“I can work on these sketches right here,” I said, standing up. “Let me get your breakfast. I made bacon and eggs for the kids, so I kept some warm for you.”
She touched my hand gently. “Please let me do it while I’m still able.”
I didn’t want to let her. I wanted to take care of her, to make this go away, to have her for years and years more. But that wasn’t the hand we had been dealt.
“I’d like to go with you to the store after breakfast,” she said.
“Are you feeling up to that?”
She glared at me.
Note to self: don’t ask Mom if she’s feeling up to it.
“Great,” I said. “I’d love that. I know Leah would love it too. You can be our design assistant today.”
She shook her head. “You design. I’ll wait on customers. I’ve always wanted to run a cash register.”
I doubted she realized the “cash register” was now an iPad with a Square reader attached. But there was still that drawer that popped open and made the satisfying “ding.”
“What else, Mom?”
“What else what?” she called from the other side of the wall.
“What else have you always wanted to do?”
She peeked her head around the doorway. “Oh, let’s not do that. I don’t want to be one ofthosedying women.”
I laughed. “You won’t. But if there are things you want to do, let’s do them. Why not? We have time.”
She smiled at me and disappeared again. “I have traveled the world,” she called. “I have no desire to jump out of any airplanes, but I would like to ring a cash register.”
I couldn’t imagine a dying woman’s request being any simpler than that. I heard the clang of the plates through the wall and could picture my mother serving eggs and bacon—for what could be one of the last times. How many times had she made bacon and eggs for me? How many times had I watched her, always perfectly dressed, scrambling eggs, and avoiding grease pops from the bacon? And now she was going to be gone.
I wiped my eyes just as she reappeared. “I’m going up to get dressed and then I’ll drive you down to the store.”
She crunched her bacon and said, “Ansley, my abilities have not completely deteriorated since I told you about the cancer yesterday. I am perfectly able to walk one block to your store.”
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, MOMwas perched on a bar stool behind the counter of my store, Leah was teaching her how to use our point-of-sale system, and, despite my excitement over designing a pair of custom chaise lounges for Jack’s house, I could feel my eyelids starting to get heavy. As if he sensed my exhaustion from several blocks away, Coffee Kyle appeared.
“Oh,” I said, practically running to meet him. “Bless you!”
He laughed. “And to think, my parents wanted me to be a doctor, lawyer, or missionary. There’s no way those things could have been as satisfying as this.”
He handed me a cup and I said, “Trust me, you’ll save far more innocent lives doing what you do now.”
Kyle smiled. “Now, before you take a sip, you should know you three ladies are my guinea pigs. I’m trying to switch some of my regulars on to drinks with less sugar.” He looked at me pointedly and said, “Prevent cancer, all of that.”
How did he know? I hadn’t told anyone except Sandra and Emily. But this was Peachtree Bluff. No one could keep a secret around here. Well, no one except for Jack and me.
“I want the sugar,” Mom said. “If I’m going down, I’d like to go down with a mocha Frappuccino in one hand and a Hershey’s bar in the other.”
We all laughed.
“Just hear me out,” Kyle said. “This is my new latte made with unsweetened cashew milk, raw cocoa powder, cinnamon, a dash of chocolate stevia, and a touch of matcha tea and maca powder for added health benefits.”
I was going to hate it. I knew it. Leah, Mom, and I took simultaneous sips. I was expecting a flat, thin latte with practically no flavor and that disgusting stevia aftertaste, but what I got was a cup of heaven.
“This is my new usual,” I said. “Kyle, you are a genius.”
