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Her head shook back and forth. “No, absolutely not.” She stepped out of his reach and turned away from him. “Not going to happen.”
He grabbed her elbow and brought her to a halt. Her head continued to shake and he took her face in his hands to steady her.
“I can pay the first three months’ rent. By then you’ll be up and running, and you’ll be able to take over the bills.” He had no doubt with her talent, Olivia’s marketing smarts, and Milo’s endorsement to every person that came in and out of his car, Harper would be turning a profit in no time.
“Possibly. But I wouldn’t be able to pay you back for those three months for who knows how long. If ever.”
He knew she’d throw that excuse back at him, but he was prepared. “There’s no deadline; you pay me back whenever you have it. Want to give me a dollar a week? That’s fine. It’s not like I don’t know where you live.”
“A dollar a week?” she guffawed. “It’ll take me a hundred years to pay you back.”
“We’re both healthy, and I plan on making it to at least a hundred and two.”
Harper rolled her eyes. “I am not going to be in debt with you until we’re a hundred; that’s absurd.”
“What’s absurd is you being unbelievably stubborn right now and not just saying yes and taking the damn money.” Her mom was right; her stubbornness would hold her back.
“No, what’s absurd is you pushing this. I don’t even know if I’m ready to have my own storefront. That’s a lot of responsibility, and I already have so much going on. What if I fail? And I prove to everyone that no matter how hard I try I’ll always be the girl whose father didn’t want her and whose mom is the town drunk.”
He hated that she let those things define who she was. Didn’t she see that she was so much more than where she came from? He stepped to her, cupping her face in his hands. He ran his thumb across the apple of her cheek. “What if you don’t?”
Tears pressed firmly against her lids, and he could tell she was pissed that her emotions were getting the better of her, but he was happy. It meant that she was losing the internal battle to be strong in her stance. She was wearing down and debating his offer.
“All I’m asking is that you think about it. Can you do that for me?” He didn’t need her to put a nail in the coffin yet. He wanted her to think about it for a second, make a pro and cons list if she had to. Any thought beyond her instant reaction of no.
Harper inhaled and her lips parted. The sound of her phone halted her response.
Harper answered the phone, her stubborn expression crumbling in front of him. “Isla, I’m so sorry. What do you need?”
Milo’s heart sank as he watched the conversation unfold. Harper hung up, but she didn’t even need to say anything; he already knew.
Mrs. Garrick had passed.
Chapter 18
The rain gave way to partly cloudy skies as Milo and Harper made their way into the funeral home. Milo held the door for Harper and took a deep breath as he followed her into the corridor. A man in a suit stood with his arms in front of him, hands linked together. He nodded as they approached, and Milo guided Harper toward the guest book.
She picked up the pen and turned to him, a somber smile on her face. “Do you want me to write both our names?”
“Sure.” Though they weren’t a couple, they were still a unit who went to funerals together and had the same address.
She wrote quickly but beautifully before placing the pen down. “Should we go inside?”
He fidgeted with the collar of his shirt, knowing damn well if Mrs. Garrick were alive, she’d tell him to take the stupid dress shirt off. He held his hand out, and Harper slid hers into his without hesitation. There was a red paint smudge on the inside of her pointer, and he ran his thumb along the spot.
Harper’s chest rose and fell as she inhaled deeply. He knew she was trying to find the strength to go inside. He squeezed her hand and that seemed to give her the nudge she needed. She put one foot in front of the other when Isla flew out of the viewing room. Harper whirled around, and Olivia came running out after her.
Without a word, Milo let go of Harper’s hand, knowing she needed to go after Isla. It was just as well. Harper didn’t do well at funerals. The last one they went to together she ran out of the place and hyperventilated in the parking lot. Birdy was a nice woman, but she was ninety-three years old, and Harper wasn’t close with her at all.
Not that Milo did well at these things either. He was uncomfortable around people who showed emotion and in places like this there was an abundance of tears, running noses, and little gasps of air. He always wound up cracking a joke that would be funny under normal circumstances but completely inappropriate for a funeral.
He did best by keeping his mouth shut and avoiding conversation. With Harper at his side, they balanced each other. He held her hand, giving her strength, and she handled the conversations while he smiled, nodded, and only added a few words here and there.
Without her beside him, he felt uneasy. He yanked at the collar of his shirt, convinced the damn thing was trying to suffocate him. He gave up the battle, accepting defeat and attempting to deal with the lack of oxygen.
He made his way into the packed viewing room. Everyone from town was here, crammed into the small space. Mrs. Garrick was loved by everyone and as a staple to the town, this turnout was not unexpected. It was also very well deserved. The woman was a bright spot in many people’s lives.
Hushed conversations rose from the cluster of groups around the room, and Milo nodded his acknowledgement to several people, doing his best to avoid conversation.
