Dollar signs flash before my eyes. Temps aren’t in my budget, but on the other hand, I do feel like I need a mental break from everything that’s been going on. “I guess it could work...” I trail off as an idea comes to me. “My friend Laura from vet school is always talking about wanting to visit California. If I offered her my apartment for two weeks rent free, maybe I could lure her here.”
“I sense a but.” Daphne pinches her lips together. “What other excuse are you about to throw at me?”
“Money is tight. I don’t know if I could afford to pay her a salary,” I admit.
Daph waves me off. “If you need a loan, consider it done.”
“But—”
“Look, you can pay us back by babysitting for us every Friday night for the next year. No more excuses. You’re my sister. You know Brian and I would do anything for you.” Daph reaches across the table and places her hand on top of mine. “Now tell me, what else do you need?”
I chew on my lip. “Do you think I could have you refresh the clinic’s reception area? Vicki is working on the website and marketing. Now that it’s my baby, I’d like it to reflect me.”
“Totally. I’ve hated the boring beige walls you guys have for years.”Daphne smiles to herself. “It’s time for some color—maybe something bold like orange and purple.”
“Orange?” I sputter.
“Uh-huh. It’s a color people won’t forget when they walk away. Why do you think Home Depot uses it?”
I open and close my mouth. “I, er, trust your vision, but it’s not exactly...”
Daph laughs. “I’m joking. Relax. I wouldn’t use orange. I’ll go with something more relaxing.”
Daphne is a talented, highly sought-after interior designer. She’s done up many of the houses in the area belonging to the players of the Jasper Ridge Jaguars professional hockey team. Her work has been featured in magazines and in popular architectural blogs. As she’s grown in popularity, she’s started charging top dollar for her work. But as her sister, I know I can count on getting the family discount—free. That’s a price I can afford.
“Thanks, sis.”
After lunch, Daphne and I head to the antique market. It’s one of the largest in this area of the state. Tents are set up throughout the entire downtown square, packed with families all taking advantage of the nice weather.
“I’ll meet you back here in an hour. If I buy something I can’t carry, I’ll text you and have you bring the truck around,” she says.
My eyes widen. “What are you planning to buy?”
She whips out her phone and opens her notes app. “For the arts-and-crafts room I’m working on at the Landis’, I need a couch, a coffee table, a wingback chair, and a Tiffany lamp base. The Olsen place is a mid-century modern theme. For the guest room and kitchen, I’m looking for a table, a clock, a?—”
“Okay.” I hold up my hands. “I get the picture. You need a lot of stuff.”
“I do. And I probably won’t find most of it today, but if I do...”
“I’ll be a good sister and help you drive it to your storage unit.” Normally, I’d be annoyed that I’m being asked to play chauffeur for her antiques, but since I know my sister and brother-in-law will be advancing me some cash, I owe it to them.
“You’re the best.” She beams.
Daphne makes a beeline for some of her favorite vendors. While she scavenges through each item on display, like a mouse hunting for a piece of expensive award-winning French cheese, I head in the opposite direction where the food trucks are, in search of something caffeinated and some dessert. After the week I’ve had, I deserve it.
I take my time studying each of the chalkboard menus before my nose leads me to the Lucky Dog Diner’s food truck. The diner is famous for its pies. They have the perfect graham-cracker crusts that melt in your mouth. It’s just the right balance of sweet and savory. Add a dash of their fluffy homemade whipped cream, and you have the world’s best dessert. The perfect comfort food.
As I walk toward the end of the line, I count at least fifty people ahead of me. Unfortunately, I’m not the only one who wants a slice of pie. At this rate, it might take the full hour to place and receive my order. Time I don’t have. My shoulders hunch. I guess I’ll have to settle for something else.
Just as I turn and start for the crepe truck next door, I hear, “Dr. B! Dr. B! Over here!” Fernando waves at me near the front of the Lucky Dog line. “Come, join me.”
I feel guilty cutting in front of everyone else who has been waiting, but Ireallywant that piece of apple pie. I keep my head lowered and try my best to ignore the glares sent my way.
“Hi, Fernando,” I say, a little breathless. “Hope you’re enjoying your Saturday.”
“I am.” He nods. “But it’s better now that you’re here.”
He says it so casually, I almost miss the way his eyes flicker over me for just a second longer than friendly. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking.
