When Shane spoke again, he sounded like his regular self. “Oh, yeah, I’m good,” he said. “I have a client who is… well, he’s a bit of a pill, but I’m getting through it. Anyway, I didn’t call to talk about my job. I spend enough time on that as it is. Tell me about you? How’s your store coming? How’s your fella?”
“Oh my gosh,” she said on a surprised laugh. “Don’t call him my ‘fella.’ You sound like Mom!”
They had sadly lost their mother several years prior, but talking to her brother reminded Eleanor of some of the fondest memories of her.
“Do you remember when I brought home my first girlfriend in high school and Mom called her ‘a real fine gal?’ I thought I was going to drop dead of embarrassment.”
Their mother had been an old school Midwestern mom, the kind who served hot lunch every day, who went to the local supper club every Wednesday night for bingo with her friends, and who had never left the house without her hair done up in big curls.
“Well, if you’re ever really missing her, just call me. I’ll put on my most Indiana accent and call your latest girlfriend ‘a sweet little muffin.’”
He laughed hard at her imitation of their mother’s accent.
“Okay, okay, stop distracting me!” Shane said. “Tell me about how everything is going!”
“Well, not to brag,” she said. “But it’s pretty much all amazing.”
She told him all about her household projects and all the ways she was improving her construction skills… even if shedidexaggerate just the teeniest, tiniest bit.
“Honestly, even the annoying stuff feels not too bad because I know it’s all part of turning my beautiful bookstore from dream to reality,” she gushed. “Like right now, I’m painting the trim, which I hate, but it’s not even that bad! Later, I have to clean the gutters. But it’s all worth it.”
“Okay, well, one, please get that fella?—”
“Oh my gosh, Shane!”
“—of yours to help you hold the ladder. And two, I’m kind of jealous.”
One sad comment she could overlook, but two?
“Shane, what’s going on,” she asked, using her best no-nonsense older sister voice. “You sound… I don’t know. Is everything okay?”
Shane blew out a slow breath. “Yes. Before you get worried, yes, everything is fine. I just… well, work used to be this thing that energized me. And recently it feels like the thing that’s sapping my energy. And that’s a tough position when you work the kind of hours that I do.”
“Oh, honey,” she said sympathetically. “Do you have any vacation time saved up? Do you think you could cut back on your hours?”
“Okay, slow down, super sister,” he said with a laugh. “I’m not a little kid anymore. I don’t need you to solve my problems. It’s a slump. It’ll pass. Not everybody is living their dream job like you in your picturesque little down,” he teased.
“But—” she protested.
“It’s me, Shane, your brother,” he reminded her. “Not Jeremy. Sorry, mother hen. Send your energy elsewhere.”
She sighed.
“Fine,” she said. “I will not bother you, even though I should be allowed to, as is my right as an older sister. But fine. Solve your own problems. See if I care.”
Her offhand tone was not at all convincing, and Shane laughed. This made her feel a little better. At least she could lift her brother’s mood if nothing else.
They chatted for a little while longer, but eventually Shane had to attend a meeting and Eleanor had finished painting the trim.
“Call me soon,” she told him. “It’s the only thing that will keep my mother hen powers at bay. Okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed. “Love you, sis. Talk soon.”
While she waited for her coat of paint to dry, Eleanor set up the ladder against the side of her house. Garrett wasn’t present to hold it, no matter Shane’s directives, but hehadcoached Eleanor through properly locking all the mechanisms that would make climbing the ladder safe.
Eleanor donned a pair of rubber gloves under thick gardening gloves. She might have been telling the truth when she told Shane that even tasks like cleaning the gutters took on a new shine when put in context with her bookstore project, but that didn’t mean she actually wanted to touch any of the gunk she was going to clean out.
She was just planning her attack for the matted leaves and sticks that had gathered in the gutters when she heard a polite clearing of the throat and then an equally proper, “Excuse me.”
