The alarm on my phone buzzes. “I gotta go.” I kiss my mom on her forehead and retrieve my bag from the kitchen chair, looping it around my head and across my chest.
“Already? You don’t usually leave so soon,” Mom mumbles with a sewing pin in her mouth, making her words nearly incoherent. Luckily, I’ve learned to interpret pin-in-mouth—my mom’s been speaking it since before I was born.
“I need to pick up something for Paige before work.”
Work.I scrub a hand through my hair, feeling the day’s exhaustion before it has even begun. Today, Rob and I have to finish the conversation I cut short when I left to pick up Paige last night.
My thumb fidgets with the strap across my chest. I have to tell Rob we are not expanding the business to the West Coast, even though the thought bites at me like a Colorado winter. I can already see the disappointment on Rob’s face. Sometimes I hate being the boss.
I take one last look at Mom. Her fingers tremble as she pushes each pin through the joined fabrics. My heart physically aches watching her struggle so much to do something she loves.
I caused that.
The thought instantly hardens my resolve, turning it into stone. No matter what Rob or anyone else thinks, I am making the right decision to keep the business local. I could never leave Mom.
“Go get your girl,” Mom advises before pressing the sewing pedal, bringing the sewing machine rumbling to life.
I shake my head, knowing she won’t let the relationship-with-Paige conversation rest until I’m dead or married to someone else. “I’ll send you the info for the water-aerobics class,” I say, but Mom doesn’t seem to hear me over the roar of her sewing machine.
Knowing Mom, I’ll bet that was exactly what she was going for.
Chapter 5
PAIGE
Whoever came up with the term “bundle of nerves” has obviously never experienced nerves before. A bundle suggests something contained, and my nerves are anything but that right now. They’re bouncing around inside me like a legion of gremlins that have just been given free rein to gnaw on my nervous system.
“Where is my phone?” Panicking, I upend a couch cushion in the living room, but seeing nothing but a few pretzels and a paperclip, I do the same to the rest of the cushions. No phone.
I get down on my stomach and stretch my arm into the void under our couch, pulling it back out with a few months’ worth ofdust and an index card marked with a bunch of rectangles and some numbers scribbled at the bottom. It looks like Ji's writing.
“You ready to go?” Ji peers over the couch and eyes me in my tan power suit, now adorned with the ghosts of dust bunnies past. “What are you looking for?”
“Here.” I pass her the index card as I get to my feet and brush off my suit.
She looks at it. “It’s the seating chart from Mr. and Mrs. Kellan’s fiftieth anniversary. This was a year ago.”
How she could recall that from a few scribbled shapes and numbers is beyond me. But Ji is the J.Lo of wedding planning and event planning—any planning, really—so attention to detail is literally her job.
“Have you seen my phone?” I dash into our kitchen and frisk the countertops and table for the second time that morning. I already feel bad Ji has to drive me to work today since Dory is still getting fixed—now my missing-phone debacle will probably make Ji late to work.
When I look under a water pitcher, Ji grabs me by the arm. “Okay, breathe.” She makes exaggerated breathing noises as if to demonstrate. “Let me just give your phone a call.”
I nod and wait as Ji calls my phone. As I expected, her call goes straight to my voicemail.
“Okay, your phone must be dead.” Ji puts her phone in her purse. “When was the last time you used it?”
I stop to give Ji my full attention and notice she is wearing the charcoal version of my pantsuit. We’re a Dolly Parton short of a9 to 5music video, but that’s what you get when you go in on a BOGO sale with one of your closest friends.
I zone in, trying to break past my nerves and think clearly. “I had it on my date last night when I called Jordan.”
“And you and I talked after he picked you up. Then what?” Ji asks.
“Then I put my phone in his cup holder… or maybe I brought it home and put it on the table.” I put a hand on my forehead, and once again, I mentally retrace my steps from the night before.Jordan picked me up from the date. Ji called. Then I put my phone into…“My purse! I put it in my purse after I talked to you. Then I left my purse in Jordan’s car. It’s in Jordan’s car.”
Ji instantly pulls out her phone. “I’m texting Jordan to let him know he has your phone.”
“Thanks, Ji. You are a lifesaver.” I run a hand down my suit, smoothing out a wrinkle. “Now I just need to get to work to see if I’ll have a full-time job come next month.”
