It didn't work.
I frowned as I read the message from Donna, a new customer who had come in a few days ago. The store was closed, and I was responding to emails before I went home. According to Donna, the collagen peptides I had recommended for her joint pain hadn't worked.
I tapped out an answer, explaining they weren't a one-time fix and she had to take them regularly. I encouraged her to continue adding the powder to her smoothies and other beverages, and she should notice a gradual improvement.
When I finished, I jotted a few notes for the winter reset class I taught each year. One night a week for four weeks, I educated first-timers and regulars on how to support their immune system during the winter months, manage stiffness as the weather changed, and improve their energy and mood as the days became shorter.
After closing the store, I waved to Mrs. Chen and her husband as I left. As usual, being alone with my thoughts thrust me back in time to the incident at the bakery. Since then, Shelley had stopped in twice at my center to apologize and offered to bake the wedding cake for free.
The first time, I gave her a firmNo. The second time she came in, it was clear she wouldn't be satisfied until she had somehow rectified the situation. But we were friends, and while what happened had been a horrible mistake, it was a mistake nonetheless. I didn't want to take advantage of her guilt and offered to pay half price for the cake, which she accepted.
We were both happy. I received a discount on the cake, and she got the peace of mind she had been craving—which I hadn't been able to achieve myself.
My mind inevitably drifted to what happened between me and Jamison last Friday evening. Well, nothing had actuallyhappened, but I was definitely more aware of him. My face burned with embarrassment at the thought of us almost locking lips, and we would have if our kids hadn't arrived when they did.
Manuel had told Blossom that his father had suffered the ill effects of the edibles as well. Though he had slept through the night, when Manuel checked on him the following morning, he had been nauseous and only able to eat crackers until his appetite came back around the middle of the day. If I had to guess, he suffered from a low tolerance to cannabis. Something we had in common.
Eventually, I put Jamison out of my mind and spent the rest of the ride home contemplating the upcoming wedding. By the time I parked in the driveway, I had a few ideas to run by Blossom.
Walking through the door, the appealing scent of simmering spaghetti sauce filled with basil and garlic greeted me.
"Mom, is that you?" Blossom called out.
"No, I'm a serial killer," I called back, heading toward the kitchen.
She was standing at the stove, a small spoon near her lips. "Not funny," she said, before tasting the sauce.
I placed my satchel on the table, which was once again strewn with magazines and sheets of paper as she planned her big day.
I sat down. "How is it?" I already knew the sauce was delicious. My daughter was a great cook. She took after me.
"Yummy." She did the happy booty dance she had been doing since she was a teen and then tossed the spoon in the sink. "Dinner is almost ready. I'll let the sauce simmer for a few more minutes."
"Thanks for cooking," I said.
She shrugged. "It's the least I could do since I'm mooching off you."
"You're my daughter. You're not mooching."
"I don't have a job. I'm not paying rent. I'm not payinganybills." She counted each item on her fingers. "Mooching."
"One more time, you are my daughter. You arealwayswelcome here, whether or not you're working."
Leaning against the counter, she rested her hands on her hips and smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, Mom."
"That includes in the future, if your marital situation changes."
She rolled her eyes. "You couldn't help yourself, could you? When are you going to accept that just because Manuel and I are getting married quickly, it doesn't mean we don't love each other?"
"I'm aware. I'm your mother, probably the most open-minded person you know. But I'm simply pointing out your situation could change in the future. Your father and I were in love too. Your cousin Jay-Jay and his wife were in love. Things change, people change, situations change, and one day you might want to walk away. I want you to know my door is always open for you. This is a soft place for you to land."
"Thanks, but I'm confident it won't be necessary."
I didn't want to belabor the point and dampen her happiness. "I guess not, since Manuel bought you a ginormous ring," I teased.
She and Manuel had finally found a set of rings they both loved.
"It's nice, isn't it?"
