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“Good morning!” I call out, a bell ringing as I shove the front door open, my eyes scanning the nearly empty shop.
There are cans of paint stacked in the corner along with a few folded-up tarps lying in a heap and other supplies sitting on a pop-up table, but not much else. It’s the first time I’m seeing what will eventually be Happily Ever After, the bookstore that will open next month on Main Street. There used to be a boutique clothing store here, but it closed years ago and the space has sat empty for that entire time, so it’s great that a new business is going to open downtown. Especially because this bookstore is the life’s dream of one of my favorite people.
Briar emerges from the back, a small smile on her face.
“Hi, Little Bee,” she says, using the childhood nickname that always makes me roll my eyes even though I love it.
Someone who doesn’t know my sister might assume she’s not actually that happy to see me based on how reserved she’s being. But Briar and I have grown very close recently, and I can see in the slight upturn of her mouth and the way she’s wringing her hands together just how excited she is.
Almostas excited as I am to see her.
I bounce across the room and fling myself at her, laughing at the way her eyes widen in shock and an awkward chuckle tumbles out of her mouth as I throw my arms around her shoulders. Briar embraces me as well, her rigid frame softening as she lets herself sink into my hug.
“I’ve missed you so much!” I tell her, pulling back, my hands on her biceps. “Junie will be so excited to see you.”
At the mention of her niece, a genuine smile stretches across Briar’s face. “I can’t wait to see her, though I’m sure she’s already forgotten who I am.”
I scoff. “Her Auntie Briar!? She could never.”
My sister shakes her head as if to dismiss what I’ve said. It’s not just lip service, though. JunielovesBriar. My kid has been a bit on the slower side when it comes to speaking, but she definitely knows the word ‘auntie’ and shrieks excitedly whenever my phone rings because she thinks it’s my sister.
We’re doing a family dinner at mom and dad’s this weekend, and I know everyone is excited to see both of us—butnobodyis as excited to see anyone as Junie is to see Briar.
“So, what do you think?” she asks, turning to look at the empty room, possibly trying to see it the way I do. “It feels a lot bigger than I remember it when I did the first tour a few months ago.”
The nerves are rolling off of her in waves, and I step up to her side and loop my arm in hers.
She looks at me, and I give her an encouraging smile. “It looks fantastic. I can’t wait to see what you’re envisioning.”
Briar takes a deep breath, almost like she’s bolstering herself, then nods.
“Alright, boss. Put me to work!” I clap my hands and rub them together. “What will you have me start with? Cleaning? Painting? I have my coveralls in the car just in case.”
“Andy and I did the cleaning over the past few days,” she replies, referring to her husband. “Today is absolutely going to be a painting day.”
“Yes!” I bounce on my feet and clap my hands together. “I know I ended up going the photography route, but youknowI love any chance to pick up a paint brush. Just tell me what to do!”
My sister chuckles and shakes her head then goes into detail about what she wants done with the paint cannisters in the corner: dark green on the ceiling and the top half of the east and west walls, sage green on the entire back wall. Eventually, the plan is to hang lots of plants and flowers and greenery to make it feel like a magical realm, but that will come after we’ve installed the bookshelves and hung some specialty plant holders around the room. I’m hoping she’ll let me get creative with the painting on the ceiling, but I’ll hold off and ask that on a day that isn’t my very first.
“I’m in the process of negotiating buying up the stock from a used bookstore that’s closing in Elk Grove, so I’ll just be in the office,” she says, hitching her thumb in the direction of the doorway she emerged through just a few minutes ago. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
I beam at her. “Got it. Good luck!”
Once Briar has disappeared into her office, I head back out to my car parked on the street and snag my coveralls. I don’t normally wear these when I paint, opting to just allow my clothing to get speckled and sprayed as a sign of my dedication to the arts. But during my victory lap—the extra year I spent finishing up my degree after I had Junie—I did some large-scale installation work as part of my senior thesis. I printed out these massive photographs then spent weeks adding paint and oil, and the process was really messy, so I opted for some more coverage. Plus, by that point, I was also doingtonsof laundry becauseapparently babies spit up and poop on everything, and I just didn’t have the time or money to do an extra load just because.
After I’ve set up the tarps across the base of the western wall and taped off a line about halfway up, I pop in some headphones and get started. As the sounds of one of my favorite rock bands echo through my ears, I open the cannisters, pour the paint into the trays, clean the rollers, and dip in.
I’ll give my sister this: she picked two gorgeous colors of green. I feel like they perfectly encapsulate her personality. One is muted, the other is very deep, and both are eye-catching. It doesn’t surprise me that she wants her bookstore to be filled with plants and flowers. Briar spent years working as a florist, and it’s so like her to figure out how to bring two things she loves together in a way I never would have pictured.
Like I do any time I’m working, I zone out as I roll the forest green color onto the walls, and before I know it, three hours have passed.
“Wow!”
I glance at Briar as she walks out from her office, her eyes scanning the work I’ve done so far.
“I considered going with a lighter color for the ceiling because I worried it would make the space too dark, but I really like how it looks.”
I nod. “Too many people just lean into millennial gray,” I tell her, tilting my head back and staring at the ceiling. “This has personality.”
