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Lucy follows my gaze. “I can’t leave you dealing with this by yourself.”
“You have to.” I laugh. “You’re about to be late for the most important practice of your life.”
The bell rattles again before Lucy can answer or try to talk me into some other half-cocked idea.
“Eva?” The familiar voice of Juliette calls from the front of the store. “Are you hiding from customers?”
“Only the demanding ones.”
She appears a moment later with her young son, Theo, beside her, carrying one of the canvas totes from her store, Leaf & Letter. Juliette’s plant-and-stationery shop is a few doors down, and we’ve been planning a small collaboration between our front windows—some of my books and records among her plants, with a few of her trailing vines and autumn stationery coming here in return.
Juliette looks between Lucy and me. “What did we interrupt?”
“A celebration. Lucy has been called up to the Premier League.”
Juliette’s whole face lights up. “Lucy, that’s amazing.”
“Thank you.” Lucy looks toward the assembly line again, and the guilt returns. “It would feel more amazing if I weren’t abandoning Eva twelve hours after volunteering to help her.”
Juliette follows her gaze. “Ahhh. Suckered into helping and now bailing, huh?”
“Pretty much,” I joke. “But I’m also pushing her out and insisting she bail, because Premier League.”
“Oh, I get it.” Juliette’s gaze drifts toward Theo. Her eight-week promotional partnership with Dominion winger Sawyer Stockton was only supposed to bring some attention to Leaf & Letter. Instead, Sawyer became an important part of both her and Theo’s lives. Theo has fallen even harder for hockey since, and from what Juliette tells me, Sawyer loves coaching him just as much.
“I would stay, but I need to get these into the window before I close.” She rests a hand on Theo’s shoulder. “And this guy has homework waiting and a test tomorrow.”
“I have to read a chapter of history,” Theo says darkly.
“But,” Juliette says patiently, “what happens if you do it before Sawyer picks you up?”
The dark expression disappears. “We’re going to the movies.”
“What about Charlie?” I ask Juliette. Charlie is her employee and one of the kindest folks I’ve met working on the street. “Would he want to earn some champagne and whatever dinner I panic-order?”
“I can ask him.” Juliette takes out her phone. “He might be able to come by after we close.”
Lucy points at me. “See? We’re finding people.”
“We have possibly found one person.”
“That’s how finding people begins.”
Juliette sends the message, then we choose two records and a pair of books for her display. Theo offers several strong opinions, most of which appear to be based entirely on which covers contain the most dramatic artwork.
There’s a ding as her phone chimes in her hand. She reads the message, and her mouth pulls to one side. “Never mind. Charlie’s got plans with his husband, and he won’t be able to make it back tonight.”
“Okay.” It’s one word, said with the utmost of calm. Too calm. I sigh.
Juliette looks at the boxes again. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop. All of you.” I wave a hand in the air. “It’s fine. Go finish your window. And make sure this poor child survives his homework.”
I watch as Juliette and Theo head out, turning to Lucy whose expression still reads “guilty as charged.”
“Go.” I point to the door.
“I hate this.” She shakes her head. “I’m letting you down.”
