over,” she whispers under her breath and looks up with her red puffy eyes. “Beck and I are over. He really is going to stay in Mason Crossing.”

“I’m sorry.” I wish I had more words to comfort her.

“I don’t want to move back there and become my parents. Why in the world would I want to do that?” She’s sobbing now.

“I wouldn’t want to be your parents either, but why would you have to be?” I pick a few dandelions, toss them out into the yard.

I can’t imagine Lucy cooking and running the vacuum each night, which is exactly what her mom does. I love her mom and she’s been a second mom to me, but she’s a little too June Cleaver.

“You need to put some distance between you and Beck. You need to go home and work. You’ll make the right decision on your time, not Beck’s, not your parents. Yours.” I reassure her.

“I‘m going back to Chicago tomorrow morning.” There is firmness in her voice.

I follow her inside as she gets her suitcase. She’s reached the stage in her life where the road is splitting off. She is sad, but strong, at the same time.

I rush down the stairs when the doorbell rings. I forgot about Natalie coming by to talk with me a little more about her idea for her mom’s birthday present.

She has six siblings with six different birthstones. Her idea is amazing. She wants simple seven-millimeter sterling silver beads with each of their birthstones evenly sprinkled throughout the bracelet.

Genius. Why haven’t I thought of that for moms?

“Natalie, you are amazing.” I look at the design I had sketched in my notebook. “We can definitely come up with it. Plus I’m going to show you how to do it.”

Natalie looks up and smiles. “I was hoping you could show me. I want her to know I made it and came up with the idea.”

I’m envious of Natalie. She has her mom, dad and siblings to go home to. She loves her family. It makes me think of Aunt Grace.

She is my family and the image of her walking with her head down into her apartment building is weighing heavy on my mind. She doesn’t look in the best health and I know I should treat her better I do, but sometimes she pushes my buttons the wrong way. Unfortunately it never ends with her.

“I was wondering,” I say, “if you want to work for me.”

Natalie is mature for her age, but fun and has an eye for fashion, which is proven in the short shorts, tight t-shirt, scarf wrapped around her neck, long knee socks and Chuck Taylor tennis shoes with a slew of Beadnicks bracelets she wearing.

“I’d love to!” She jumps at the chance. She is fidgeting with her bracelets. “I love your jewelry. What will I do, sort the beads? Where is the store going to be?”

She is talking and asking questions faster than I can process them.

“Hold up.” I put my hand in front of her. “Actually in a couple weeks I’ll be moving back to Chicago. I plan on keeping Dee supplied with bracelets, the simple ones we have in the store. I need your eyes to tell me what’s going on in the fashion world and what teenagers are looking for. I’m also talking with Nordstrom’s and Saks about carrying a spring line. That means I’ll need lots of ideas and maybe a few trips to Chicago. Plus you can make your own designs and we can market to teens.”

Natalie is a big part of Beadnicks’ success with the teenage population here. Plus her mother’s bracelet is a no-brainer. I would’ve never come up with the idea since I don’t have a mom to make any jewelry for.

My mom.

What constitutes my mom? Aunt Grace stepped in as my mom on a second notice. No one ever asked her if she wanted me. She never once let me go hungry. Why haven’t I made Aunt Grace a bracelet?

“I think I want to make one for each of my four sisters. They’d love to have a birthstone bracelet.” Natalie’s voice brings me back from my thoughts.

The bracelet Natalie has in mind for her mom is an easy bracelet. In fact, it’s the easiest bracelet I’ve ever made. It’s a good starting bracelet, especially for a teenager. Straight circular beading on wire.

“Birthstone bracelet.” I think about marketing it just as that. “I can call these birthstone bracelet for teenagers and mother’s bracelet for the moms.”

She agrees, and we have several bracelets made in just under an hour.

I want to call her parents and set up a meeting so I can share my ideas about Natalie and the future of Beadnicks in Cincinnati. If I’m going to be in two cities, I’ll definitely need her help. She’s going to be an integral part to the teen line and the mother bracelet idea I have.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Training Beatrice is a lot smoother than I thought it would be.  It’s embarrassing, how she’s always been two steps ahead of me.

“I must confess.” she says, shying  away in a little-girl way, “I took the reports home last night and scoured every inch and detail. I want to do a good job. I want to become a buyer and move to New York and onto Italy.”

I often dreamed of becoming a buyer for Gucci. I would lay in bed with a sketch pad and design clothing and jewelry. I just didn’t realize it was going to be my jewelry line. I laugh.

“Thoughts become things, so choose the good ones.”

I can see Beatrice thinking about that for a second.

“Thoughts become things,” she says, taking it in, “so choose the good ones. That’s good.” She scribbles it down on her pad.

During lunch, I take my mother’s bracelet idea to the local hospital. What better way to get to a new mother than through their bundle of joy?

Think about it, everyone who has a baby gets a gift. Usually a shitty gift from the gift shop. You know, the ceramic blue or pink booties with a couple flowers in it, or the bear dressed in a pink or blue shirt.

What if a Beadnicks mommy bracelet is an option? The child is born in July, so they can buy the ruby mommy bracelet. Who will want flowers when they can get a Beadnicks bracelet for a little more money?

I walk into the gift shop and don’t see any jewelry for a new mom. There are several different breast cancer items, and angel bracelets, but no baby jewelry.

Within minutes, I have, Eloise, the manager of the gift shop, in the palm of my hands. She calls the labor and delivery manager to come down to talk to me.

“This is a great idea.” They agree with each other. Eloise looks at the labor and delivery nurse manager. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yes.” The nurse manager says, “We give away bags filled with coupons and samples to all new families. We can put your business card in each bag stating they can get one in our gift shop.” Evidentially, they’ve been trying to come up with new gifts for new moms. “We don’t have great gifts for new moms and these will sell.”

My phone vibrates. I look at it to see if it is Beatrice. It’s Bo. I push ignore and send him to voicemail. Hopefully sending him to voicemail will send him a message.

“What if I come up with a postcard brochure, elegantly done, of course? I will get your opinion before we mass-print them and use those. That way the new mom can see a picture of an actual bracelet.”

The deal is done.

Bo calls again. This time I answer.

“Hello?”

My heart still sinks every time his name pops up on my phone. I want to tell him off, I want to let him know that I know his little Piper secret.

“If I didn’t know better, I think you’re avoiding me.” He nervously laughs. “I’m coming into town tonight and I want to see you.”

Tonight? How am I going to come up with a payback scheme in a couple hours?

“Hallie?”

“I’m here.” I want to get him out of my mind.

“I heard. You’re doing fantastic.” Monk probably told him that I asked for advice. “Piper told me you gave notice at the boutique.”

Piper.

“Pick me up at eight? You know where I live.” I’ll definitely have a plan in a couple hours.

There is just one more stop I need to make before I go back to work.

“Aunt’s upstairs.” Uncle Jimmy sweeps the stoop without looking at me. Or maybe it’s just me not wanting to face the fact that threw them to the curb.

I slink upstairs with the smell of shame all over me. The odor isn’t as bad as it usually is. Maybe the debugging worked and left a nice smell to boot.

However, Aunt Grace’s number still hangs by a thumbtack. Carefully, I tap on the right side of the number and watch it flap up and down.

“Hallie.” Good old Aunt Grace is just as happy to see me as always. She has her hands outstretched in front of her. No matter how much I’ve wronged her, she always makes it right.

I fall into her like a young child. Her arms are comfort for me today. I need her to forgive me for the way I’ve treated her.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Aunt Grace’s embrace becomes tighter. No matter how hard I have always pushed her away, she squeezes harder.

“Nothing.” I pull away and take the bracelet out of my pocket. “I’m on my way back to work and I want to give you a bracelet I made for you.”

The emerald mommy bracelet sparkles in the dull hallway light. Aunt Grace’s smile is even brighter.

“It’s emerald.” I want to make sure she knows the stone.

“Yes, I know. Your birthstone.”

She whispers as I put it on her arm. “It’s beautiful, Hallie. I love it.”

“I’m glad.” I roll it around on her wrist. “I want you to be the first mom with a Beadnicks mother’s bracelet.”

It looks good against her small wrist.

It’s my way of telling her I recognize her as my mother. She gets it.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Tears gather in the corner of her eyes. But I’m not ready to go there with her.

I squeeze her shoulders. “I love you and I hope you enjoy it.”

“Oh, I will.” She is still ogling the bracelet when I leave.

I call Wilson as I trot down Aunt Grace’s stairs. I have a favor. A big one he needs to be in on, and it involves Bo.

He is reluctant at first. Luckily, with a little coaxing and holding one little Prudence over his head, he decides to go along with my plan.

Uncle Jimmy and I do a very nice job ignoring each other. He glares at me as I tell Wilson I’ll be home after work.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Bo once told me how much he likes my hair down. I look in the mirror and make sure that every last hair is in place. I go over the plan with Wilson so he knows it, in and out. He assures me he does.

I dress in an extremely short, tight short-sleeved dress with high heels that accentuate my legs. My underarms are sweating so much I pull the old model trick of putting a mini pad in my armpit. If my plan works, I won’t be in this dress for long.

After I hear a car door shut, I look out and Bo is walking up to the front porch with an armload of daisies. Orange ones that happen to be my favorite. He thinks he’s going to work me. Well, I’ve got news for him.

Wilson opens the door as I’m walking down the stairs.

“This is where Hallie lives, right?” Bo is unsure he’s at the right house. He sticks his head back out the door and looks up at the numbers on the overhang.

“Hi, Bo.” I walk up, letting Wilson put his arms around me and lightly kiss me on the lips. “This is Wilson.”

Wilson sticks his hand out to shake Bo’s. But Bo’s cold demeanor doesn’t allow him to shake back.

“Hallie, can I see you outside?” His hand with the bouquet of daisies falls towards the ground.

“Sure.” I agree, knowing I just hit him below the belt with my actions. “I’ll be right back, babe.” I look up at Wilson with an evil grin signaling his efforts have paid off, and give him a peck on the cheek.

Bo watches, and takes a step back out on the front porch, leaving little room between me and the door. His tender eyes turn into a raging bull, his eyebrows bent into a V leaving making him look like he smells something really foul. He does, another lie from me.

“Ready for dinner?” I question him while pulling down the hem of my dress.

“Is he why you have been distant the past couple week?” Bo drops his head, “Were you seeing him this whole time?”

If I didn’t know better, I think there is a tear in his eye.

“Now, Bo,” I say, and play the coy card on him. “No commitment, remember? Ready for dinner?”

“Are you serious?” Bo’s disgust shows all over his face. He drops the daisies. “Maybe you aren’t the girl that has been running with me for the past couple years. Maybe you aren’t the girl who I’m really proud of. I know you’re not the girl I’ve been falling in love with.”

He walks to the car, and doesn’t looks back.

I watch with a bitter look and taste in my mouth.

“Did it work?” Wilson opens the door behind me after Bo drives off. “Hallie? Did the plan work?”

“Yes,” I say in a soft voice and let the tears flow down my face.

I pick up the flowers and take them upstairs. Smelling them, I lay them next to my bed. I put on his Sunday shirt and run my fingers along his note.

“Goodbye, Bo.” I put my head down on the pillow. I’ve hurt him just like he hurt me. The only difference is I spare him. I didn’t tell him I know about him and Piper. Piper transfers
me to get me out of the way. He uses me when he is in town. He deserves to be hurt. Or is he relieved he doesn’t have to pretend that we never slept together when I come home? Really, I save us both the trouble.

Week Ten

Sit down, shut up and bead.

Found on the wall in a bead store.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Not hearing from Saks, Nordstrom’s or O magazine, combine with Bo, puts me in a really bad mood that even Beatrice can’t get me out of. I should be happy with the hospital deal. And the four boutiques love their shipment and have sold more than anticipated.

Natalie’s parents agree to let her work the Cincinnati market, and I offer her a good wage.

“I’ve missed you,” Addy says as she cleans after dinner/dessert crowd, and makes a fresh pot of coffee. “You haven’t been running?”

“I’ve been busy with the beads.” The exhaustion of working two jobs—three, really—is beginning to take its toll on me. The past few mornings I’ve had to drag myself out of bed to get ready. “Plus, I’ve been training a girl from work because I’m moving back home next weekend.”

I can’t believe I only have one more week left. It’s gone by so fast. Sadness blankets my heart to think I’m going to have to leave Addy, Dee, Wilson, Beatrice and Hyde Park Square.

“We sure are going to miss you around here.” Addy throws Henry a treat.

“I’m sure someone new will come along shortly after to keep you company.” I laugh, sipping my java and trying to sort my feelings out in my head.

“You’re going to be famous and I can say I poured her coffee,” Addy says.

“I’ll send you an autograph.” I laugh, secretly wishing her words will come true.

Henry and I walk out Café Beginnings. I smile up at the green house that’s embraced me over the past three months.

“Wilson?” I yell down the stairs after Henry goes traipsing to find him. “Coming down.”

“Hey.” He is putting some clothes in a duffle bag. Henry’s nose is dug all the way down in it.

“Whatcha doing?” I ask in my best little kid voice.

“I haven’t taken a vacation in over five years.” He’s shoving all kinds of things in. Just like a man, taking perfectly clean clothes and throwing them in without folding them.

“I’m going to take the next two weeks and visit Prudence. We are going to go sightseeing and hang around the city.” He zips the bag and slings it over his shoulder.

“That’s great. I’m surprised Prudence is going to take off work.”  I’ve never known her to take more than a couple of days off. “She better take you to eat at Superdawg.” My mouth begins to water and I can almost taste the awesome hot dog, a Chicago staple.

“Will do.” He walks up the stairs with me and Henry on his heels. “Bye, buddy. See in you Chicago.”

He gives Henry a few pats on the head and me a quick hug. He’s gone--just like that.

The house is too quiet. Everyone important to me seems to be going in a different direction and my stomach is turning. Is this what it feels like to grow up?

With a little background music and Henry by my side, I bead all the mommy bracelets orders from the hospital, plus a few extra. With nothing but time on my hands, I need to keep my mind busy.

It doesn’t take long to make all the orders, since the design is pretty easy. I call Eloise to see if I can drop them off tonight.

Eloise is pleased with the brochures for the labor and delivery bags. The space she’s cleared on the counter is prime real estate for Beadnicks. I use the acrylic bracelet stands Dee gave me to hang some of the mommy bracelets on. In a clear bowl filled with white rice, I lay a few Swarovski birthstone crystal bracelets. The white background enhances their sparkle.

Knowing I made these with my own hands makes my entire body smile. I can’t recall a time I’ve been this happy. Maybe when my parents were alive, but over the past few months I’ve learned not to dwell on the past. In fact, I’ve learned that the past can cripple our future.

Even though my friends aren’t here and they are going in different directions, I know in my heart we will always be together and they are truly happy for me. I look at each one of these bracelets and feel so much gratitude.

Just think if I hadn’t taken the chance I did, I wouldn’t be here now. Embrace life, my dad would say. I’m beginning to understand.

“Thank you.” A faint whisper crosses my lips as my chest lifts in a light breath. I can feel it. I know my parents can hear me.

“Excuse me?” Eloise leans closer. “Did you say something, dear?”

My one-sided conversation with my parents was obviously louder than a whisper.

“Oh, I was just sending up a little gratitude.” I smile, looking up, imagining my parents smiling down on me.

“You know, young people don’t do that enough nowadays.” She peers over her glasses and touches a few of my bracelets. “You must’ve had a good upbringing.”

“My parents died when I was young.” I tell her.

An image of Aunt Grace pops into my head on the day she picked me up from school in a full-length mink coat. Half the fur was gone and it was ninety degrees and humid. I became the butt of all the jokes.  After that, I was so embarrassed that I never ever had a friend over, and I was only in eighth grade.

If Eloise had only known I grew up in the seediest part of the city with cockroaches sharing my bed, that I wore secondhand clothes and that I never knew where my next meal was coming from.

“I didn’t say parents.” Eloise takes my hand in her hands, “You had a good upbringing. You just don’t know it yet.”

Slipping my hand out of hers, a little anger boils in my soul. My Beadnicks contract doesn’t involve therapy.

“Not to be disrespectful,” I tell her, “but my crazy aunt and uncle raised me.”

Eloise howls, and I look around to find some of the patrons staring.

“Honey, don’t you know the old saying? ‘Families are like fudge, mostly sweet, with a few nuts.’ That’s what makes the world go round.”

I nod at Eloise’s comment. She looks like she’s never had a problematic day in her life. Sure, her wrinkles and gray hair make her look like she has wisdom, but she doesn’t know my life. She doesn’t know the years of studying I did by a naked light just so I could get a state college scholarship in order to get the heck out of Cincinnati. With my good study habits and grades, I landed myself a full ride and far enough away from home where no one knows me.

“Well, Eloise, I’m heading back to Chicago in a couple weeks. I don’t anticipate you’ll need anything by then.” I scribble Natalie’s number on the back of a business card. “Natalie will be in every couple weeks to restock sold merchandise. Or, you can call her before, if you need to. Call me if you have any business questions like the invoices.”

Eloise shakes my hand. “I believe your bracelets are going to be a big seller here. I’m looking forward to doing business with you, Hallie.”

Chapter Fifty

The house is silent, at least until Henry breaks the stillness with his yipping.

I check the window and spot the mailman walking away. Eager to see what’s in store— maybe an offer from Saks or O magazine—I rush to see what he left behind.

The mailbox hanging on the front porch holds a piece of paper I have been fearing for thirty days. The Chase credit card return label speaks volumes without opening it.

“Oh, Henry.” I hold the bill in a vise grip.

I promised myself I wouldn’t let this bead thing get me in debt. The few bracelets sold here and there through Dee and a prime real estate on the counter in a local hospital gift shop isn’t near enough to pay the three-thousand-dollar Chase bill.

I remember my dad preaching to my mom, “If we can’t afford to pay cash, we can’t afford it.” That’s exactly what happened to Aunt Grace. She put everything on credit cards and, with no money to back her up, she lost it all.

All the gurus always say, “You can break the cycle, starting with you.” I’m going to break the debt cycle and make something of myself. Right now, I promise myself. I knew the day I signed the Chase agreement that I shouldn’t have. Even if the zero percent did catch my attention, I knew it then and I know it now.

Even Henry’s kisses don’t make me feel any better. I have three weeks until my minimum payment is due. Sure I can pay the low minimum payment of twenty dollars, but it will take years for me to pay it off.

Off for the weekend and with all my beading caught up, I might as well put the bill aside and start packing. At least that’s something to look forward to.

I pull the boxes out of the hall closet I had stuffed in there ten weeks ago—and there it stares at me. Each perfect piece begging me to pick it up and smash it up against the fireplace. Aunt Grace’s china.

I sit on the floor, cross-legged, facing the stacked china, running my fingers along the rim of the petite coffee cup. It’s tempting. I read about a place where angry people can go in a padded room and throw china at the walls to vent their anger.

Why not? I tell myself. It might feel good.

I pick up the cup thinking about all the anger that lies deep within my bones: my parent’s death, living with Aunt Grace, not having friends in high school, studying my youth away in order to make a future for me.

Of course I can’t smash it. I picture Bo’s face and pick it up again. I remember the cockroaches, pink Henry, bricks, gambling money, that flag pole with the bald eagle on top, sawed-off doors, Saks, O Magazine, Chase!

I grip the cup over my head ready to fling it for a taste of feeling free. I clinch my jaws and tears trickle like a dripping faucet down my face.

“Why me God?” I grip the cup with both hands and scream up to the ceiling.

“Why?” I scream at the top of my lungs. “A person can only take so much. I am tired. Tired of saying it can be worse. Tired of looking for the bright side.”

For me this is worse.

I can’t. I can’t throw it. With my shoulders slump and the tiny coffee cup in my hands, I start to laugh. Laugh harder than I have in weeks. It reminds me of a crazy person. I laugh more. I imagine myself as Aunt Grace’s biological daughter. It makes sense in a way. I sure seem to have gotten the crazies from her.

I hold the coffee cup towards Henry, who is cowering under the table, scared from my rant. “Maybe two sips.” I shove the cup closer to him. “Can’t drink much coffee out of this.”

I pretend to take a couple sips with my pinky sticking up in the air.

It’s then that I notice the label on the bottom. Royal Doulton England. A crowned lion sits on top a crown with Royal Doulton England printed under it. I examine every piece. All twelve place settings, gravy bowls, platter, the whole nine yards. All in immaculate shape. There’s no way Aunt Grace would’ve been able to afford real china.

I have to admit, it’s cute china and with my curiosity up, I Google Royal Doulton.

Antique? Circa 1910? I comb through the Google entries on the screen. Could Aunt Grace’s china possibly be worth something?

“Please, God, let there be three thousand dollars here,” I whisper.

I jump up and pack the china in an empty boxes.

“Henry, I’ll be right back.” I grab the box and slam the door behind me.

Driving I recall a few pawn shops around. I park and go in the one I’ve passed many times. But never been a patron.

The gentleman looks up from behind the counter to acknowledge my existence.

“Can I help you find something?” He stares back down at his paper.

“I have some china and I want to know how much you think it’s worth.” I hand him the tiny coffee cup, hoping he may see something I don’t.

“You’re in luck. We have an antique dealer who looks at all this stuff. He’s here now.” He disappears behind a dingy blue curtain.

I look around the darkly lit room. There are at least five security cameras hanging from the wooden rafters. I get the heebie-jeebies being in this part of the town at this time of day. I wish I would’ve told someone I’m down here just in case me or my china doesn’t get to see the light of day again.

The counterman re-emerges with another man. “How many pieces do you have?” the other man asks me.

“I have all twelve place settings plus the extras.” I’m getting the feeling that he is a little interested in what I have.

“All good condition like this cup?” He holds it closer to the light.

“As far as I can tell. I have it all with me if you want to see it.” I point towards the door with my keys still in hand.

The antique dealer follows me out to the car, making two trips to retrieve the boxes. On the second trip, he points to the yellow bag of silver. “Is that yours?”

He picks up the carved spoon. There is excitement in his eyes.

“Oh yeah, that. Why?” I pull out the bag and dump the contents in the trunk.

“Interested in selling it?”

I don’t answer, I start stuffing it in the boxes. With the china and the silver, I follow him back into the pawnshop. I bet I can get fifty dollars out of him.

Anticipation build as I watch him carefully place each piece on the empty table. He looks them over, one at a time, writing on a piece of paper. Then the two men whisper in a way that makes me uncomfortable.

“Here’s the deal.” He takes the magnifying glasses off his head and lay them on the counter. “Royal Doulton,” he taps the bottom of the tiny cup, “started in 1815 and to make a long story short became Britain’s leading china maker. What you have here is worth about ten thousand dollars.”

My mouth drops, but no sound comes out. I have to steady myself against the counter. “Did I hear you correctly?”

“If you heard ten thousand dollars, you heard me correctly.” He picks up the knife.

I look around. I’m either on Punk’d or Antiques Road Show. “This is a joke. Right?”

He laughs and then points to the silver. “This is a very rare Sheffield sterling silver set circa 1894 worth four thousand dollars.”

As if in slow motion, I watch him puts the knife next to the spoon. “I’ll give you fourteen thousand dollars for all of it.”

My lungs compress. I can’t breathe. There is no way Aunt Grace knows she gave me thousands of dollars of china.

I fiddle around my bag for my phone and motion to the antique dealer to hold on.

“Hello?” Aunt Grace sounds tired. I can hear her shallow breathing as she tries to take in air.

“Aunt Grace?” I question if it’s even her. “Are you okay?” I momentarily forget about the china and become increasingly frightened.

My first instinct is to go and look at her to make sure she is still wearing a wig, ruby red lipstick and stroking her fox. I need to know she’s still my crazy Aunt Grace.

“Hallie, it’s so good to hear your voice,” Aunt Grace’s says. “I’m fine. All this humidity loves to get in my lungs.” She assures me nothing is wrong. Though I still have an uneasy feeling she isn’t telling me the truth.

“Aunt Grace, you know the china and the silver ware you gave me.” I get to the point. “Do you know how much that is worth?”

“Yes.” The line is silent. “I guess you either need money or want to get rid of it. Either way, I know we couldn’t offer you the life you deserved, but I gave you the best life I could. I am proud of you, Hallie.” Aunt Grace sounds the sanest I’ve ever heard her.

I wipe the tear from my cheek. I don’t know what to say. I can’t let her down. “I need the money.” I whisper in embarrassment.

“How much do you need?” She questions.

“Three thousand dollars.” Shame begins to fill my soul. My insides slowly begin to tear away from my body. I realize she’s done the best she could for me and the way I’ve treated her over the years is ungrateful and evil.

“Wait, Hallie,” she pleads. “Don’t sell it.”

I checked the LCD screen on my phone. Aunt Grace’s call has been dropped.  I don’t know what it is about her voice, but it makes me believe her. It’s the least I can do. The credit card minimum payment isn’t due for three weeks. I don’t have to do this now.

I thank the gentlemen for their time, pack my china and silver back in the box, and speed back to Hyde Park to begin my real packing.

Chapter Fifty-One

There he sits, on the stoop and still not giving eye contact. “Your aunt’s upstairs.” Uncle Jimmy doesn’t even scoot over to let me through.

This time, I slowly walk up the stairs, smiling at the smells of urine, the scatter of bugs and the loud noises coming off the street that would’ve annoyed me a couple weeks ago.

The apartment number is still crooked hanging on by a thumbtack and the wood still shows the history of the cockroaches that once lived here.

I tap on the door. “Aunt Grace?”

She opens the door teary-eyed. “I’ve dreaded this day since the day you showed up.” She grabs me and hugs me tighter than she ever has. I embrace her just as I did my mother many years ago.

“Are you okay?” I hold her at arm’s length to gain a better look. She’s pale, maybe not feeling well.

“Fine. Allergies, small headache.” She smiles her gummy smile. “I am ninety-two years young.” She laughs.

“You know, this isn’t the last time I’ll be here. I’m still going to visit once every six weeks like I always have.” I see the sadness in her eyes. “Maybe once a month.” I can do that, especially now since I have business dealing here.

“Come in?” She knows I’m going to decline. “I know you want to get back to that big-city life.”

She reaches inside the door and hands me a doll. It isn’t any doll. It is a true child like baby doll. She—I think it’s a she—stands as tall as my waist. Her hair is shaved and only the hair plugs are visible.

“I found it in the dumpster and thought about you immediately.” She smiles. “She can keep you company on your way home.”

“I have Henry, Aunt Grace and I don’t have any more room.” It looks like the bride of Chucky. I see the disappointment in her eyes. “You know, I can put Henry in the back seat.”

Her chin tilts up, showing me a toothless smile I’m going miss. I realize I need her more than she needs me. She’s all I have.

Uncle Jimmy’s back is facing me as I walk back down the steps. He still doesn’t flinch stepping over him again. “Excuse me, Uncle Jimmy.”

His hat is blocking his line of vision. I want to smile and tell him bye, but he is the same old Jimmy. I turn one last time to look back at the old apartment building. I don’t know when or if I will ever be back here. I have an uneasy feeling I’ve never had before.

Uncle Jimmy stands up with dampened eyes.

“Hallie?” His voice is frail and soft. “I know I’ve been a bear of a relative, but your Aunt Grace has always loved you. These past few months have brought out a happiness and joy she hasn’t had in years.” He begins to weep. “I may not be smart or rich, but I do know when to say thank you.”

I walk over to him, but he pushes me away. “No need for all that.”

He sits back down on the stoop. He doesn’t want a response, he only wants to say thank you in his own way. Of all the crazy things he did this summer, this one ranks as the most memorable.

Week Eleven

Bead CRAZY!

Chapter Fifty-Two

With a swift clap, my lights came on. I jump to look at the clock. Two in the morning! No need to look at the caller ID.

“Hello, Aunt Grace.” I lay down with the crook of my elbow shielding the light from my eyes. Of course, now that I’m about to leave, she’s going to start calling in the middle of the night, again.

“Hallie?” Uncle Jimmy’s voice sounds shaky and unclear.

“Uncle Jimmy?” Like a spring, I jump to my feet and clap. “What’s wrong?” I can tell by the pause it isn’t a good sign. Panic starts to take over. “Uncle Jimmy?”

“It’s your Aunt.” I’m sure I hear a tear hit the phone. “We’re at University Hospital. I think it’s her heart.”

“I’ll be right there.” I hang up, dress in record time, and run to my car.

My foggy mind matches the September foggy streets of Cincinnati, leaving me driving slower than normal and making me panic more. All the what-ifs are running in my head.

What if it’s a heart attack? All of our family has died of heart related issues, expect my parents. What if she dies? She can’t die. She’s all I’ve got. My panic turns to sadness. Sadness for her. Sadness for Uncle Jimmy. Sadness for me.

The red emergency room sign looks pink in the fog, making it hard to read. I park in the closest parking spot, grab my bag and run as fast as I can, almost smacking into the sliding glass doors.

Uncle Jimmy sits next to her holding her lifeless hand. He looks up at me. It’s the look of a scared old man. His eyes are red around the edges from worry, from crying.

“She got up to get a drink and fell.” He puts her hand to his lips. “I keep saying her name and she never responds.” He breaks down, laying his head on the edge of her bed.

I walk over and rub my hand along her forehead and through her fine hair. If she has to be in this position, I know she would want her hair to look good. She looks gray. Her face is sunken and more drawn without her teeth.

The tube sticking out of her mouth is pumping her chest up and down, making it seem she is breathing on her own. Her bones protrude through her skin.

My urge is to grab the tube out and scream “Get up, Aunt Grace. What are you doing, teaching me a lesson? I love you. You have been my mother. Get up!” But I don’t.

“Aunt Grace, I love you.” I bend down and whisper in her ear. The machines beeps.

The noise of the breathing tube fills, clicks and releases, to me as loud as a gonging bell. It fills the room, making this more real. My sadness turns back into fear.

“Aunt Grace, open your eyes.” I beg her. I get angry. I demand. “Open your eyes, Aunt Grace.”

I need her to get up, for me.

“Uncle Jimmy, tell her to open her eyes.” I plead with him.

“I’ve tried, Hallie. I don’t think your aunt’s going to make it.”

“Yes, she is. She is strong.” I speak through my gritted teeth and glare through my tears, through my pain.

The machines seem to be getting louder. All the noises ring in my ears. I put my hands over them to stop the madness, but it doesn’t stop the noise in my head.

I should have been a better niece. I shouldn’t have talked about her the way I did. She took me in when I had no one. When no one else wanted me.

“I should’ve taken better care of her.” I sob with my head in my hands.

“You did more than you know.” Uncle Jimmy keeps rubbing her hand, and smiles lovingly at her. “She was so happy you were living here. When your parents died, she said this was her chance to be a mother since she couldn’t have kids.”

Thinking back, it might not have been ideal, but my life was nothing short of exciting. I might have hated it then, but I have her to thank for the drive in life I now have.

“She,” I stop and correct myself, “both of you did a great job. If it wasn’t for the two of you, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

We sit in silence, each on either side, rubbing her hands for hours. Waiting. Waiting for a sign of life, a breath on her own, a flutter of her eyes. Waiting for a doctor. Nothing.

“I think it is time we discuss options.” The doctor finally comes in to check Aunt Grace’s vital signs. It’s news I don’t want to hear. I can tell by the look in her eyes that she is telling us that Aunt Grace isn’t going to make it. “Her vitals are telling us her body is not recovering. She has suffered a brain aneurysm.”

“What?” Uncle Jimmy is questioning what the diagnosis is.

“A brain aneurysm is a bulging, weak area in the wall of an artery that supplies blood to the brain. In most cases, a brain aneurysm causes no symptoms and goes unnoticed.” The doctor is trying to avoid eye contact. “Did she complain of a head ache?”

“No.” Uncle Jimmy quietly answers.

“Yes, she did.” I remember the visit earlier in the day. She told me her head hurt. “She thought it was allergies.”

“What?” Uncle Jimmy questions me.

“Today when I came to visit. She told me she had a headache from allergies.”

“She doesn’t have allergies.” Uncle Jimmy shakes his head. “No way.”

“Either way,” the doctor confirms, “her body is shutting down. The machines are breathing for her. It’s allowing the blood to keep moving through her body.”

I have a hard time wrapping her words around my head. I look at my great aunt’s lifeless body. It isn’t her in there. Her feistiness is nowhere to be found. This doctor has no idea of the fun, the joy, the life this body has had.

“I’ll give you a few minutes.” She slips out to the other side of the curtain.

The silence hangs between Uncle Jimmy and me.  He doesn’t look up. “Uncle Jimmy, do you understand what she’s asking us to do?” I release Grace’s hand and kneel down beside him. He nods.

“I don’t think I can live without her.” His voice is raspy. He looks more frail than her.

My heart is empty. The hole that Aunt Grace helped me repair many years ago is reopening. The feelings of long ago resurface. The hurt. The pain. The loneliness. I know if I feel this way, Uncle Jimmy is worse.

“Uncle Jimmy, I’m so sorry.” I put my head in my hands and sob.

He put his arms around me. It’s the first time he’s ever hugged me. I don’t cringe from the dirty clothes or the few teeth he has in his mouth. I start to laugh. A crazy laugh that makes me look crazy.

Memories of Aunt Grace play in my mind like an old movie reel. All the crazy things she did made really good memories. Memories that will become stories. Stories that no one will ever believe.

“Gracie and I’ve had some really fun times.” I pull away from Uncle Jimmy and return to Aunt Grace’s side. “She wouldn’t want to live this way. She is full of life. This is not her.”

“I know.” Uncle Jimmy disappears behind the curtain to find the doctor and leaves me alone with Aunt Grace.

“Aunt Grace,” I whisper close to her ear just in case she can hear me.

I have always heard dead people or people in comas can hear what is going on around them. Hearing is the last of the senses to shut down.

“Thank you for loving me no matter how hard I tried to escape. Thank you for calling me in the middle of the night. Thank you for all of the times you made me crazy. You have filled me with love I will never know again.”

I’m prepared for what the doctor is doing. But I’m not prepared to hear the machine flat-line, and I walk out of the room.

Chapter Fifty-Three

The ceremony is simple. Only a few of Aunt Grace’s friends gather to pay their last respects along with Lucy, Georgia and Prudence. There will be no gathering after the service, just me dropping Uncle Jimmy off at the bus station.

He decided to get on a bus to Florida with what little money they had. He promises he will keep in touch.

“Sorry to hear about your aunt.” Inas, the voodoo neighbor, pecks on Aunt Grace’s apartment door. “She sure loved you.”

I go through all of Aunt Grace’s things. Carefully throwing most of it away.

“I love her, too.” I laugh as Henry chases the cockroaches around the room.

“She left this for you.” Inas gave me a dingy envelope. “She knew she wasn’t well. She came to me last week and told me to give this to you.”

I carefully open the envelope.

Dearest Hallie,

I love you so much as if you were my own daughter.  I know I may not have been the conventional guardian, but I wanted to show you life.

I am so proud of what you have done with your life. I have enjoyed seeing you every week for the past few months. It has given me more joy than you will ever know. Staying with you showed me how talented you are. I promise you will be very successful with your jewelry. If you are thinking about your future, don’t worry. I know. I have faith in you.

I gave you the china and silver ware because it has been in our family for generations. I want you to keep it and use it for all of those fancy parties you will host.

I don’t have any words of wisdom or advice. Life has short changed you and robbed you of family. Keep those friends of yours close, even that goofy Lucy. They love you and just because they aren’t blood, doesn’t mean they aren’t family.

Remember I love you and you are the best niece/daughter I ever had.

I love you Hallie,

Aunt Grace

PS. All my late night phone calls were only because I needed to hear your voice. I made up reasons to call.

“Thank you.” I mouth to Inas. Tears flows like a water fountain down my face and onto the page, smearing some of the words. Oh how I wish my phone would ring and she would compare me to my mom.

“There you are!” The whistling lady who Aunt Grace threw bricks at is standing in her doorway. She crosses the threshold trying to pick up a growling Henry.

“Excuse me?” I walk over and take Henry out of her arms.

“That’s my dog.” The lady points to Henry. “I want to tell Jimmy how sorry I am to hear about his wife had passed, but obviously she’s the one who took my dog.”

“I am sorry, but he’s mine.” Henry continues to growl. “I am sure there are more than one dog in the world that looks like my dog.” There is no way I’m going to give Henry back.

“Besides, Uncle Jimmy moved to Florida.” I stand by the door signaling her to leave.

“Brrrrr.” Inas watches the woman leave. “There’s pure evil in that woman.”

“I wasn’t about to give him back to her.” I hold Henry close to my body. Aunt Grace knew I needed him.

Inas keeps me company and takes a few things for herself while I clean out Aunt Grace’s apartment. I take Aunt Grace’s letter and re-read it several times.

At last, it’s done. Henry and I take one last look at Aunt Grace’s building. The building will go up for sale and all the money will be put in Uncle Jimmy’s account so he can live off it in Florida.

Week Twelve

The best bead is the one that didn’t get away.

Author Unknown

Chapter Fifty-Four

My heart aches walking out of the boutique for the last time as an employee. I have devoted my life to this job and leaving is a little scary.

“We are going to miss you.” Beatrice hands me a goodbye gift. I open it carefully relishing the scent of fine Italian leather.

“I can’t believe you got these already.” I run my hand up the new Iconic Flat Boot. “I love them. You should have.” I laugh knowing I damn well deserve them.

“You will need those peddling your jewelry in the cold upcoming Chicago weather.” Beatrice and I don’t have a warm relationship. We have a working, all-business relationship. She is able to take a task and get it done, and that’s exactly what this job calls for.

New boots in hand, I have one last stop before I head back to the apartment to get Henry and drive home.

The earth is still wet and piled high atop Aunt Grace. There she is, right next to my parents. The three most important people who shaped me are all together again.

Henry is waiting by the door. He knows something is up with the suitcase stacked next to the front door. I walk around one more time, taking in the apartment where my new life was created. I pick up my Buddha off the dresser and place him in the last box.

The cobblestone walk leads the way. I’m going to miss this house. I’m going to miss the past three months. Life sure does work in mysterious ways.

Once we get into Chicago, I take Henry around the block for a walk. The Blockbuster video store is buzzing with couples and the streets are cluttered with young adults deciding on their next bar stop. Henry is curious. He smells every new smell and peed on every fire hydrant.

“Welcome home, Henry.” I pat my little stolen companion.

Happily we stroll in One West Superior and up to our condo.

The lights startle me as Lucy began to clap my lights on. “You haven’t been home for three hours and the calling has already started.” Lucy holds the ringing phone out for me to answer.

Damn it! It’s already starting.

“Hello?” I blink my eyes. I know it isn’t Aunt Grace.

“You are psychic just like your mother.” I smile, hearing Uncle Jimmy’s voice. He sounds exactly like she always has.

“Caller ID.” I state blankly, exactly like I did with Aunt Grace. I can’t help but smile.

“I want to tell you they the building in just under three hours.” He sounds sad, but relieved.

“Are you kidding me?” I can’t believe they sold it. I bet they are going to tear it down in order to keep revitalizing the city.

“No. I’m not kidding you.” Uncle Jimmy is delighted. “I want to give you half the money for your business.”

“I’m fine, Uncle Jimmy. You need to live on that money.” Even though I can use some to pay off that three thousand dollars.

“It’s prime real estate in downtown. Granted, the worst part of town, but they are trying to invest money down there and reinvent that part of Cincinnati.” His voice escalates, “They offered me $750,000 and I want to give you a little. I had them send you a check. You should get it soon.”

The line went dead. Uncle Jimmy is doing what he feels is right. I have a feeling I won’t ever hear from him again.

WOW! Aunt Grace was sitting on a gold mine and she knew it the entire time. With a clap of the hands, my bed held me tight in the dark. I fall back to sleep thinking about my aunt and all the crazy, but happy times we’ve had together.

Chapter Fifty-Five

I have two weeks to get ready for the Chicago marathon. I’m determined not to waste two years of my life. I’m going to run that race. I don’t care if I finish last, my mind’s made up.

The sun is warm on this September morning. The air is still and easily going through my body, encouraging me to press on. Beadnicks has given me the confidence of accomplishing anything alone.

Twenty-six miles is a long run considering I’m now running just under ten minutes per mile. Going through six of the twenty-nine districts the run goes through is distracting. I find different boutiques that can be a possible home for Beadnicks. Making mental notes of all of them, I decide to take State Street back home.

“Hallie.” Sam gives me an enthusiastic greeting. He hugs me. “When did you get back?”

“Late last night. It feels good to be back.” It is good to be back. The welcoming of the weather, the familiar feeling. “The marathon is soon.” I take a cup of water from him.

“Will your friend be joining you anytime soon?” He refers to Bo.

“I don’t think so.” I shake my head and walk toward the street. Bo hasn’t tried to contact me and I’m going to put it out of my mind. “See you later.”

The feeling I get from running starts to quickly fade once I look at the boxes I still need to unpack. I get my Buddha out and put him back on my bedside table. My thoughts are cut short by the phone with a number I don’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Is Hallie there, please?” the mystery voice asks.

“This is her.” Which bill did I forget to pay now? I start thumbing through my calendar. Chase is already due?

“I am calling on behalf of Judith Light with Nordstrom. She is curious to see when you will be back in Chicago to meet?”

Now! Right now!

“I got in last night. I’d love to come by today.” Knowing it is Saturday, I’m sure she isn’t in, but I want her to know I‘m eager to meet her.

“Fine. Let’s say one hour.” The assistant doesn’t give me an option. “What’s your address?”

“One West Superior,” I utter. I’m curious. Is she coming here?

“Great. A car will be waiting for you in one hour.” The mystery voice hangs up the phone. Is this really happening? Do I need to call Prudence?

Panic, I dial, hating to bother her love week with Wilson. But I need her.

“Thanks.” Prudence sounds frazzled on the other end of the phone.

“For what?” I hope I didn’t wake her up.

“A fistfight. That’s what.” She sounds really mad. “Or haven’t you heard?”

I must be living in the Twilight zone. Nordstrom is in one part of my brain and Prudence in the other. I rub my forehead.

“No I haven’t, but I have a meeting in one hour with Nordstrom. Can you come?”

“Yes, only because you are going to make millions, not because I am a little mad at you.”

“What the hell happened?” I ask.

“We went to Bo’s bar last night and Bo punched Wilson.”

Oh, shit! I didn’t think their paths would ever cross.

I lay back on my bed, putting my pillow on top to escape the thought.

“He accused Wilson of cheating on you with your best friend and what type of guy Wilson is. Then he punches him breaking his nose. We’ve been in the emergency room the entire night.”

“I’m so sorry, Prudence.  Did Wilson tell you what happened?”

“He told Bo visited you in Cincinnati, and when you came up here, you caught him and Piper in a hug. Then you came up with some crazy plan in your head that he agreed to it.” Prudence isn’t laughing. “I will be there in forty minutes.”

I put the phone down, pondering why Bo would do that to Wilson. I’m sure he and Piper are together, and that he doesn’t care about me or my feelings.

Chapter Fifty-Six

“What have you been doing in Cincinnati to warrant this?” Sam is checking out the limo sent by Judith Light. Prudence gets in like a champ as I dance around on how to enter. With my head first or feet first?

“What?” I cast my eyes on Prudence.

“Feet first.” She twirls her finger, pointing to my feet. “Didn’t you learn anything from Carrie Bradshaw all those years?”

I step in one foot after the other.

“We’re going to go into this with the same deal we did Saks.” She shows me one of the spreadsheets.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” I question her tactics because I haven’t heard from Saks and maybe her deal isn’t the best deal.

“Got us the deal.” She hands me a contract for a two season deal. “Surprise!”

“Prudence!” I scream so loud that the window between me and the chauffeur comes down. “Oh, sorry.” I put my hand over my mouth and look into his eyes glaring back at me from his rearview mirror. The window rolls back up.

“When?” I ask. My heart is sinking down to my feet.

“Two days ago. I told them I wasn’t going to tell you until all ties with the boutique were cut.” She has her finger on a very large number. “This is a big number, Hallie.”

I can’t stop saying the number in my head.

“Don’t screw it up.” She warns me.

We walk in Nordstrom with our heads held high.

“Nice to meet you.” Judith is much older than I had pictured. She’s at least in her seventies. “I have to admit when Grace told me about your line, I had no idea how lovely it really is.”

“Your aunt?” she says, reading the confusion in my face.

“My aunt?” I question. And it clicks. “My Aunt Grace. She called you?”

“Yes. She helped me get my start in fashion years ago.” She pulls a frame from her bookshelf of a much younger Aunt Grace, sporting a vintage Gucci. If I know Gucci and I know Gucci, she is holding the 1960s pale taupe calfskin bag. “We were sad to lose her when she had to quit and take custody of her twelve-year-old niece.”

My heart is breaking. I can’t believe she had a life like mine and gave it all away for me.

“I’m that twelve-year-old niece.” I feel shame.

“Yes, I know.” Judith took the frame and put it back on the shelf. “I must say, I was taken aback when I heard she passed last week.” Judith pulls that 1960s bag from a Gucci dust bag, “Grace sent me this just a few days before her passing.”

Judith hands me the bag. I open it to find Aunt Grace’s letter to Judith and a few Beadnicks sample bracelets she must’ve taken when she stayed with me. The letter told Judith my life story, about Gucci and my jewelry line.

“She loves you.” Judith props herself on the edge of her desk and crosses her arms. “And I love your work.”

I think Prudence is as shocked as I am. She doesn’t even try any lawyering.

“I went ahead and showed your line to corporate. I know you have a couple seasons with Saks, but we want to jump on with four seasons.” She gives the paperwork to Prudence.

Prudence gives her approval. With papers signed and the 1960s Gucci on my arm, I can’t believe it. Aunt Grace completely stuck her neck out for me. She is the reason I am sitting here with Judith making the deal of a lifetime.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

That night, everyone gathers at Flatwater to celebration by beading success. I even invited Monk, since he gave me wonderful advice.

Next week, and, for the next twenty-plus years, my life begins and ends with beading.

Staring out at the boats coming and going from the canal, I look up at Al Capone’s mysterious office and get a calm feeling blankets me. Three months ago I would’ve never dreamed I’d be standing here with my three best girlfriends celebrating my new hobby that’s turned into a big success.

The least successful of the four has become the most successful. Talk about irony.

“Congratulations,” Monk says, leaning over the balcony.

“Thank you. You up for the task of being my accountant?” It is the least I can do for all the advice he’s given me. “Wait, how did you hear?”

“Bo.” He looks around. “You know he’s not the same since you’ve been gone. Actually, I’ve never seen him so wiped. It’s funny not seeing him at the bar every night.”

“What do you mean?” I don’t want to hear that he’s been spending all his time with Piper.

“Since he came back from Cincinnati, he doesn’t come to work at night. He hired a night shift manager. Something I’ve been trying to do for months.”

“There you are.” Piper, of all people, walks up behind us. I wince at the thought of Bo following behind. “Congratulations, Hallie. I was telling Monk about it.”

What? My brain that’s going one hundred miles per hour has slammed into my skull.

I bend down and pick my bottom lip off the Flatwater patio when Monk leans over and kisses Piper on the cheek.

“Didn’t you know Monk and I?” Her finger wiggles between the two. “Didn’t Bo tell you?” She laughs and rubs her hand along Monk’s chest.

“No.” I’m blown over, I’m so floored. “I thought you and Bo….”

“What?” She looks appalled at the thought. “What gave you that idea?”

“The day you were in Gucci, you had on Bo’s Wednesday t-shirt and you wanted me to go to Cincinnati .…”

She interrupts me. “You think I sent you away? Hallie, I was going to quit Gucci to be with Monk, but they asked me about a replacement and I suggested you. It was their final decision. As for the t-shirt, I’d stayed the night with Monk at the bar and the only thing there for me to wear was Bo’s t-shirt from his laundry basket.”

Oh my God. I faintly remember Bo telling me that he and Monk do their laundry at the bar, using the washer and dryer there.

“I wondered why you were so mean to me that morning.” She is satisfied, while I’m still miffed.

“Piper, I am so sorry.” I can’t believe how shallow I was, and how stupid I’ve been. Talk about crazy.

“I think you have some explaining to Bo,” she says. and Monk agrees before they walk off hand and hand.

“What was that all about?” Prudence points in Piper and Monk’s direction.

“I think I really messed up.” I can hardly eat my favorite braised short-rib dinner.

“What are you thinking?” Georgia suspiciously takes in my face. She sees my wheels turning. “Don’t do anything to make it worse.”

I have a hard time falling asleep. I really need to talk to Bo, and explain my side of the story. I only hope he can forgive me. I must’ve fallen asleep from worry, because I jump up as soon as my alarm goes off.  Quickly, I get a shower and put my hair in a low pony. I put on my forever 21 short running shorts and Bo’s Sunday t-shirt. Since it is Sunday, I might as well keep up the tradition.

Looking in the mirror, the t-shirt is a little long. I tie a knot in the back just above the elastic band of my shorts. I think I’ll start down by the fountain where the real race is going to start.

“Hallie, you’re back.” I’m relieved to see a couple of people from my running group, stretching out. This means Bo is around.

“I am. I didn’t know you would be here.” I lie, yet again with my fingers crossed.

“We’ve been running the route. Looks like you need to catch up.” Bo is standing behind me with a new Sunday shirt on. “Nice shirt. Funny, I lost it in Cincinnati.”

“Funny, I found it in my drawer.”

The group starts without us.

“I heard about last night.” His eyes are much softer at this meeting. “Piper told me everything.”

I can’t bring myself to look at him. It’s hard to face him. Harder than I thought it was going to be.

“I told you that I can’t stand a liar.”

I’ve completely lost him. What a fool I am to wake up and think “Oh, I’ll put on his shirt and run into him and apologize.” I haven’t apologized.

“I know I lied about a few things, but I had good reason to believe you were seeing Piper. She was wearing your Wednesday shirt. The shirt I have ran behind  every Wednesday for two years. I show up at your bar several times and you were uninterested. Suddenly you come to Cincinnati and .…” He put his hand up to my mouth. His eyes brighten, dropping his hand, he takes me into his arms and gently kisses me.

“What did we say?” He asks nose to nose.

“Ummm.” I have no freakin’ clue what we said. My mind or body isn’t quite itself right now.

“No commitment until you get back. Right?” He reminds me of the night we made that stupid rule. “You’re back. Can we talk about commitment?”

“Are you saying you forgive me for thinking Piper moved me to Cincinnati to get you away from me and I pretended Wilson was my boyfriend?” I want to make sure I have everything up front.

“About Wilson.” He bit his lower lip.

“I heard you beat the shit out of him.” I fold my hands and put them under my chin, I bat my eyes. “My hero.”

“I thought he was cheating on you with Prudence. I almost hit her, but I don’t hit girls.” He wraps me in his arms. “What about that commitment thing?”

I show him my answer by taking his head in my hands and giving him a million little kisses.

Chapter Fifty-Eight

I carefully wash the china and polish every piece of Aunt Grace’s silver she gave me. With each wipe, I laugh at a new memory I had with her. Things I had forgotten. Good memories. Like the time she took me to Skyline Chili for dinner when it was my birthday and the time she let me skip school because I stayed up to watch an awards show the night before. She even let me wear one of her furs and a fake tiara during the show. That night, we pretended to be at one of the parties. Good memories. Memories I’ve forgotten about.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Lucy arranges the china in the corner cabinet in our dining room.

“I was thinking about all the good memories I had with Aunt Grace.”

“I think you can look back on all your memories differently and make them good.” She moves the dishes around, trying to situate them perfectly

Lucy is right. All my memories are my memories. They all make me laugh and they all happened to me. I wouldn’t believe the stories unless I lived it.

“What’s going on with you?” I want to change the subject. I heard her on the phone with Beck on several occasions since being home, but I didn’t ask. If she wants me to know, she’ll tell me.

“Well. I haven’t told you, but Beck and I decided to stay in Chicago.” Lucy’s smile says it all.

“Great!” I can tell in her voice she has more to say. “Take it slow and don’t rush.” I smile, thinking of Bo and all the assumptions I let run through my mind over the past three months.

We finish putting the china and silver in the cabinet before Bo pick me up for a real date.

I stand in the window and look over the Chicago skyline, out into the lake. The sun is setting, creating the most beautiful sunset I’ve seen in a long time.

Maybe it’s always been there. Maybe I haven’t taken the time to stop and enjoy. The same holds true for my life.

Something I’ve been looking for all my life actually is my life. At times within the past week, I find myself longing for the late night calls and the crazy situations my aunt put me in. Just like the old saying: family is like chocolate, mostly sweet with a few nuts. Aunt Grace is both, my sweet and my nut.

The End

About the author:

Tonya Kappes is the author of Carpe Bead ‘Em and The Ladybug Jinx (August 2011), her debut women’s fiction novels. She’s also the author of two short stories which can be found in the Something Spooky This Way Comes and Believe Anthologies. Her, co-authored, non-fiction book The Tricked-Out Toolbox, helps writers explore the best promotional and marketing strategies for their career.

Besides being the co-founder of the beyond quirky writer’s grog The Naked Hero (thenakedhero.com), she also is co-founder of The Writer’s Guide to E Publishing (thewritersguidetoepublishing.com).

When she’s not writing about quirky characters and even quirkier situations, she’s busy being the princess, queen and jester of her domain which includes her BFF husband, her four teenage boys and two dogs.

Why write a book with beading elements? Once upon a time, Tonya was the proud co-owner of a very successful beading company, Beadnicks LLC.

Click on the titles below to read more books by Tonya Kappes

The Ladybug Jinx

Splitsville.com

Table of Contents

- Copyright
- Also by Tonya Kappes
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Week One
- Week Two
- Week Three
- Week Four
- Week Five
- Week Six
- Week Seven
- Week Eight
- Week Nine
- Week Ten
- Week Eleven
- Week Twelve
- About the author:

- Click on the titles below to read more books by Tonya Kappes