“Where is this coming from?” my sister asks. “All the effort we’ve put in, the new website, the cooking class—”
“You guys’ help was so appreciated,” I say. “And I’m glad we gave it a shot, I really am. But the store’s revenue is still pretty dismal. If we don’t choose to close it now, I expect we’ll be forced to a year from now. And a year from now we won’t have the offer from the Andrews Corporation on the table.”
“We don’t even know what that offer is,” Caleb says. “I thought we basically told them to go to hell.”
Another deep breath. “Actually, we do know the details of their offer. Sylvia’s still on retainer, and I had her get in touch with their attorney to learn the specifics. She came back and said that speaking as a lawyer and longtime friend of the family, if we want to close our doors, we can’t do it under better terms.”
“Is this about Sebastian Andrews?” Lily demands. “Oh my God! That’s why he was hanging around all the time. To wear you down so you’d stop seeing him as the enemy.”
“This isn’t about Sebastian. I haven’t seen him in weeks. Not since the cooking class.”
I don’t tell them that the fact that I haven’t heard from him has led me to the same conclusion Lily’s reached—that perhaps he was sticking around not because of any interest in me as a person, but to soften my perception of him so the offer on the table was no longer coming from an enemy, but… a friend?
If that was the case, he must have had a crisis of conscience, because he hasn’t been around the shop, and maybe that’s just as well. Maybe it’s the same reason I had Bubbles & More’s lawyer take care of all official correspondence. I may know in my heart that it’s the right path, but it doesn’t mean my heart doesn’t also hurt that I couldn’t make Bubbles work for the sake of my dad’s memory—that I couldn’t learn to love it like my parents did.
The whimsical part of me, the one that sings to pigeons, wants to keep my memories of Sebastian Andrews as far away from that pain as possible.
Caleb takes a sip of his sparkling water, stares at the can a moment, as though surprised to see it there, then sets it aside and looks back at the camera. “Okay, I’m just going to come out and say it. This is sort of an about-face from where we were a month ago. Maybe if we had Alec look over the numbers—”
“I did,” Alec interjects. “Gracie’s correct about the state of the store’s finances.”
He takes his wife’s hand as he says it, and Lily glances over, blinking away tears. Even in my melancholy mood, I feel a warm feeling in my chest at the silent spousal connection that’s both sweet and envy inducing.
When my sister turns back to the computer screen, her blue eyes have taken on a warrior’s glint. “This is on me and Caleb. We didn’t give you the support you need, Gracie, and the help we did provide was too little and too late. That ends now. Caleb, the new website looks great—I’m assuming you can add an e-commerce component, right? We can research what it takes to ship to different states—we can be the country’s champagne resource, not just Midtown’s. It’ll be expensive to move into that space, but we can get a loan, we can grow the team—”
“Lil.” I interrupt her softly and take the hand Alec’s not holding, squeezing gently. I wait for her to look back at me, then speak the truth that’s been quietly building inside me for weeks. Maybe longer. “I don’t want that.”
She blinks. “What do you mean?”
“I realize closing the store can’t be a unilateral decision. If you want to keep it open, I’m happy to hand over the reins, but I need to step back. I want to step back.”
“But you love Bubbles,” Caleb protests. “It’s always been your and Dad’s thing—”
“It was Dad’s thing,” I clarify, firmly but gently. “It was never mine. I stepped in only because it was so important to Dad that it stay open, and in the family, and I realized it was going to be me or no one.”
“Gracie, why didn’t you tell us?” My sister looks stricken.
“I should have,” I say. “Though I’m not sure I ever really admitted it to myself until recently. I don’t blame you. Either of you.” I look at Caleb. “But I also can’t keep living for Dad, or for you guys. I have to live for me.”
“I respect that,” Caleb says quietly. “Though I still get to feel like an ass for acting like a baby about keeping the store open, when I didn’t do much at all to help.”
“Same,” Lily says. She inhales and holds her breath for a second. “The deal is good?” She looks at me again.
“It’s fair,” I say. “And it provides severance for the staff, which is most important to me.”
She nods. “Okay. I trust you.”
“Me too,” Caleb says, then looks at me and grins. “But now I’m dying to know… what will you do?”
“I have no idea,” I say honestly. “But the severance will give me a bit of a buffer to figure it out.”
Everyone nods, but there’s a lingering silence that hangs in the air. Not awkward, not angry. Just a little bit sad as we all come to grips with what lies ahead. I thought I’d made peace with my dad’s passing, but this feels a bit like saying goodbye to him all over again.
Lily is the first to break the silence. “So, we’re doing this?”
“Just tell me where to sign,” Caleb says. His smile slips. “Damn. It’s sad though, isn’t it? End of an era.”
“No, no, no,” Lily says, waving her hands. “We’re not going to think like that. This is the right thing to do, and deep down, we all know it.”
She’s right. I do know it. And so I let my family try to distract me from the fact that I’m about to be unemployed with pizza and wine. I continue to badger my brother about meeting his girlfriend.
I smile. I laugh.
When I leave my sister’s place, I feel the lightest I’ve felt in years.
And then I get on the subway and see the latest message from Sir.
My dear Lady,
First, my apologies for the delayed response. Out of respect for everything you are to me, I wanted to give your suggestion the consideration it deserves.
I’m tempted. You have no idea how tempted, how long I’ve wondered what you look like, what it would be like to hear your voice, to see your face as we talk about nothing. And everything.
But it’s with immense regret—if nothing else, please believe my regret—that I must decline your offer. Not for always, but for now, the time isn’t right for me to introduce a new variable into my life.
Please understand. Please.
I hope we might continue on as we have been. If not, if you’re looking for something else, something more… I’ll understand.
Yours in regret,
Sir
* * *
To Sir, with reassurances,
Please don’t think a thing of it. Of course we can go on as we’ve been! Here, I’ll get us started. An important topic I find it hard to believe we haven’t discussed yet: reality TV. Is there anything better? The drama? The suspense? The sheer juiciness of it all…