leave. Everything was so messy. She was messy. Her life was messy. She felt like an embarrassing guest on a daytime talk show, the kind where Suburban Moms Turned Beggars cried right before the commercial for the little lavender pill.
She felt a towel in her hand and dabbed at her eyes, the scent of almond calming her down. She sighed, turned to hand the towel back, and he took it with the same smile he’d worn when he’d wished her a happy Independence Day.
“You’ve met John.” Stella waved Mara’s attention back to the catalog pages.
“I, uh…” She felt her face flush.
Stella laughed. “Yep, that’s my boy.”
Before Mara could process that, she realized Celia was patting her arm in concern. She gave Celia the best smile she could manage. “I’m okay.”
“I didn’t mean anything…” Dylan shifted uncomfortably, “about you coming to Vancouver. I didn’t mean to make you, you know, cry.”
“It’s not you, Dylan. I have to… It’s just that…” God, she didn’t want to say it. The stranger, John, the good smelling son of Stella, watched her. She could feel it. None of them needed to hear the mess that was her current life. A bad credit card, honestly, it was so low budget.
Dylan still looked stressed. “I just meant that—”
“It’s okay, really. I… I just have to go back, and I really wanted… I just really wanted to spend longer here.”
“Then do it.” John assured her with the confidence of a man without a cancelled credit card or probably kids or a husband. Wait, that was wrong.
Stella stepped in. “Is everything okay with your son?”
Mara put her hand on Stella’s arm. God bless a mom who could mom a mom. She felt tears again, sniffed them away. “Logan’s fine. It’s just. It’s nothing.” But Stella watched her with that no bullshit look she was coming to need, and she blurted it out. “Dan cancelled my credit card.”
Stella snorted with amusement. “I’ll be damned. He didn’t look that gutsy.”
Mara cleared her throat to stop another wave of tears. He’d had a couple of surprisingly gutsy moments, enough that he was forcing her to leave. Of course, his job was easy because… “I’m a sheep.”
“You’re great,” Celia defended her against herself. “You’re cool.”
No one in the history of the Earth had ever spoken those words to her before. She took one last sniff. Celia’s delusions deserved some basis in reality. She, at least, wouldn’t cry anymore. “Thank you, Celia.”
“Listen,” Stella lifted up the pages they’d created for the new catalog. “These suck.” She pointed to a lightning bubble. “They Holy Shit, Batman suck.” Stella looked at John, and he nodded. “Tell you what. I’ll let you stay in the loft and give you money for food if you take a crack at the catalog.”
Everyone turned to her with such confidence she stopped breathing. It was absurd. “I can’t make a catalog. I’m a middle school teacher trainer.”
John smiled. “You’re a woman.”
It sounded significant when he said it, empowering, and kinda dirty. Kinda dirty? She wasn’t a middle school teacher trainer, she’d become a middle-schooler. But Stella went on like it was settled. “If the pages are useable, we’ll pay you a sub-standard wage.”
“Is that even legal?” Dylan asked.
Stella shook her head. “Paying an American tourist anything is so far from legal, I don’t think it matters. Besides, I want to give Dan a fightin’ chance. Be a shame to undo all his hard work.”
Dan, fighting? He was Mr. Contained. Stella obviously hadn’t gotten a good look at him, and siccing his mother on her didn’t count.
Stella placed a hundred dollar bill on the catalog pages. Looking up at her was yet another man Mara didn’t know. This one lacked the kind eyes of the fifty dollar man and wore a mustache like the grill of a train engine, but he was worth a hundred dollars.
She picked up the pages and the money. “I’m gonna start
She felt a towel in her hand and dabbed at her eyes, the scent of almond calming her down. She sighed, turned to hand the towel back, and he took it with the same smile he’d worn when he’d wished her a happy Independence Day.
“You’ve met John.” Stella waved Mara’s attention back to the catalog pages.
“I, uh…” She felt her face flush.
Stella laughed. “Yep, that’s my boy.”
Before Mara could process that, she realized Celia was patting her arm in concern. She gave Celia the best smile she could manage. “I’m okay.”
“I didn’t mean anything…” Dylan shifted uncomfortably, “about you coming to Vancouver. I didn’t mean to make you, you know, cry.”
“It’s not you, Dylan. I have to… It’s just that…” God, she didn’t want to say it. The stranger, John, the good smelling son of Stella, watched her. She could feel it. None of them needed to hear the mess that was her current life. A bad credit card, honestly, it was so low budget.
Dylan still looked stressed. “I just meant that—”
“It’s okay, really. I… I just have to go back, and I really wanted… I just really wanted to spend longer here.”
“Then do it.” John assured her with the confidence of a man without a cancelled credit card or probably kids or a husband. Wait, that was wrong.
Stella stepped in. “Is everything okay with your son?”
Mara put her hand on Stella’s arm. God bless a mom who could mom a mom. She felt tears again, sniffed them away. “Logan’s fine. It’s just. It’s nothing.” But Stella watched her with that no bullshit look she was coming to need, and she blurted it out. “Dan cancelled my credit card.”
Stella snorted with amusement. “I’ll be damned. He didn’t look that gutsy.”
Mara cleared her throat to stop another wave of tears. He’d had a couple of surprisingly gutsy moments, enough that he was forcing her to leave. Of course, his job was easy because… “I’m a sheep.”
“You’re great,” Celia defended her against herself. “You’re cool.”
No one in the history of the Earth had ever spoken those words to her before. She took one last sniff. Celia’s delusions deserved some basis in reality. She, at least, wouldn’t cry anymore. “Thank you, Celia.”
“Listen,” Stella lifted up the pages they’d created for the new catalog. “These suck.” She pointed to a lightning bubble. “They Holy Shit, Batman suck.” Stella looked at John, and he nodded. “Tell you what. I’ll let you stay in the loft and give you money for food if you take a crack at the catalog.”
Everyone turned to her with such confidence she stopped breathing. It was absurd. “I can’t make a catalog. I’m a middle school teacher trainer.”
John smiled. “You’re a woman.”
It sounded significant when he said it, empowering, and kinda dirty. Kinda dirty? She wasn’t a middle school teacher trainer, she’d become a middle-schooler. But Stella went on like it was settled. “If the pages are useable, we’ll pay you a sub-standard wage.”
“Is that even legal?” Dylan asked.
Stella shook her head. “Paying an American tourist anything is so far from legal, I don’t think it matters. Besides, I want to give Dan a fightin’ chance. Be a shame to undo all his hard work.”
Dan, fighting? He was Mr. Contained. Stella obviously hadn’t gotten a good look at him, and siccing his mother on her didn’t count.
Stella placed a hundred dollar bill on the catalog pages. Looking up at her was yet another man Mara didn’t know. This one lacked the kind eyes of the fifty dollar man and wore a mustache like the grill of a train engine, but he was worth a hundred dollars.
She picked up the pages and the money. “I’m gonna start
Similar Books
