by Erin Duffy
Purple stroller lady was there, but I didn’t even look in her direction, because I was over the fact that she didn’t want to be my friend, or even tell me her name. Becky and Stephanie showed up, just like I hoped they would, but Stella apparently decided to skip this week. It didn’t matter. Showing two of them that I didn’t care what they thought of me was just as good as showing all of them. I hadn’t seen the playground mommies with the thermoses since that day at the park. I hoped they didn’t go to rehab, but I didn’t wish to be friends with them anymore either, because I had a nice little life brewing here, and hanging out with the day-drinking girls no longer seemed so appealing, though I reserved the right to change my mind on that. I took a seat on the floor, right in the middle of the room, and pulled Bo on my lap. They slid into chairs in the last row, like it was a high school math class and the cool kids needed to sit in the back of the room, and talked loudly as if no one else was there. I finally saw them for what they were, and I almost felt bad for them, because twenty years ago they had Mommy’s looks, and Daddy’s car, and everyone’s attention, and they weren’t ready to let it go. I felt bad for them because now they were middle-aged, and Mommy’s looks weren’t quite what they used to be, and the car was a minivan, and they still got people’s attention, but not for the same reasons. I might have been closer to forty than twenty, but if there was one thing I could embrace about aging, it was that I didn’t give a shit about girls like that anymore. I couldn’t believe I ever did.
They didn’t notice me, probably because it never occurred to them that I’d go back after they told me I shouldn’t, and their conversation stopped me in my tracks.
“Do you believe he broke up with her?” Becky asked. Her little boy was wearing an argyle sweater vest and knee socks, and he crawled up to Lissy and tried to grab the puppet off her hand. I kept my eyes glued on Bo, but my ears were very much tuned in to their conversation. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. They broke up? Actually, it was even better than that. Becky didn’t say that they’d broken up. She’d said that he broke up with her.
Was this really happening?
“I never liked him. I’m sorry, I don’t care what anyone says, he was never a good guy. Never,” Stephanie added, which was hysterical, because if I wasn’t mistaken, just a few short months ago, she was the one claiming to know that Owen and Dee Dee were always meant to be together.
“She was about to start shopping for wedding dresses. I mean, who leaves his wife for someone he doesn’t want to marry? Is he deranged? Was this all just fun and games for him?”
Nothing fun about it, I thought. Maybe that was Dee Dee’s problem this whole time—maybe she never understood the seriousness of the situation. Maybe she just saw it as some great, romantic love story she could brag about to her friends, and never bothered to look at it for what it really was: a very bad ending to a very good marriage; a very difficult beginning to a very complicated living situation; and a very different life for a very little boy. She didn’t care about any of it, because she was too worried thinking about herself. I was very happy to discover that karma had very badly kicked her in her selfish ass.
Bo got up and wobbled up to the front of the room, and stood at Lissy’s feet. She smiled as she pulled him up onto her lap, and he gave her an enormous toothy grin. My little boy was walking now. Pretty soon he’d need a haircut. When did that happen? When did he morph from a chubby baby into a little boy? Lissy rang her bell indicating that class was over, and people filed out, heading to the park, or the grocery store, or home for morning naps, but I hung back and waited for Lissy to pack her bag.
“He’ll never do better than her,” Becky said, as they lingered in the back of the room so they could finish their gossip session. And it was just too good of an opportunity to pass up.
“Excuse me,” I said. “About that. Yes, he will. In fact, he already has.”
“THEY BROKE UP! Do you believe this?” I asked Lissy the second I came barreling through the door, almost ripping the bell off its string. I’d dropped Bo at home with Antonia and returned to S.W.A.K. for a few hours to help with the finishing touches at the store. I felt like I was flying. It may have been immature to take pleasure in the misfortune of others, but I was taking an absurd amount of pleasure from this unfortunate turn of events. In fact, I couldn’t remember a time when anything had pleased me more. Whatever. I wasn’t even going to pretend to feel bad about it. I wasn’t planning on applying for sainthood anyway.
“Of course I believe it,” Lissy said. She finished placing a few stacks of cards on the top shelf of the display case, and climbed down the ladder. “You didn’t think they were going to get married, did you?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know what I thought. I guess I figured if he was going to leave me for her then they’d at least be together for a while, but it hasn’t even been a year! Wait a second, is that supposed to make me feel better or worse?”
“It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she’s gone. She’s gone because he told her to scram, and you just totally stuck it to her friends. You’re having one hell of an afternoon.”
“I know!” I said. I paused for a second and looked around the room. “This place is stunning,” I gushed, so overwhelmed with how beautiful it looked I temporarily forgot about everything else, including the awning that Fred was going to install while I was at the library.
I turned and raced out onto the sidewalk to examine the crisp white canopy covering the façade above the door. It was simple, it was elegant, it was clean, and it showed off the script lettering beautifully. Lissy and I had agreed that the words “Sealed with a” would be in black ink, and the word “Kiss” would be in red, and it looked so amazing I had to resist the urge to scale the wall and lie on top of it so that I could kiss it myself. There was no missing this place now. Everyone would know that Sealed with a Kiss was in business, and also that it was awesome. Mission accomplished.
“I’m having a hard time believing that it’s the same place. How did this even happen?”
I didn’t like to brag, and Lord knows, I hadn’t had much to brag about lately, but we’d done a really wonderful job making the tired store look bright and shiny and ready for a real grand opening. Fred had been right when he said that painting the floors in Easter Bunny was the way to go. We’d gotten it exactly right. The original glass counter and display cases and carousels kept the space looking open and airy, and, in my opinion, toned down the pink, white, and red color scheme enough so that you didn’t feel like you were buying your letterhead in a candy shop.
“We never got chairs. I looked everywhere but everything was either too big or too expensive. Do you think that’s going to hurt us if we don’t have them by the party?”
“I’m so happy you mentioned that. I have a surprise for you,” I said. I dragged Lissy out back by the parking lot, and there was Fred, just as he promised, delivering our gift.
The small wooden table and mismatched chairs I’d wanted to hack into matchsticks looked like they were custom-made for S.W.A.K., the table and chair seats painted white, and their legs painted Lissy’s signature red. The red, pink, and white polka-dot fabric we found was perfect, and thanks to a lot of time in front of HGTV and more than a few tutorials on YouTube, Antonia and I had been able to reupholster the chair cushions with little more than a staple gun, a glue gun, and some minor burns on our hands. I knew they’d look perfect tucked into the nook in the corner in between the register and the stairwell. “Do you like them?” I asked. I walked over and ran my hand over the tabletop. It was hard to believe it was the same furniture, or that it had ever been anywhere but here.
“They’re amazing! Where did you get these? I’ve been looking all over the place for seating and haven’t been able to find anything like it. This is exactly what I would’ve picked if I’d seen it!”
“I had the table and chairs, but Antonia and I refurbished them. Do you really like them?” I asked, so happy that Lissy seemed
to love our gift.
“Are you serious? You guys did this? For me?”
“Yes. We wanted to do something to surprise you. Antonia did two, and I did two. Mine are obviously better,” I joked.
“I love them. I really, really love them. I don’t know what to say,” Lissy admitted.
“I know the feeling.”
“I don’t mean to ruin the moment, but shall we bring these inside? I need to get going soon, and I don’t want to leave you guys to do all the heavy lifting by yourselves,” Fred said, ever the gentleman.
“You got it,” we said. We carried the table and chairs into the store, positioned them in the corner, and admired our work.
“I couldn’t possibly have imagined this looking any better than it does. It’s a dream come true,” Lissy said.
“On that note, I’ll take off. Claire, I’ll see you later.” Fred blew me a kiss as he reached for the door.
“Thanks so much for being my moving man. And my awning man. And just my man,” I said with a wink.
“And general contractor,” Lissy said. She walked over to Fred and gave him a firm kiss on the cheek, leaving her lip imprint on his skin.
“All in a day’s work. Except now I need to go home and do my actual job. Bye, ladies,” he said.
“I’m going to send you a hundred emojis to say thank you for this,” I called after him as he headed toward the parking lot. “Hearts and smiley faces and thumbs-up and dancing ladies and red lips and stars and that’s just off the top of my head!”
“Don’t even joke, Claire! That kind of nonsense is exactly why text messaging will be the demise of all basic communication skills. Don’t make me revoke your text privileges!”
I smiled. I’d been doing that a lot lately. “Okay,” I said as I picked up a rag from a pile on the floor. “One last scrub before I go?”
“Agreed!”
I buffed, and scrubbed, and polished until every surface was gleaming and every single fingerprint was erased from the glass. I inspected the displays, and was convinced we’d covered all the bases. There was something for everyone: note cards with ladybugs, sophisticated monograms, birth announcements with trains, rocking horses, and bumblebees for boys, and stripes, flowers, and kittens for girls. There were save-the-date cards with sketches of the New York City skyline, and classic cards trimmed in grosgrain ribbon that could be used for anything. The shining star of the case, Lissy’s beautiful calligraphied envelopes, were displayed on a large Mariposa silver tray I’d gotten as a wedding gift and never had a chance to use. It was perfect to showcase Lissy’s amazing talent, her handwriting, scrolls, and flourishes so perfect it was hard to believe it wasn’t manufactured by a letterpress. People were going to be knocked out of their leather moccasins when they saw those beautiful envelopes. I knew without a doubt that if nothing else, that calligraphy would get her a ton of business. And, if we were lucky, eventually some publicity on one of the big wedding websites. That was phase two of my plan for this place. First we needed to get through the grand opening. We had another full week to go, but we were ready.
It was just after 4:30. “I need to get going,” I said to Lissy, who was polishing the glass counter with Windex for the fiftieth time. “I’m going to post a picture before I get my car. Then I need to drop Bo off at Owen’s. I don’t know how I’m going to see him and not ask him what happened. It’s going to kill me.”
“Don’t ask him. Let him tell you himself. Otherwise, it’ll look like you still care.”
“Good point. Fine, I’ll keep my mouth shut. I’ll check in with you later.”
“Okay. This place really does look good, doesn’t it?” Lissy asked. My heart ached for her.
“Your mom would be so proud of this place. You’ve done her justice while making it your own. As a mom, I can tell you that you can’t ask anything else of your kids. You did a really terrific job.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I think she really would’ve liked it. I think she’d be proud of me. That’s probably a ridiculous thing for a grown woman to worry about, huh?”
“She already is, Lissy,” I said, knowing that it was true. “You’re kind, and honest, and thoughtful, and generous, and if those aren’t the things all mothers wish their children would be, then they’re not wishing for any of the right things.”
“Thanks,” she said, getting slightly choked up, which for Lissy was an epic display of emotion probably on par with my meltdown in the Italian restaurant. It was nice to see.
“Bo’s lucky to have you. I don’t know if anyone has ever told you that. You should know.”
I walked over to her and hugged her tightly. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Then I repeat, you really need to get out more,” she joked. “Now get out of here and don’t forget to wear red lipstick at the party on Saturday.”
“I have to wear the lipstick? That’s your thing. I’m more of a mauve girl.”
“Of course you have to wear the lipstick!” she squealed in horror like I had just asked her if I had to wear pants to her big opening. “It’s my brand. There’s a lip print on the awning. There’s a lip print on the business cards. I wear red lipstick, and when you’re here, you wear red lipstick, too. We’re a team, and you’re the one who told me we need a brand. That’s our brand.”
“Okay. I’ll go and buy a red lipstick before next Saturday, I promise. Can I be a pinky red? I feel like one of the Robert Palmer girls playing guitar in the ‘Simply Irresistible’ video when I wear red lipstick.”
“No. Bloodred. Vampire red.”
“Hollywood siren red.”
“Whatever you’re comfortable calling it. You know what I’m talking about. Don’t wuss out.”
“Okay. That’s the least I can do for you. Bye.”
I stepped out onto the sidewalk, the air noticeably crisper than it was even a week ago. It wouldn’t be long before people would be wearing quilted vests and soft cotton scarves around their necks, blankets would be draped over the legs of toddlers in strollers, and Pumpkin Spice Lattes would be the morning coffee of choice. Maybe Owen was right. Maybe there was something to the whole fall in New England thing after all. The leaves hadn’t started to change yet, summer just officially ended after all, but I had no doubt that when they did, the town would transform into something really special. I thought I’d actually enjoy it. It had been five months since things ended with Owen, and I was now finally at a place where I knew we’d be okay. I had Bo and Antonia and Lissy and Fred and that was all I needed for my life to be full. I wished I’d known things would turn out like this from the very beginning.
I turned my back to the road and stepped toward the curb, so that I could take a picture of the new awning. The crisp white stood out against the dark brick, and the red lettering was both attention grabbing and appropriate. I held up my iPhone and captured the entire façade with a few branches from the tree on the sidewalk leaning into the side of the frame. I examined it, and decided that it didn’t even need a filter. It was perfect just the way it was. I couldn’t wait to post this on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. I also wanted to scan it on flyers, and hand them out outside the organic grocery store and in the parking lot at the high school before the Labor Day parade on Monday. There was still so much to be done.
“That looks amazing,” a woman walking by said as she stopped and gazed at the new façade. “What a great name! Sealed with a Kiss! How smart is that? I love it!”
“Isn’t that just the best name for a stationery store?” I asked, loving the compliment so much I almost jumped up and down right there on the sidewalk.
“It really is totally adorable. Has this store always been here?”
“It has, but it’s recently gotten a full makeover inside and out. We’re having a grand reopening next weekend. You should come by. The holidays are going to be here before you know it, and she’s going to have some of her cards available for preordering at a discount,” I said, thrilled that
someone had already noticed the new storefront. I wanted to reach out and hug this little blond woman for validating everything we’d done, for proving that it hadn’t all just been a huge waste of time. “Here’s a business card. The store hours are on there, as is the email address. Lissy, the owner, does really beautiful calligraphy, too.”
“I had no idea. It’s hard to believe that it’s almost time to start dealing with holiday cards, but I’ll definitely come by. See you next weekend,” she said. She tucked the card into a pocket in her purse, and continued down the street. I took a deep breath, felt the cool air burn the air sacs in my lungs, and as I exhaled I decided that maybe Connecticut wasn’t so bad.
There, I said it.
I wasn’t going to beat myself up for the way I handled the last five months of my life, but I wasn’t going to tackle the rest of the year the same way. I controlled my mood, and I controlled my happiness, and I had a lot to be happy about, so I was going to focus on all of the things that were good in my life, instead of the things that weren’t. Fine, things didn’t turn out anywhere near the way I’d hoped they would, but that was okay. Maybe the way I wanted them to turn out wasn’t right for me anyway. Going forward, I was only going to worry about living in the now. I was going to be a positive example for my son, a good friend to the people who were good friends to me, and live my life with my new mantra: no regrets.
I uploaded the picture and began to scroll through my emojis looking for the bright red heart before I posted it to Instagram. As it turned out, I shouldn’t have been worried about the selfie-stick-wielding millennial plowing me over. The millennial, however, should’ve been really worried about the middle-aged idiot trying to cross the street while posting a picture of a stationery store to every social media outlet in the free world. I didn’t see her coming, and that was probably a good thing.
