I channel my inner Mindy and do some deep breathing, focusing on this moment, and ask myself what I need to do next. Worrying won't solve anything. As Jo would always remind me when I got anxious back in college, “Worry is the illusion of control.”
I will give Luke’s company a few days to call me about returning the items, and then, if I don't hear from him, I will be very professional and contact him about it. Surely, I can find the info for his business online. I smile in response to how utterly practical and grown-up I am being.I got this.
I also stop to think,what else do I need right now?The new inventory is under control. Anna has the store until closing, and what I need is food followed by a nap. A nap sounds glorious. I’ve gotta start taking better care of myself, as the resurgence of my waking dreams indicates, and Mindy has reminded me.
First, I will offer Anna a part-time position. She did an excellent job this weekend and is such a wonderful help, great with the customers, and easy to get along with.Please accept,I plead in my mind.
I walk back out to the front of the store as she is ringing out yet another customer. I think I could have her put out some of the new stock during her next shift, too. That will get her familiar with the restocking and the inventory.
Looks like I now need an inventory management system since I won’t be the only one working here. I had always just kept it all in my head, but that will no longer be practical with more than one person handling everything.
As soon as the customer is back out the door, I approach her with my offer.
* * *
Fueledby my commitment to take better care of myself, I decide to head to the store to pick up some groceries. As I hop back into the bug, I think over my conversation with Anna while I make the short drive.
Not only was she thrilled with my offer, she somehow talked me into two days per week straight away and would research not only inventory management, but was excited to develop our social media accounts.
I had been hoping for some time for myself and time to work on the business, and now I’ve not only met those goals, but Anna is bringing bonus features. She also promised to do some gluten-free cooking!
Hiring her is brilliant, and as much as I love Grimm, I am thrilled to not only grow the business with someone to help me, but am also enormously relieved to not be carrying the load solely on my shoulders anymore.
In my head, she already seems more like a partner than an hourly employee with all the great ideas she bubbled over with. I feel a renewed sense of excitement over the business I’ve loved for years now.
Buzzing on a second wind, I walk around the store, actually picking out some healthy foods since I'm energized enough to think about cooking. I even buy some green vegetables.
I still get drawn in by the freezer aisle and pick out a few assorted flavors of my favorite gelato. I can’t wait to try the new strawberry champagne flavor. Feeling magnanimous, I even grab a bag of treats for my hateful cat.
I check out and load my bags into my car and head back home. The sun is shining brightly in an azure blue sky and, for once, the perfect summer temperature warms my skin without suffocating me.
I'm on top of the world. This is my time. I feel, well, I feel great. I drive back to Grimm with my hand out the window, letting the air make my hand fly. It reminds me of being a kid, pretending my hand was a bird as I made it go up and down as the wind rushed by.
I gather all the groceries in my arms, committed to making just one trip, no matter the price. Lucifer helpfully picks this time to show up and wind his way between my ankles as I precariously make my way up the stairs. I juggle the bags as I unlock the door and my cat bolts through ahead of me, probably disappointed he wasn’t able to knock me down after all.
I walk through the door, surprised by the intense aroma of roses. I look around and am shocked to find vases upon vases of roses on the counter, the end tables, the coffee table, and the kitchen island. I drop the groceries on the floor and go to the closest vase, reaching out to stroke the petals.
The flowers are a deep dark red, the color so rich and velvety they bleed to black. I have never seen roses like this. They are simply stunning.
Their smell is intoxicating without being overpowering, exactly like my favorite rose perfume. As I caress the petals and stare into the velvety depths, I jerk my hand back, realizing that someone has been in my house.
Someone has brought roses into my home! I search around my open-concept main floor, but nothing else seems out of place. The TV is there, and I doubt a burglar would break in to steal things and leave this many flowers behind. That would be the most bizarre theft in the world's history.
I glance over at the stairs up to my bedroom. There could be a psycho killer hanging out up there. I guess this could be some strange, elaborate murder set up, but that doesn’t quite seem plausible.
“Lucifer, stop that,” I scold the cat as he happily chomps on an arrangement on an end table. Oddly, I don’t feel nearly as scared as I presumably should. Still, probably isn’t the smartest idea to walk up the stairs by myself though.
I grab my cell out of my back pocket and call Jo for backup. Not that she can do anything other than ring the police if I am attacked, but it seems like a good plan.
“‘Sup bish.”
I whisper yell, “Seriously? That’s how you answer the phone?”
“Caller ID. I knew it was you. How was Philly? Did you go to pound town with Carrot Top?”
“Jo! Shut. Up. This is serious. I need you to focus.”
“Why are you whispering? Wait, does Carrot Top have you locked in a closet? Press the number nine if you need help.”
