Me: Sorry, Aunt Brier interrupted me.
Archer: How is Brier Rose? I always liked her.
Me: She’s crocheting penises on the couch.
Archer: Huh?
Me: Her latest craft obsession. She gets custom orders, by thickness and length.
Archer: Well, there are worse hobbies. Competitive bird-calling. Knife juggling. Dating apps.
Me: Don’t forget underwater basket weaving, conspiracy scrapbooking, or crocheting. Well, never mind, we’ve already covered that one.
My lips tugged higher.
Me: How’s your brother?
Archer: Just left him at the hospital. His wife delivered their second child, Everett. Their oldest, Wren, is two now.
Me: I’ll bet you’re a good uncle.
Archer: Of course I am. But I’m biased.
I pictured him giving piggyback rides on his strong adult shoulders. My smile came easier.
Brier plunked down tea and cookies on the coffee table, eyes wide. “You’re smiling. What’s he saying now?”
Archer: Are you visiting Brier? How long are you in town?
Me: I live here, actually. Moved here for college after high school.
Archer: What did you major in?
I hesitated. Once upon a time, I loved sketching designs for buildings, and thought I’d be doing that for life. Instead, after graduation, I made a terrible decision to follow my then-boyfriend from city to city as he tried to make it big in country music. Or as my mother called it, “wasting my life on the road with a nobody.”
Me: Architecture.
Archer: Really? I know many of the firms in the city. Where are you working?
Me: Long story, but I work at Brier’s doggie daycare.
Archer: Interesting.
What must he think of me now—what with him at the top of the skyline, and me walking dogs at street level?
Suddenly, I felt two feet tall. My mother’s nagging voice echoed in my head again, reminding me to come home and settle for working in her dress shop in Steele Valley. The small mountain town never felt like home to me, though.
What the heck happened to my life? Time flew by and somehow stuck me in a place of contentment, but not accomplishment. The question was something I’d been wrestling with for some time.
“What’s wrong, honey? What did he say?” Brier asked. Goldie jumped up between us, nestling into the couch, head on her thigh.
“It’s not him. It’s me. I’ve been here for a couple of years and have nothing to show for it. Oh, but I didn’t mean?—”
“It’s fine, honey. You were such a dear to come help me during my knee replacement recovery. But I always knew this was only a temporary stopover for you. It’s time for you to think about doing something more.”
“Like what? I earned my degree several years ago but never put it to use. Who would hire me now?”
“If you marry a wealthy man like Archer, you wouldn’t have to worry about it.” She half-teased, leaving that thought dangling out there.
