We have a big day.
We’re driving a few towns over to check out a kiln for sale. A new one. No more secondhand that’s going to burn her studio down.
And then I’ll have to head to work where I’ll have tosuffer watching Doug as Mr. May strutting around the firehouse waiting for women who probably won’t end up coming.
And all the while, I’ll be thinking of her.
My girl.
I’ll be counting down the seconds until I can come back to her and hold her in my arms.
Just like this.
EPILOGUE
June
Two and a half years later…
“Ijust can’t get enough of these,” Lauren says as she helps me pack another box of ceramic plates. She’s my best customer and the co-owner of the Greene Mountain Lodge with her husband Owen. She’s changed all of the dishes in the restaurant to ones that I made (even though they’re not cheap) and decorated the rooms with my vases. “The customers love them too.”
“I’m so glad,” I say as I ring up her bill. I cringe when I tell her the full amount, but she just slaps her company card on the counter with a smile and tells me to keep doing whatever I’m doing.
I have to stop feeling bad for charging customers money. Sometimes I feel like an imposter for it, but I shouldn’t. I make a good quality product that people love, so why shouldn’t I get paid for it?
It’s been eight months since I opened my own shop in theGreene Mountains and it’s been amazing. I’m right off the main road, but I still get a heavy flow of people coming in. This summer wascrazywith all of the tourists buying up everything faster than I could make it.
I have three part time employees, but the shop still keeps me busy. There’s always something to do and of course, I still have to make the product.
Now that the summer is over and we’re into fall, I can breathe again and I have the chance to work on making more inventory. My kiln is amazing and I never have to worry about it burning my clay (or my studio down).
“I’m going to a conference next month in Portland,” she says excitedly. “There’s going to be thousands of rich hotel owners there exchanging tips and tricks. I’ll tell them all about you.”
“Really?” I say, getting that nervous excited feeling. It would be nice to have more steady sales all throughout the year, rather than just bursts during touristy times, but the thought of having to provide hundreds or thousands of ceramic dishes to inns all over the country is a little daunting.
“Definitely,” she says, nodding. “These are the best ceramics around, and believe me, I’ve looked everywhere. You’ll have to print up some business cards for me to hand around. Or… Why don’t you come as a vendor? Yeah! You can set up a table and show off your wares. People willloveit!”
“Really?” I say, feeling a little queasy thinking about it. “You think that’s a good idea?”
I get more queasy as she goes on, telling me all about the conference attendees and how they’ll all adore my pottery. My stomach churns and I grab the counter, feeling faint.
“Are you okay?” she asks, looking at me funny. “You’re looking green.”
I don’t answer her. I just turn and sprint to the bathroom. She follows me in and holds my hair back while I’m sick in the toilet.
“It must have been something I ate,” I say, flushing with a wince.
“Yeah, or you’re pregnant.”
We lock eyes. Holy shit.
“I’ll go get you a test,” Lauren says and then races out.
I sit on the cold tile floor, heart pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears.
Pregnant.
The word feels too big to hold all at once.
