Page 10 of Lease to Love

“Besides…” I said, letting a smile spread across my face—one that, for once, didn’t have to be forced. “Somebody should be less worried about my money problems and more worried about enjoying her retirement.”

“You ain’t lying.” Mama’s grin widened, deepening the little lines around her eyes. “I gave entirely too many years of my life to Georgetown, and I’m gonna enjoy every second of being away from that place. Starting with two months of sunshine and wine with my twin sister.”

Warmth settled somewhere beneath my ribs.

Mama had been doing everything alone since before I was born — my dad had died six months into her pregnancy, which was the kind of thing that either broke a woman or made her into someone you didn't want to be on the wrong side of.

She became the second thing.

After spending more years working twelve-hour shifts and pulling double shifts as a nurse than I’d been alive, Mama had earned every damn second of rest and relaxation coming her way. She’d spent most of her life taking care of everybody else.

It was about time somebody took care of her.

And the fact that she was kicking off her retirement with Aunt Sage made it even better.

Being twins, those two had practically done everything together. Same college. Same social circles. Eventually, they even married men they met there. They got pregnant around the same time and spent the first forty-five years of their lives living no more than fifteen minutes apart.

They were two halves of the same damn person until Aunt Sage packed up and moved to Tampa eight years ago.

Not that I could blame her.

Not after Autumn.

The thought came so quietly I almost missed it.

Almost.

I didn’t want to think about her.

Not now.

Especially not when Mama was finally happy.

Just then Baby Blue and Lavender caught my eye. They were both waving me toward the counter, their expressions making it very clear that they were ready to check out.

I didn’t need to be asked twice.

I practically sprinted across the boutique, grateful for the excuse to bury myself in work.

The two women bought the cardigan and two scarves. I wrapped them in tissue paper, slid the bundles into a matte black bag with HOUSE OF AUTUMN printed in copper foil across the front, and sent them back out into the August heat with a warm smile and a genuine thank-you.

Every sale counted.

Every sale was one more brick in the wall.

When the door closed behind them, Mama stood.

"I'm going to leave you with one last thing, and then I'm going to go to your aunt's, sip Arnold Palmers on her porch, and mind my business for a week."

I scoffed, “You? Mind your business?”

“You are my business. Now listen.” Mama ignored me.

"As far as Iowa—Ayo, whatever that damn boy's name is... You're not heartbroken. You're embarrassed. And embarrassment is a liar. It tells you everybody's looking. But nobody's looking. Nobody cares about that man except you and that heifer he's laid up with, and she'll learn."

Mama straightened her dress, the cobalt fabric settling around her like armor.

"You built this place with your own two hands. You're Summer Proctor. You don't need a man to dress. Don't ever let a man have you auditioning for a role you already got."