“She comes and goes as she likes,” replied the gnome. “But I daresay you’ll see her sometime soon.”
As Viv slid him his drink and pastry, Durias said, “It’ll work out just fine, you know.”
“So far.” Viv looked around the busy shop with a small smile. “It seems to be.”
“Oh, certainly, the shop,” said the gnome. “But the rest of it, too.”
“The rest?”
“Indeed.” And he took his order, toddling off into the dining area.
Tandri leaned around her and looked after him. “Do you think he’s cryptic on purpose?”
Viv shrugged, thinking about his one-sided chess game and about her arrangements upstairs. “Couldn’t say. Don’t think I’d ever want to play Faro with him, though.”
29
At day’s end, Viv gently ushered the last customer out the door and into the brittle cold. She locked up behind them and turned back to her friends, spread throughout the shop.
Thimble fussed with a rack of cooling baked goods, Tandri was wiping down the machine, and Cal examined the hinges on one of the big doorjambs.
Viv simply watched the three of them for a moment, the soft, low bustle such a contrast to the cacophony of the day. The chimney pipes thrummed, and the icy wind sang under the eaves.
She quietly unclipped the cord across the stairs and went up to collect a leather scroll case, which she brought to the counter.
Tandri halted in the middle of scrubbing out a mug to look at her askance.
“Can I have the inkwell?” asked Viv.
“Sure.” Tandri dried her hands and retrieved one from under the counter. She gave the scroll case a speculative look.
Viv cleared her throat, suddenly nervous. “Can I get everyone up here for a minute?” she called, overloud.
They gathered together, gazing at her curiously.
She took a big breath.
“I’m… not really good at speeches. So I won’t try to make a good one. But I wanted to thank you, all of you.” Her eyes suddenly stung. “This… all this…. This was a gift you gave to me. And I….” She grimaced at Cal, and then at Tandri. “I didn’t deserve it. The things I’ve done in my life… I don’t have any right to this kind of good fortune.
“But more than this place, I don’t deserve you. If there was any justice in the world, I’d never have met you, much less have even a scrap of your regard. And for a while… I thought maybe I’d cheated fate to have you near me. That I was bending the rules—forcing some impossible streak of luck—and any moment, you’d find out who I really was, and then you’d be gone.”
She breathed out, slowly.
“But what a stupid thing to think. Unfair to you. Did I think so little of you? Did I think youcouldn’tsee who I was, really? Was I foolish enough to believe I could make you see something other than what was there?”
She looked down at her hands for a moment.
“So. I might not deserve you. And you might forgive too much. But I’m damned glad to have you.”
It was quiet, and she held each of their gazes in turn.
The silence stretched, during which Viv became increasingly uncomfortable.
“Hm,” said Cal. “As speeches go… wasn’t too bad.”
Tandri snorted, and Viv’s tension evaporated as though it had never been.
“Uh. Well, with that out of the way….” Viv opened the scroll case and withdrew a roll of foolscap. “These are writs of partnership. One for each of you. This shop isn’t mine. It’s yours, too. You built it. You made it work, and it’d be nothing without you. All you have to do is sign.”
