Pam sat across from her and let Lulu out of her tote.
“You’re looking smug,” Bea said by way of greeting. “What have you been up to?”
Pam laughed. “I’m shocked that it shows, but you’re right. I’m feeling very good about things. I might have found the right woman for Steven.”
“I can’t believe you’re even looking. My kids would kill me if I tried.”
“Not if you got it right. Besides, Steven needs me to meddle. He’s finally given up his flavor of the week, which is great, but he’s not getting serious about anyone either. It’s time.”
She knew part of the reason for Steven’s change in behavior had been the death of his father. John’s unexpected passing had affected them all. Pam had been stuck in a kind of grief that had threatened to overwhelm her, while Steven had taken over the family plumbing business years before he’d expected he would. At first the responsibility had weighed on him, but he’d quickly grown into the position and now was doing a great job as president of the company. Which meant it was time for him to find the right woman.
“I wouldn’t have gone looking for someone for him,” Pam said. “But if I happen to run into her, then that’s hardly my fault.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll remind you of that when you have a total disaster on your hands. Remind you and say ‘I told you so.’”
Pam laughed. “That’s not going to happen.”
Lulu finished exploring the room and trotted over to Bea, who scooped her up and held her close.
“How’s my best girl?” she asked in a soft voice. “I like the buttons on your sweater. It takes a very fashion-forward girl to pull that off and, of course, you do.”
Lulu gave her a kiss, then relaxed in her embrace. Pam supposed there were people who would say her dog was spoiled, and while that might be true, Lulu was a faithful companion who had been by her side every second after John’s death. The little girl had missed her dad as much as everyone else in the family.
Pam shook off the memories and reached into her tote. This time she pulled out a file. “Tell me about Filia,” she said, opening the folder.
“We helped her five years ago, to get her nail salon up and running, and now she’s thriving. I think you’re going to like working with her.”
Pam was sure her friend was right. Bea had always done a good job of matching clients with coordinators. Moving Women Forward had a simple mission statement—they were there to help female entrepreneurs. That was it. A simple, clear vision. If a woman wanted to start a business, MWF was there to offer advice on everything from what to expect start-up costs to be to how to get a business license. If a woman already had a business up and running, MWF would provide mentoring, assistance with figuring out how to do payroll, manage employees and inventory. There were even cash grants and loans available. The services themselves were provided free of charge, but the client had to be accepted first, and that wasn’t easy.
Over the past couple of years Pam had learned that a lot of people said they wanted to open a business, but not very many of them were willing to put in the hard work required to make it happen. MWF insisted that clients take the first steps on their own—to show they were serious.
“I have a few ideas,” Pam said. “Her plans are ambitious. Let’s see if she can put them into action.”
Pam worked for MWF as a volunteer mentor. She took on a handful of clients every year. She was their point person. If she couldn’t answer a question, she would find someone who could. If the client was applying for a grant through MWF, Pam helped with the paperwork, then was her advocate through the process.
Filia hoped to expand her nail salon into a day spa. According to her paperwork, the space next door to her salon would be available in a few months. The location was good and she was already at capacity with her nail salon. It seemed to be the next logical step.
“I’ll let you know how it goes,” Pam said. She stood and looked at her dog. “You want to stay with Bea?”
Lulu wagged her tail and gave a little woof of agreement.
“Then I’ll be back in about half an hour.”
“If she gets restless, I’ll take her for a walk,” Bea promised.
“Thanks.”
Pam walked down the short hallway to one of the small meeting rooms. Filia, a petite, dark-haired woman in her late thirties, was already there. She stood when Pam entered and offered a nervous smile.
Pam introduced herself and they shook hands. They both sat at a small, round table in the center of the room.
Pam left the file closed. There was no need to get into the weeds just yet. Better that she and Filia get to know each other.
“Bea tells me you want to expand your business. Tell me about that.”
Filia’s brown eyes brightened. “I started my nail business five years ago with two girls. Now I have fifteen. We’re open seven days a week. Walk-ins and regulars. A year ago, I started offering chair massages for clients, either before or after their nail appointments. Six months ago, I began selling a skin care line. It’s doing well.”
Filia leaned forward. “My younger sister moved in with my family two years ago. She went to school to be an aesthetician. She’s worked for a big spa for several months now. She would come work for me and maybe a couple of her friends. I know how I want the space next door to be. I have some of the money, but not enough. I need to get a loan.”
Pam nodded. None of this was new information. She also knew that Filia was married and that her husband worked as a gardener. They had a ten-year-old daughter. Both of them had a high school education, but they planned to send their daughter to college. It was the American dream in living color.
“The first thing the bank is going to ask for is a business plan,” Pam told her. “Do you know what that is?”
Filia nodded slowly. “I created one the first time I came here. I can put together an updated one for the new business.”
Pam opened the folder and pulled out several sheets of paper. “Wonderful. The bank will want to know that you can cover your bills, including payroll, and pay back the loan. Once you have the basics taken care of, they’ll look at whether or not they consider you a good risk.”
There was also the possibility of a low-interest loan from MWF, but Pam wasn’t going to mention that just yet. First she wanted to see if Filia was committed to do the work necessary to even apply for a bank loan. Not everyone was. But she had a feeling that the woman in front of her was going to be someone willing to do the work to get herself where she wanted to be.
Filia took the paperwork and looked it over. She smiled. “This is much more clear than the books from the library. Thank you.”
“I’m glad.” Pam handed over a business card. “This is my contact information. Why don’t you take a week or so to get the first draft of the plan together? Once you have that, we’ll meet again and I’ll go over it with you.”
She would take as much time as necessary to get it bank-ready. Once Filia showed she was willing to do what had to be done, Pam would be with her all the way.
“Thank you for your help.” Filia clutched the paperwork tightly. “I’m going to make this happen. You’ll see.”
“I’m excited to work with you.”
“I feel the same way.” Filia smiled. “When my day spa opens, you can have the first facial.”
Pam laughed. “I can’t wait.”
Chapter Four
“Do you think he’s warm enough?” Jen asked her mother as she pushed the stroller along the boardwalk. It was sixty-eight degrees, which wasn’t cold, but they were at the beach and there was a cool breeze off the ocean. She had on a light hoodie, but her mom was only in three-quarter sleeves.
“He’s fine.”
“I don’t know.”
Jen hesitated, then decided they
were close enough to the carousel that she could wait to check on Jack. It wasn’t as if he was crying or anything.
There weren’t a lot of people hanging out at the Pacific Ocean Park, otherwise known as the POP. A few mothers out with their young children. A handful of businesspeople taking a late lunch. Most everyone else was busy with their lives. Midday walks at the beach were a luxury—one she should be grateful for.
Jen had read an article that said a spirit of gratitude could help with anxiety. At this point she was ready to try nearly anything. She was exhausted from checking on Jack a dozen times a night. Not that he woke up—she was the one springing out of bed to make sure the reason there was no noise from the baby monitor wasn’t that he’d stopped breathing.
She was tired of the vague feeling of impending disaster—a sensation that frequently blossomed into a full-blown panic attack. She hated the sense of being unable to catch her breath or knowing she was spiraling out of control and that in a very short period of time, she was going to lose it completely. So if gratitude would help, she was all-in.
Lulu trotted along at Pam’s side. The little dog had on a T-shirt that proclaimed her Queen of Everything. In Lulu’s case, that was probably true.
“You gave her a bath this week, right?” Jen asked, knowing Jack would want to play with the dog after he rode the carousel.
“I did because she gets a bath every week. You need to stop asking me that.” Pam’s tone was annoyed.
“I’m just checking.”
“Monitoring. You’re monitoring.” Her mother shook her head. “I can’t wait for you to have another baby.”
A second child? Jen felt her chest tighten. “Why would you say that?” How on earth could she manage? She was barely hanging on with Jack. There weren’t enough hours in the day. She couldn’t do it, couldn’t worry twice as much. She would explode—or maybe just shrivel up like an old, dead bug.
“You wouldn’t have time to ask if I’d bathed Lulu.” Her mother offered a sympathetic smile. “You need to get out of your head more, Jen. Everything’s fine. You’re suffering for nothing.”
“That’s harsh.”
“I don’t mean it to be. I wish you could believe me.”
About Jack, Jen thought resentfully. That was what her mother meant. Pam wished Jen would stop worrying about her son not talking. Like that was going to happen. There was something wrong with Jack and everyone’s lack of belief didn’t change the truth.
“You worried, too,” she said, knowing she sounded resentful. “All the time. Dad was forever calling you on it.”
Her mother smiled. “I did worry, but you take things too far.”
“I don’t.”
“If you say so. On another topic, I saw Zoe a couple of days ago.”
The unexpected statement had Jen blinking at her mother. “My friend Zoe?”
“That’s the one. She came to a class at Mischief in Motion, and then we had lunch. She’s so sweet. I can’t believe she locked herself in the attic. That had to be terrifying.”
“What are you talking about?” Jen asked.
“Zoe accidently got stuck in her attic. The door’s sticky and slammed shut. I would have freaked out, that’s for sure. She didn’t tell you?”
“Um, no, she didn’t mention it.”
Jen wanted to ask when this had happened and why she didn’t know about it. Except she knew the answer to the second question. She didn’t know because she and Zoe weren’t talking very much anymore. Certainly not on the phone. They rarely went out together. Zoe still dropped by most Thursdays, but her last visit hadn’t gone very well.
Guilt pressed down on her. Yet one more thing she was supposed to fix. Just not today, she told herself.
“So, Mom, where are you and your girlfriends going next?” she asked brightly, hoping for a change of topic.
“We’re doing a long weekend in Phoenix in a few weeks, then my cruise in June.”
“Where’s the cruise?”
Pam sighed softly, making Jen wonder how many times she’d already asked that same question. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested, she told herself. She was busy. She couldn’t be expected to remember every detail of her mother’s life.
“Northern Europe,” Pam told her. “We start in Copenhagen and spend two days in St. Petersburg. There’s a day trip to Moscow.”
“That will be interesting.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Jen glanced down at Lulu and felt another stab of guilt. No doubt she should offer to take the dog while her mother was gone. Lulu was comfortable in the house and relatively well behaved. Only it was one more thing that Jen didn’t have time for. Plus the dog would go to the bathroom out in the yard and then Jen would have to clean it up. There were germs to consider and it was all so exhausting.
They reached the carousel. Pam put Lulu in her large tote while Jen got Jack out of his stroller. Her son clapped when he saw the wooden horses circling round and round. He pointed.
“The blue one,” she said. “I remember.” The blue horse was her son’s favorite.
They purchased tickets and waited for the carousel to stop. Once they reached the blue horse, Jen set Jack on the painted saddle and carefully strapped him into place. She stood on one side while Pam took the other. A minute or so later, the carousel began moving. Jack laughed and waved his arms.
“How is Kirk?” her mother asked.
“Good. Okay. I wish he hadn’t joined the LAPD, but it’s done now.”
“What about his partner? Is he improving with time?”
“I wish.” Jen grimaced. “Lucas is a character, and not in a good way. He’s got to be fifty and his latest girlfriend is twenty-two. Whatever do they talk about?”
Pam raised her eyebrows. “I doubt they’re talking.”
“Oh, Mom.”
“Don’t ‘Oh, Mom’ me. I’m not kidding. Lucas and Kirk have stressful jobs. People deal with stress in different ways. That’s his. Or are you concerned about something else?”
“He’s a cowboy. I worry he’s going to get Kirk into a bad situation. Or a dangerous one.”
“I thought he was a good detective.”
“He is. He’s well respected. Kirk was really happy when they were assigned together. I just think he’s a bad influence. All those women. Kirk’s married.”
“You think Lucas will try to influence Kirk into—” She glanced at Jack. “You think he’s pushing Kirk to have an a-f-f-a-i-r?” She spelled the last word.
“I don’t know. I hope not.”
“Kirk wouldn’t do that.”
“Not every guy is as great as Dad.”
“Is Kirk giving you reason to think he would do that?”
Jen wished she hadn’t started down this path. “Not exactly. It’s just, he’s busy and I’m busy. We have Jack. Things are different now.”
Her mother turned to face her. “Jen, are you and Kirk having regular sex?”
“Mom!” Jen glanced around, but they were pretty much by themselves on their side of the carousel. “We can’t talk about that here.”
“Why not? This is important. You can’t let life and work and the baby come between you and your husband. Women show love through words and actions. Men are different. For a lot of them, sex is an expression of love. In a marriage, sex is bigger than a man having needs. Of course he does, but without lovemaking, there’s often no way for him to demonstrate how he cares. You both need a strong, vigorous sex life.”
“Stop, I beg you. I don’t want to have this conversation with my mother.”
“You’d better be having it with someone.” Pam looked at her. “This is serious.”
“I know.”
“Your father and I always had a great sex life.”
Jen squeezed her eyes shut. “Stop. You have to stop. No one wants to know this. I can’t handle thinking about my parents’ sex life.”
“Fine, but just know this. Sex is an important part of any successful marriage. Don’t forget that. Kirk sure hasn’t.”
“Fine. You’re right. I get it. Can we please talk about something else?”
Her mother hesitated, then nodded. “I have a new client at MWF. I like her a lot.”
“That’s nice. What kind of business does she have?”
Pam talked about a nail salon, but Jen was only half listening. Part of her was still weirded out, thinking about her parents doing it. But the rest of her was more concerned about what her mother had said about men and sex. She and Kirk weren’t doing it much at all. Between his job and Jack and her being tired all the time, they’d fallen out of the habit. To be honest, she didn’t even miss it. But what about Kirk? What did he think?
Damn Lucas, she thought. Damn him and all those young women. She knew he was giving her husband ideas. She just knew it. If she didn’t want to lose her husband to some young bimbo, she was going to have to do something. The question was what.
* * *
Four o’clock on Wednesday afternoon, Zoe sat in the shade of her patio and stared at her backyard. She’d always imagined the space with raised plant beds—the kind that would allow her to grow fruits and vegetables. But she had no idea where to place them or how to install them. She supposed she could ask some gardener person, but it seemed like the kind of project she should do herself.
Her phone rang. She glanced at the number and didn’t recognize it.
“Hello?”
“Zoe? It’s Steven Eiland, Jen’s brother.”
The information took a second to fall into place. Steven was also Pam’s son. Zoe had met him several times, including Jen’s wedding, where Zoe had been the maid of honor and Steven had been the best man.
“Oh, hi,” she said. “What’s up?”
“I was talking to my mom and she mentioned you’d bought a house. Congratulations on that.”
“Thank you.” Why on earth would Pam be talking to Steven about her and her house? Before she could ask, he answered the question.
A Million Little Things--A Novel Page 5
