“Not at all.” Garrett squeezed her arm. “Waiting is hard, even if it’s waiting for something good. Sometimes especially when it’s waiting for something good.”
“Whoever decided it should be that way is going to get a very sternly worded letter from me,” she grumbled, which made him laugh.
Eleanor had to admit that did make her feel a little bit better. She might be frustrated half out of her mind, but at least she had a great support system, one that started with her wonderful boyfriend.
Herboyfriend. Thinking the word still gave her a little thrill of happiness. So, indeed, not all was as terrible as it seemed.
For a little while, she and Garrett worked in companionable quiet, hanging up the various decorations that Eleanor had planned for the shop. She tried hard to ignore the glaringly open space in the middle of her near-perfect room, the gaping woundin her vision where the beautiful bookshelf would belong… if it ever arrived.
Eventually, she could not take it anymore. Eleanor hung up the last sign in her hands, the one that showed customers where to find books on gardening and nature, then crossed over to where she had stashed her phone. She opened the tracking app and…
“Oh no!” she cried, the reality of what she was seeing striking her. “Oh, goodness. Oh, no!”
“What’s wrong?” Garrett jumped at her cry of dismay.
She waved a hand at him to indicate that nobody was hurt, even though she meant that only in the physical sense. Emotionally, she felt pretty close to tears.
The bookshelf was delayed… again.
Arrival date: to be determined, her screen read.
They couldn’t even give her a date to expect it!
Eleanor’s stress felt suddenly too huge to bear. She put her phone down on the counter and dropped her head into her hands. She felt Garrett come up beside her and bend down to read the screen.
“Oh, honey,” he said consolingly, rubbing her shoulders. “That stinks. But it’s not the end of the world! You still have more than a week before your opening. It will get here.”
“I know,” she said, even though itdidkind of feel like the end of the world at the moment. “I just want it to be perfect.”
“I know you do,” he commiserated. “But listen. We’ll give it a few more days, see what’s happening with the shelf. And if it comes down to the wire, we’ll figure something out. Besides, when everyone shows up for your triumphant grand opening, they’ll think, ‘Wow, look how amazing this all is!’ and not, ‘Hey, where is that fancy bookshelf that goes in the middle?’ I promise. It’s all going to be okay.”
She struggled to feel anything other than that this was a huge disaster, but still, Eleanor listened to the low rumble of Garrett’s voice and focused on the soothing way he rubbed circles on her back. It did all make her feel a little bit better.
“What would I do without you?” she asked.
He pecked a kiss on her head. “Dumb question,” he told her, “since you’re never going to have to find out.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Okay, bug,” Anthony said to Eloise, who was bouncing so excitedly that she looked like she had springs in her shoes. “Should we each get our own treat, or get two and share them?”
Eloise paused in her bouncing, giving this question the serious consideration that it merited. They had come to Honey Bee Bakery for an afternoon pick-me-up and some quality dad and daughter time. One of his favorite parts about being his own boss was that he could do this sort of thing, could duck out of work on a whim for a little bit on a Wednesday afternoon, just to spend some time with his favorite kid in the world.
“Sharing,” she said eventually. “But we each get to pick one.”
“Very fair,” he agreed. “I like your style.”
Eloise gave a happy shrug. “Thanks, Daddy.”
Anthony grinned down at his daughter. It was tough to be a single parent, but there were moments like this that reminded him that he wouldn’t trade it for the world. There was nobody he loved more than Eloise. He didn’t think he was flattering himself to say she was an exceptionally great kid either.
They finally got to the front of the line of the crowded bakery and ordered a pecan sticky bun, Anthony’s choice, and a strawberry donut, Eloise’s choice. From the wide-eyed way hisdaughter was looking at the glossy pink donut, Anthony thought that their sharing plan might be soon to evaporate. He wasn’t certain that he minded; the donut looked so sweet that his teeth hurt a little just looking at it.
The sacrifices one made for their children, he supposed.
They were waiting at the pick-up counter when Eloise let out a sudden squeal of delight.
“Oh, Ms. Diana is here!” she exclaimed. “I have to go tell her how much I loveLittle Women!”
