“You don't want the shop?”
She shook her head viciously.“No!No, it's not that.I… wasn't expecting this.”
“You weren't?”A peal of disbelieving giggles escaped Beatrice.“Then why did you do all this?You must have known I couldn't manage the shop anymore.”
“I-I—” Lilian stammered, but no reply would come out.Had she known?Deep in her heart, had she suspected her mother wouldn't be able to return to the shop?
Maybe.
A part of her knew that was a risk.And still, she'd done all that work, all that care.“Is this because you’re dying?”
“Dying?”Her mother laughed, squeezing her tighter.Her hand cupped Lilian’s cheek, gently easing her gaze up until they were looking at each other.“No, honey.I wanted to give you this because you’ve earned it.This shop is as much yours as it is mine.More so, given all the work you’ve put into it.It is yours to do with as you like.If you want to increase the prices, you can do that.If you want to sell only fantasy novels, by all means go ahead.If you want to sell it…”
“Sell it?”Lilian repeated.
Beatrice gave her a knowing smile.“You can if you want,” she finished.“It’s yours now.Do whatever you want.I don’t know what is marketable.Or how to make a profit.If we need to turn this place into a cowboy-themed coffee shop to get customers in, then let’s do it.”
The cracked heart, her aching chest.All the pain ceased with her mother’s encouragement.It was a healing salve.Mom magic.Her fingers clung to her mother’s hand like she was five years old again.“Mom, I am so grateful, but I don't know.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s yours!”Lilian said.“This place is its own thing.I love it, really, I do, but it’s not mine to run.”
Well, that made no sense when she said it out loud, but it was the truth.She'd spent a lot of time in the shop.Years!It would always be her mother's, a sacred space where Lilian felt comfortable, but it wasn’t hers.
Not like Bodice and Brawn.
Another ache of grief hit her at the memory.She swallowed it quickly, unwilling to let it ruin this moment.
Beatrice nodded as if all her rambling and tears made complete sense.“Well, then, make it yours.”
“What?”
“Get rid of everything.Turn it into a bakery, for all I care.”
“Mom, no.That's not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant.”Her mother flashed her another smile.“You need this to beyourstore.All right, then do it.”
“You don't mean that,” Lilian said in disbelief.Ten Cents Books had been her mother's baby.How was she all right with giving it to Lilian, who would completely change it?
“I do.”Beatrice pushed the paperwork toward her gently.“It's yours to do with as you wish.If you don’t want it… I suppose we can—”
“No,” Lilian practically shouted.
Her mother smiled.“I know this place gave you meaning in your life.You want to—no, youneedit to be a success.And that won’t happen here in Tenison.And that’s okay.What matters is that this place is yours to do whatever you want.”
She looked back down at the piece of paper.It was so small, a single paper that was likely part of a stack of official documents, but this was the one she had to sign.
And then the shop would be hers.
She wouldn't need to dwell on the loss of Bodice and Brawn.She could revive it, not at the faire but as arealshop.Lilian swallowed hard.
It would mean more work.Starting over.Rebuilding.Taking a risk.
No, taking an opportunity.
It stung that even in this moment, Hawk’s advice haunted her.And that it was so damn applicable.
