“Don’t argue with me, Bellini. You’ll make my uterus prickle up again. No more. You’re done.”
“You don’t have a uterus anymore.”
She pushed a check toward me on the table.
“What’s this? You already paid me for working at the bar.”
“It’s your severance pay. You’re fired.”
Wow. “It’s a lot of money. I don’t need severance.” I pushed the check back. “But I’ll accept being fired.”
She insisted I take the check.
“You’re a writer and an illustrator, honey. You need to write. I’m better, but I’ve decided I’m only going to work at the bar half-time from now on. At the most. I’ve found that I like not being up until midnight. I like time to watch movies and putteraround the house and my garden. I want to have fun with The Sisters.”
“I think that’s a splendid idea, Mom. You, too, have put in your time.” I squeezed her hand. “Also, Mom…” I didn’t want to get all emotional, but I did sniffle. “Thank you for understanding. Thank you for not being offended or hurt.”
“No, my sweet lemon pie, thank you. The bar has been my life, but it’s not yours. You need to have your own life up here in Kalulell, and that’s writing books that children love and visiting them at school. Your books are a gift. I’m so glad you’ve decided to stay.”
“Me, too.” Logan had brought me so much happiness, and I was delighted to be living in Kalulell again with my mom, The Sisters, my cousins, and friends I’ve known since kindergarten. I am one hundred percent a Montana woman. The mountains, the rivers, the streams, they’re all part of who I am. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, darling daughter.”
I moved into Logan’s home with my suitcases in tow. I felt like it was “our” home as soon as my four cats started exploring, my office—with a view of the Swan Mountains—was crammed with my art supplies and writing materials, and my favorite books were piled on the shelves.
I lit candles, Logan turned on the fire, and we had homemade pizza.
I was home.
Yes, home. Home was Logan.
I got my Roxy Belle book in. I used an idea sparked from my conversations with Logan. I hardly slept as I wrote. I probably worked twelve hours a day, Petunia, Sir Scott, Mrs. Books, andClaws keeping me company. I saw Logan at night, and after I “put him to bed,” I went back to writing and editing. Children’s chapter books aren’t that long, but every word counts, and you have to be entertaining all the way through, with lots of dialogue. Plus, you must be a kid in your head.
I loved the story, I did, and more importantly, I knew kids would love it, too. I wanted to bring them literary happiness, and I knew this book would do that.
40
Bellini and Maisie
To: Bellini O’Donnell
From: Maisie Brown
Subject: Roxy Belle rocks the sloth
Bellini,
I read your latest Roxy Belle book, and I love it, and I can breathe again and don’t have tequila in my hand while writing to you. It’s a calm feeling. A sober feeling.
The story is charming and smart. Roxy Belle’s presentation “The Life of a Sloth” is entertaining—and educational. The ending scene with Roxy Belle dressed up like a sloth for her speech is unexpectedly touching, especially when an arm falls off. I like the lesson, too: You don’t have to be perfect. Ever.
I will remind you that your next due date is March 31. Please be on time and not late again, or we will have a repeat of my mini breakdown. Oh, and I heard from Dear Editor. She said your lateness was “sloth-like,” but she loves the book, too.
Roxy Belle Becomes a Slothis a wrap.
Your pal,
Maisie
