He leaned against one of the glass display cases as he considered it. He could almost feel Mia’s elbow poking into his ribs. Being smart was knowing when to use talent better than his own.
“Okay,” he said.
Aanya provided a warm smile. “Good. I can start now. Do you want me to tell you my ideas?”
“No, it’s fine. I trust you.” Ross scratched his jawline. “You know, I’ve been thinking about a new line of jewelry. What do you think of a small bird’s nest with a gem in the middle? I can make rings, necklaces, brooches.”
“Yes. I like that. We can do a lovely display with blossoms and branches.”
He smiled. “Yeah, that would be great. I’m calling it my Penelope jewelry.”
“Penelope?” Aanya scrunched her face in amusement. “We can come up with a better name later. First, you need to make it.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Both he and Hermes moved toward the workshop door, a boost of energy sweeping through him. Making something new might take his mind off other more depressing topics. Plus, when he finished, he could share an image with Mia for her opinion. He liked the idea of being able to talk to her again.
Ross stopped at the threshold. “Thanks, Aanya. I’ve…uh…really liked having you here at the store.”
She patted his arm. “You’re a good boss. Now go make your Penelope jewelry.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Mia sat ather mother’s sewing machine table, flipping through the pile of quilt blocks as though they were a deck of cards. The muscles in her stomach were tense, but, for the first time, there was the knowledge she was finally doing something right.
The door downstairs opened and shut. There was a moment of silence before her father called out, “Mia?” He couldn’t have missed her car in the driveway.
“I’m in the craft room.”
Her father’s footsteps bounded the staircase before his form filled the doorway, concern etched in the lines on his face. “What’s wrong? Why are you home? Did something happen in Texas?”
“Nope.” Mia took a deep breath. “I’ve decided Texas is not for me.”
“Okay,” her father replied in a measured tone. “Do you know where you want to go?”
“I’m not going to any of them.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want to explore other options.”
“Do you have a plan?”
“So far my plan was only to come back here.”
The muscles along his jaw tightened. “Does your plan have something to do with Ross?”
“Well, only in that the plan relates to my life and I would like him in it, so yes.”
The judge shook his head. “This sounds like you’re giving up your dreams for a boy. I don’t like that and I know your mother wouldn’t have approved.”
She thought about this while running her fingers across her mother’s quilt squares. “Mom never finished her quilt.”
“I was saving it for you. I thought maybe someday you’d like to finish it.”
Mia released a bitter laugh. “Do you remember when she tried to teach me?”
“I remembered there was a bunch of complaining. But I think your mom would have loved it if you finished her quilt.”
“This might be disappointing to hear, but I don’t think I’m going to be a quilter or a lawyer.” She looked past the window to the old oak tree that stood in the front yard. She was part of both her parents but also neither one. She was simply Mia and she finally understood what her mom had meant that one time in the craft room. “I remember she told me that I needed to make my own quilt, because no one could do that for me. I don’t see it as giving up my dreams as much as it’s giving up someone I’m not, and embracing the possibility of seeing what a different quilt could look like, one that is truly me.”
