Most of the stuff for the coffee shop is already sorted but I need a curtain rail for the apartment and new shower parts so I can actually have a decent wash instead of making do with a cloth and the sink. Glamorous life I live thee not.
We’re also going to pick up some buckets and sponges so Skyler and I can clean the glass shop front. Once that’s done, I can start drawing on the designs in window chalk.
I have this image in my head of how the shop will look when it’s finished and I keep flitting back and forth between toddler level excitement at seeing it come together and life questioning panic that the place currently looks like a building site.
And in case I needed more stress, you know to balance out the scales of the peaceful life I’ve led so far, Max still hasn’t replied about tracing the unknown number and Roman still hasn’t gotten in touch about my proposal.So much for distracting myself.
I know I told Roman to look the plan over, to think about it, but it’s been three days now. Three days is a lot of thinking time. Maybe enough time to go from saying yes to no. Maybe he’s realized it would be stupid to enter into a work arrangement with the girl who was voted most likely to flunk out and become an exotic dancer.
Maybe he just doesn’t know how to tell me he’s changed his mind.
“Lola. Lola,” Skyler snaps to get my attention.
I lift my head from my hand and move my elbow from where it was resting on the open window. “Sorry, did you say something?”
Strands of Skyler’s hair that have come loose from her braid play against her cheek as she looks over at me from the driver’s seat. “You went to the dark place, didn’t you?”
I sigh and put my flipflopped feet up on the dashboard. “Maybe just the light gray place.”
Skyler focuses back on the road. “He’s going to say yes.” She seems so sure and steady, her hands at ten and two on the wheel as we drive down the coastal path.
Skyler has this unshakeable confidence to her which I envy. People tend to think I’m confident but ninety percent of the time it’s just bravado. I don’t do things like bungee jumping because I’m fearless, I do it because I refuse to let my fear rule me.
I take my eyes off Skyler and watch the scenery pass us by. Late summer is my favorite time of year in Nova Scotia. The temperatures reach high twenties if we’re lucky and Skyler took the canvas roof off her Jeep, so the wind keeps us cool even as the sun heats the asphalt.
We’re driving near the cliffside at the moment and the sea stretches out behind Skyler in an endless expanse of navy blue. I used to imagine secret islands in the waves as a kid, just beyond the horizon. Even then there was a whole world out there I wanted to discover but until what happened with Carson, I always planned to come back home.
On my side of the car, pine trees stand like pencils, pointing up at the powder blue sky, their fallen needles piled up on the edge of the road.
Carson can try to scare me off as much as he wants but I’m glad I came back. I visited incredible places on my travels, but nothing quite compares to Pine Rock.
“Mountains or forest for the coffee shop windows?” I ask.
Skyler gives me the side-eye for changing the subject, but she doesn’t push the matter. “Merge the two? Are the illustrations going to be permanent or will you switch them up?”
“Switch them up. I want to be able to change with the seasons and also maybe highlight different places in the world, to go with the whole travel theme.”
Inside the shop, one wall will feature a large wooden map of the world and on the other I’m going to make a display out of all the T-shirts I’ve gotten from around the world.
I built myself back up as I traveled, finding little pieces of who I am and who I want to be scattered across the world. Now, I’m bringing those pieces home.
The wooden sign for Mount Bush appears, with its Mi’kmaq name printed below and Skyler flicks the blinker on. For the rest of the morning, I vow to push thoughts of Roman to one side and focus on bringing my dream to life.Today is going to be a good day, I manifest, naively believing that will do anything other than jinx it.
I’m in the paint aisle, my view obscured by the curtain rails stacked in our cart when I hear the commotion by the door.
“Lola!” a man shouts.
I shoot wide eyes at Skyler. “I think that’s my brother,” I say before hot footing it to the front of the shop.
Mase sways in front of the checkout, trying to look around the store clerk telling him he needs to leave.
He scoffs when he sees me. “I knew it. Knew I saw you come in here.” He stumbles a little.
I take in his half-untucked shirt and glazed eyes. “Are you… are you drunk?”
Disbelief knocks into me. It’s mid-morning and Mase barely drinks. He’s always been the responsible one.
Now, he points a finger at me. “Nuh huh, you don’t get to judge me. I’m not the one who’s ghosting her own family.”
