Mom’s eyes caught mine, and she rushed to wrap me in a hug. “Emma! We’re so glad you’re here. How are things at the shop?”
I stifled a grimace. I wanted to complain and say I had other things going on that she could ask me about, but that was historically inaccurate, and she had no reason to think otherwise.
“Things are great,” I said, stepping away from her to hug Dad. “I worked late this week setting up the deliveries during my absence and arranging autopayment for invoices. I scheduled email reminders on the mailing list for our upcoming events and laminated copies of the daily and weekly tasks as quick-reference guides.”
Dad chuckled as he set me free. “You’re a natural,” he said proudly. “No one runs a ship as tight as yours.”
Jeffrey raised a hand in greeting. “Good to see you again, Emma,” he said. “Sorry we won’t make it into the shop this week. Annie has an early-morning appointment, and our usual date day is out the window.”
“No problem,” I said. If things went well, I wouldn’t be at work for a while anyway. “I brought wine.”
“Set it there,” Mom said. “We just opened a bottle. Annie has juice.”
Dad filled an empty glass with a robust nine-ounce pour. “We’re celebrating again today,” he said. “Not every family gets to spend time with their grown daughters every week, like we do.”
“And their spouse,” Mom said, raising a glass to Jeffrey. “And their grandbaby on the way.”
Annie folded her arms.
“How about a toast to the Rini ladies?” Jeffrey suggested, passing a glass of apple juice into his wife’s hand.
“Great,” she said.
“Great,” I echoed.
Greatwas the default word Annie and I used when things were, in fact, the opposite. And oftentimes, especially in the presence of our parents, it sometimes meantfuck off.
In retrospect, Annie had answered the same way when I’d asked how her latest prenatal appointment had gone. My brow furrowed, and she looked at her feet as she leaned against her husband’s side. Intuition scratched at the back of my mind.
“Are the notes you wrote up for when you hire help for the shop?” Dad asked.
I bit my lip. “I’m sure any new hires will find the notes useful, but that wasn’t the only reason I made them.”
“Well, cheers,” Mom said.
Dad and Jeffrey echoed the statement.
I looked more closely at my sister while we toasted, wondering when we’d become so distant and hating it more than ever. I opened my mouth to ask if something was wrong and if I could help somehow.
“So, Emma,” Mom interrupted, flashing a smile briefly at Dad. “We’re speaking with our attorney and financial adviser this week. We’ll get things sorted, then bring you in for the paperwork.”
Wow. They were just diving right into things.
I wasn’t sure if my parents planned to legally transfer their business to me as an early inheritance, if they hoped I’d buy them out, or if they wanted to create some kind of co-ownership, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask. Not yet. Not now.
Panic burbled in my gut as I looked into their eager faces. It was time to tell them.
Tell them. Tell them. Tell them.
“What do you think?” Dad smiled hopefully. “We can ask your aunt Stacia to cover the shop while you meet with us to go over the details. She never minds putting in a shift or two.”
I always appreciated when my aunts or cousins popped in to help during our busy times, but we rarely left them alone in the store forlong. What if they ran into trouble or had a question? I pushed the thought aside. My moment was passing, and I could feel my inner chicken urging me to go home and email them instead.
Emily seemed to speak to me then, bringing her precious words to my mind. Life was composed of a million tiny moments, of a million littlenows—and mynowwas happening.
“Actually, I have news,” I said. I cleared my throat, then swallowed a gulp of wine.
The stares of eight expectant eyes locked onto me.
