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At that, her head falls back and she giggles, the sound one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard.
“You’re notthatold.”
I shrug, take another sip from the bottle, and pass it back her way.
It’s hard to rein in my smile for the rest of the night.
chapter fifteen
Busy
I scroll through the photos on my phone, marking a few as favorites that I want to get printed so I can put them up around the house. I’ve been considering pulling my camera out of the closet, where it has been collecting dust since the day we moved in, so I can start capturing things that inspire me. There’s something inside me brewing, though I don’t know what it is, and I think it might be time tojump into the water.
It’s kind of scary, though, considering what that might look like. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would roll their eyes and tell me to get over it. Just grab your camera and start snapping. What’s the worst that could happen?
But there are many worsts, in my mind.
What if my inspiration has been sapped, and I realize I can never create again?
What if I get distracted from Junie and something bad happens?
What if the skills I’ve been honing for years have somehow disappeared?
What if I waste money on getting something printed and then I’m in a tight spot financially and the photo sucks anyway?
What if…
What if…
What if…
When I think about it too hard, for too long, it just feels really crippling. Debilitating. Like I’m frozen in indecision because of how many things could go wrong.
But then I remember the way Reid looked at me when he gave Junie her rocking horse, his thoughtfulness in leaving it unvarnished so I could add somepersonality, as he called it. Maybe I start there? Buy some wood paint and…but then I’d have to spend money. Maybe I take my camera out on a lunch break one day and see what happens?
I groan, my mind walking in a circle—the same circle I’ve been going over—for what feels like the millionth time. The bell on the door jingles and I almost sigh in relief, thankful to get a distraction from my own inability to make a decision.
And then I smile wider when I see who walked through the door.
“Hi, girl,” Marie says, walking right over to the counter.
“Hey!”
I step out from behind the register and give her a hug, surprised at how easy and natural it feels.
“Good to see you.”
“You, too,” she replies. “I’ve been meaning to come by for a while and I’ve just been so swamped with summer activities it keeps slipping my mind.”
I wave a hand. “No worries. Kids are distracting.”
“Don’t I know it.” Marie laughs, then her eyes track around the store briefly before returning to me. “Hey, I know things have been on the chaotic side since the store opened, but I was hoping you knew the Friday morning invitation is perpetual. We do Mom-osas every week, and I’d love for you to come again sometime if you can.”
I don’t mean to make a face, but Marie must see something in my expression that gives me away. “Unless you don’t want to,” she adds.
“No, it’s not that I don’t want to,” I tell her, truthfully. “I just…sometimes get people-d out.”
Her expression softens. “I get that. Maybe we could do something just the two of us, then, with the kids? Or without them. I hope this doesn’t come across as aggressive, but…I just really like you, and I want us to be friends.”
