the moment; it was everyone else who was.
“But I am glad
you came by,” she said, changing the subject. “I have an idea I want to run by
you.”
“Sure,” I
said, grateful to have the attention off me and my problems. “What do you have
in mind?”
“Okay,” she
began, pushing some paperwork aside. “I’ve always thought it would be fun to
offer some classes here at the store on decorating. You know, how to make a
centerpiece, creating a color palette, those sorts of things.” She paused,
obviously waiting for my reaction.
“That sounds
neat,” I said. “I’d go to one.”
“You think?”
she asked. I nodded, so she went on. “Well, then I came up with the idea the
other day, if the first one goes well, to offer a series. My vision is to take
one of the room displays and rework it as a fresh slate. Design it as an
everyday space, something anyone could live with.”
That sounded
easy. Create a relatively boring, safe room that wouldn’t intimidate anyone...
“And then,” she cut into my thoughts, “change up the accessories for each
season or holiday. We’d keep the same basic pieces, same paint, but switch out
the tablescape, the pillows, the accessories for every season.”
“I like
that,” I said. And I really did. “It’s so practical. Most people aren’t going
to change the bones of a room for seasonal decor. That plan would really help
them see how they could apply the changing decor to their own space.” And give
them a built-in shopping list they could fulfill at Dwell.
“Exactly,”
she said, snapping her fingers for emphasis. “I’ve never done it, though,
because I’ve never had someone who could do it. But now that you’re
here...”
“Wait a
second,” I said, backing up from the counter a bit. “You want me to
teach a class. Here ? On decorating ?”
“Yes, that’s
exactly what I want. You know your stuff, Brooke. And you’re a teacher, so you
know how to prepare and how to present information. You’re perfect for this. Of
course,” she continued, “I would increase your pay. And pay you on a contract
basis after the summer ends. You could work a day here or there changing the
room over.”
My mind was
moving in a hundred different directions. Did I want to be more creative? Have
others admire my work? Make more money? Well, yeah. Who wouldn’t? But this was
supposed to be a part time summer job, one with a definite end point. Still, it
sounded fun. And so without over-analyzing, without asking anyone’s permission,
without hesitating, I answered her.
“Okay,” I
said. “I’ll do it.”
Chapter 13
“T hat’s awesome, Brooke! You were made
for that.” It was later that night, and I was talking to Aaron, of course,
while eating dinner--pepperoni and mushroom pizza, of course. I’d been
questioning my answer to Caryn all afternoon, vacillating between excitement
that she’d asked me to take on such a large project and doubt in my abilities
to succeed.
“I don’t
know...” I said. “Teaching English to teenagers is one thing; teaching decor to
a bunch of women old enough to be my mother is quite another.”
“Whatever,”
he said. “You can do anything you set your mind to, Brooke.”
I rolled my
eyes. “You love a cliché, don’t you?” I teased him.
“Always. But
it’s true. And it is truer of you than anyone else I have ever known.” The list
flashed into my mind: #26-Gets excited about my accomplishments. Finding
a guy just like Aaron was going to be nearly impossible. Strike the nearly.
Impossible.
“So, you’re
going to do it, right?” he asked.
“I guess so,”
I said. “I mean, I already told her I would. It’d look pretty bad to back out.”
“Good,” he
said matter-of-factly. “You’ll be great. So what else exciting happened today?”
“Nothing,” I
said, but I hesitated too long before answering, and he saw through it
immediately.
“What
happened?”
“My mother,”
I said finally. “But I’m not
“But I am glad
you came by,” she said, changing the subject. “I have an idea I want to run by
you.”
“Sure,” I
said, grateful to have the attention off me and my problems. “What do you have
in mind?”
“Okay,” she
began, pushing some paperwork aside. “I’ve always thought it would be fun to
offer some classes here at the store on decorating. You know, how to make a
centerpiece, creating a color palette, those sorts of things.” She paused,
obviously waiting for my reaction.
“That sounds
neat,” I said. “I’d go to one.”
“You think?”
she asked. I nodded, so she went on. “Well, then I came up with the idea the
other day, if the first one goes well, to offer a series. My vision is to take
one of the room displays and rework it as a fresh slate. Design it as an
everyday space, something anyone could live with.”
That sounded
easy. Create a relatively boring, safe room that wouldn’t intimidate anyone...
“And then,” she cut into my thoughts, “change up the accessories for each
season or holiday. We’d keep the same basic pieces, same paint, but switch out
the tablescape, the pillows, the accessories for every season.”
“I like
that,” I said. And I really did. “It’s so practical. Most people aren’t going
to change the bones of a room for seasonal decor. That plan would really help
them see how they could apply the changing decor to their own space.” And give
them a built-in shopping list they could fulfill at Dwell.
“Exactly,”
she said, snapping her fingers for emphasis. “I’ve never done it, though,
because I’ve never had someone who could do it. But now that you’re
here...”
“Wait a
second,” I said, backing up from the counter a bit. “You want me to
teach a class. Here ? On decorating ?”
“Yes, that’s
exactly what I want. You know your stuff, Brooke. And you’re a teacher, so you
know how to prepare and how to present information. You’re perfect for this. Of
course,” she continued, “I would increase your pay. And pay you on a contract
basis after the summer ends. You could work a day here or there changing the
room over.”
My mind was
moving in a hundred different directions. Did I want to be more creative? Have
others admire my work? Make more money? Well, yeah. Who wouldn’t? But this was
supposed to be a part time summer job, one with a definite end point. Still, it
sounded fun. And so without over-analyzing, without asking anyone’s permission,
without hesitating, I answered her.
“Okay,” I
said. “I’ll do it.”
Chapter 13
“T hat’s awesome, Brooke! You were made
for that.” It was later that night, and I was talking to Aaron, of course,
while eating dinner--pepperoni and mushroom pizza, of course. I’d been
questioning my answer to Caryn all afternoon, vacillating between excitement
that she’d asked me to take on such a large project and doubt in my abilities
to succeed.
“I don’t
know...” I said. “Teaching English to teenagers is one thing; teaching decor to
a bunch of women old enough to be my mother is quite another.”
“Whatever,”
he said. “You can do anything you set your mind to, Brooke.”
I rolled my
eyes. “You love a cliché, don’t you?” I teased him.
“Always. But
it’s true. And it is truer of you than anyone else I have ever known.” The list
flashed into my mind: #26-Gets excited about my accomplishments. Finding
a guy just like Aaron was going to be nearly impossible. Strike the nearly.
Impossible.
“So, you’re
going to do it, right?” he asked.
“I guess so,”
I said. “I mean, I already told her I would. It’d look pretty bad to back out.”
“Good,” he
said matter-of-factly. “You’ll be great. So what else exciting happened today?”
“Nothing,” I
said, but I hesitated too long before answering, and he saw through it
immediately.
“What
happened?”
“My mother,”
I said finally. “But I’m not
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