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Embraceable You (Irish Hearts Series)

Page 6

by Mary Tate Engels


  "What?" Siena shook her head. "You don't believe that!"

  "Oh yeah, so they say. Well, I’ve got to get back to work. Remember, I want those mermaids. They're way cool." She waved and glided down the hill.

  "Even cup huggies?" Siena called with a touch of defiance in her tone. "Can you sell cup huggies online?"

  Zoey turned her head and yelled, "Anything. Yep, even those damned stupid lace cup huggies." She waved again and headed straight toward city hall.

  Siena stared after her, thinking Baby Sis would probably be reporting her findings to Zach. Maybe Zoey was a plant to soften her up so Zach could spring the good news. He would save her financially by buying her out, destroying her old building and offering her a job in the Mayor's office. Sounded like hell.

  On the other hand, why should she care? It was a futile business in a quiet little seaside town with not much going for it except natural beauty. Not even much fish or lobsters any more. But – it would be her business. Hers to control. To risk. Siena started to feel some strange kind of responsibility for it, or maybe for the people who had depended on it and Aunt Addie.

  Zoey claimed she could sell anything online. Siena wasn’t sure about that.

  Before she could figure it all out, she heard the rippling, non-tune sounds of her cell phone and fumbled it out of her pocket. She didn’t even bother with hello. "Dana! Where in the world are you? I’ve been trying to reach you all week!"

  Dana’s voice was animated and excited. There was a loud crackle of background noise and laughter. "We’re in New York City, baby. Having a wonderful time. We've been so very busy… "

  "Busy doing what?"

  Oh everything-everything! Plays on Broadway. Remember that dark little movie from Ireland, "Once"? It's now a musical. We met the most amazing man there. Someone Chaz knew when he worked at the Harley store. But, more about that later. We've been to coffee shops with wonderful live jazz. Yesterday we went ice-skating at Rockefeller Plaza, and now we're back again today. It's been my dream since I was a little kid. Just watching the crowds is fascinating."

  Siena was impatient. "I'm sure it is. Why didn’t you call me sooner?"

  "I've been oh so very busy. Besides, I didn’t know I was supposed to report in. I think I’ve heard you say that."

  "Don’t be smart, Dana. You knew I’d be worried, you taking off like this."

  "Oh baby, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Chaz and I are fine together."

  "Okay. Fine." Siena felt the urge to bite something.

  "So how are things in frozen-solid Haven’s Point?"

  "Oh things are just fine here, too. If you like frozen-solid."

  "Good, I knew you’d love it."

  "Glad you’re having fun, Dana. Please. Report in. I just… need to know you're okay." Siena felt a hitch in her voice. Could she be getting emotional over her mother acting like a kid on holiday?

  "Oh, I will, baby. Never better! Honestly." Dana ended up using her ‘little girl dancing’ voice. "Chaz is such a great guy . . ." blah, blah, blah. "I may have some exciting news in a few days."

  "Good. Keep me posted. Just don't do anything drastic."

  "Nothing more drastic than riding a Harley cross-country. This is fun!" Dana's laughter lingered after they'd hung up.

  Siena signed. "Yes, this will be the new standard of drastic."

  She had heard all this before, more than once. Different name, same tune. But not from the back of a Harley as Dana whirled off around the country. She hadn’t even questioned the viability of Aunt Addie's business or the likelihood of a sell. Not one opinion about legality of the will or – anything. The Queen of Escape was at it again.

  Siena slogged back to the apartment for a cup of canned soup and hot tea. Later, still feeling befuddled and totally out of control, she poured herself a large, to-the-top goblet of wine and sipped until the world straightened out. Or she just didn't give a damn.

  The next day, she spent hours poring over the books and assessing her dire situation. In the end, Siena knew what she had to do. And the longer she delayed, the harder it would be. Life for her wasn’t about looking backward; it was about moving forward. Zach had his solution. And she had hers.

  Claire and New Blood

  Well, Lord help us, we got our new blood. She's in the form of Addie's great-niece, Siena Summerfield. Seems a flighty-sort, probably like her mother, Dana. Addie always agonized over Dana's mothering. She said the daughter was the mommy and the mom was the kid. Not sure I understand that logic. I was always the mother, whether my darling daughters liked it or not.

  I've seen young Siena here over the years, but never really knew her. She's a beautiful girl, but who knows what's in that head of hers. It's a puzzle if she has any bright ideas although she did drape some of our lovely lace on Venus and put her in the display window for all to see. She sure did remind us of Addie.

  When the Heart's Desire pillows came up, the poor girl looked at us as though we were loony. Thank heavens she didn't say as much, but I could read it in her eyes. She doesn't know much about Haven's Point, or the people here. About Zach being our local hero . . . and even her own aunt's influence. She didn't even know about Addie's lover, Luciano. Nothing about those beautiful mermaids he placed all over town before they got recognized by the big galleries around the world. But maybe all that doesn't matter because Siena couldn't possibly care about us. She's got her own life to worry about, and I see that now. I think of her mother, traipsing around the country on the back of a Harley, clinging to some young man. Tut-tut.

  Everyone knows that 'Berta's son, Zach Cassidy wants the town to buy Addie's property to build some god-awful shopping mall. Another lighthouse we don't need. We need fisheries and other places to work, not places to buy things. Why can't he see that? Addie continually fought the powers that be in this town. She always thought her business was worth something, worth keeping. But there were no takers. Siena may be the one to sell out, especially if they convince her it's for the good of Haven's Point. I suppose Addie would have been for that.

  I'm having my doubts, but the one person who really and truly believes in the power of this lace is 'Berta. She has to believe in miracles, with a disease like cancer. That's how she survives. No one has the heart to tell her that her kids came back to Haven's Point because of her illness, not the power of the lace. Maybe a little guilt was involved there. All of us would be more than glad to help her in any way, but Zoey has taken up the gauntlet, driving her mother to treatments, making sure she eats right, even when she doesn't feel like it.

  Zach is the one who got her that ridiculous Raquel Welsh wig. He thought he was doing a good thing, I'm sure. We were all busy making little crocheted lace caps for her when she started losing her hair. So what could we say about the wig? It was given in kindness and love and probably cost a pretty penny. 'Berta tells me the thing is itchy to her tender skin and around the house, she just wears one of our warm caps. But she doesn't want to risk offending either Zoey or Zach for fear they'll leave again. So she pretends she loves that damn wig.

  I saw George talking to Siena the other day. Wonder what kind of nonsense he's spouting. Probably telling her stuff from his strange books - that there are creatures rising from the sea, making us all sick, and we have to fight or become zombies. The man has a bizarre mind, and probably doesn't care one whit whether she stays or not. Or whether this town makes it or not. He once said, "I can live anywhere because I write." Well, la dee freekin' da! He didn't tell the whole truth and say, "Because I write weird, bizarre books."

  Takes all kinds, I guess. Addie liked the man, not in a sweet way, mind you. But she said he was very smart. Then why does he spend so much time on that computer of his, instead of trying to do something to help the people of Haven's Point?

  'No easy answers, only good questions,' my dear Danny used to say.

  So the big question is: does Siena intend to stay in this woebegone town or sell out, leave, and get on with her nice life somewhe
re else? I can't see where staying will help matters. We've lost our dear Addie. And no one can take her place, not even new blood.

  Chapter Five

  A few days later, Siena left the cats in George’s capable hands. He was none too happy, but said he understood. He made her promise she’d come back. She crossed her fingers and nodded. "Of course." Her first goal – see if there was a job for her in all of Boston. Something besides making muffins for her friend Goldie's coffee shop.

  Still, decisions had to be made. Work had to be done. No amount of tears over Aunt Addie or worrying about her mother or wondering about Zach's intentions would change all that.

  First decision - what did she want? A job in Boston? To stay here and try to make Amazing Lace profitable? Or to sell it and leave Haven’s Point right now and go back to . . . what? And what about Zach? Did she really want to give up on someone who left the thrill of his kiss lingering on her lips and the possibility of something more in her heart?

  Siena spent the next few days in her Boston apartment packing, visiting familiar haunts, seeing old friends, networking about jobs. And organizing. What now. What later. What belonged to Dana. This seemed to be the logical thing to do, at least temporarily. For sure, she couldn’t afford to keep this apartment until things were settled and sold in Haven’s Point.

  At the coffee shop on the first floor, she sipped steaming strong coffee and chatted with one of her favorite people. "Goldie, I’m going to miss you and your fabulous breakfasts."

  "You’ve been a good tenant and friend, Siena."

  "I hope you won’t have any trouble renting it." Siena took a bite of zucchini bread slathered with pineapple cream cheese and savored the blending of flavors. She would miss this, all of it. Her life in Boston.

  "No problem with renting Siena. I have a waiting list."

  Siena swallowed hard. "You mean someone’s already in line to take over my place?" It was hard to think that a perfect stranger was just around the corner from moving into her newly vacated Boston apartment. Realistically though, she knew she couldn’t keep it. Not now. Money was the big issue, and becoming scarcer every day. At least it cost her near nothing to stay in Haven’s Point.

  "Sure, it’s prime property. Near downtown. Clean, small, and the price is right." Goldie wiped the counter next to Siena. "Where are you moving?"

  "I, uh, have a little shop in Maine. Inherited it from my great aunt. Guess she thought I could whip it into shape." It sounded weird to say these things. The rough realities of life had come at her too fast and too hard. She swallowed a knot in her throat. She was losing Aunt Addie as well as her life in Boston. Dana had already taken off, so get over it.

  Goldie leaned over the old-fashioned counter and refilled Siena’s coffee. "What a nice gift she gave you. It’s the American dream, you know. Owning your own business."

  Siena stirred cream into her coffee and watched it blend. "I guess."

  "You don’t sound very enthusiastic. What kind of business is it?"

  Siena sighed heavily. "A nearly dead one. Stocked with a little bit of everything. Hand-made lace, lacy pillows and angels, romance books, hand-made quilts, a zillion trinkets in the shapes of light houses and lobstahs. . . and none of it sells very well. ‘Course there aren’t many buyers in winter. Come summer, things will improve. So they tell me." She couldn’t bring herself to mention the cup huggies.

  Goldie clasped her hands together. "Good! You have a challenge to make it all your own. Reinvent your shop into something people want. And something you love. You have time to get ready for your customers."

  Goldie’s Coffee Shoppe was obviously her pride and joy. Located on the ground floor of the Bay View apartments, Siena and Dana had lived above the shop for four years. Most mornings, Siena started her day here with coffee and a sliver of pastry just because she liked the atmosphere and the people. Goldie knew all about Warren, and Dana, about Siena’s broken heart, and having to quit her job.

  "I’ve got about all the challenges I need right now. I don’t need this one."

  "This is where you get control of your own life," Goldie insisted. "Other jobs – somebody else’s problems. You have no control. With your own place, you’re in charge."

  Siena made a funny face. "This place is full of hokey, touristy merchandise. That’s not my choice."

  "You're right. You’ve got to specialize in something and do it very well. And if you don’t love it, you’re going to bomb, no doubt about it. But if you love it, you’ll succeed, no matter what."

  "It's so hard to change, Goldie. I had a good job and salary. Maybe I jumped too soon."

  Goldie folded her arms. "Trust your instincts. Don't look back. Starting new is hard. But you’ve got to make it yours. Then you'll be happy."

  Siena shook her head in frustration. "This is more like starting old – everything there is old. Like antique-old. The town is old-world traditional, even the people."

  "Blend the two. Something old, something new." Goldie wagged her finger and Siena could see a glimpse of the sassy young woman she once was. "Make it work for you."

  "It just seems hopeless. The shop is way out of date. My aunt’s biggest product is hand-made, antique Irish lace. It’s beautiful, but not much wanted. And I have piles of it. Definitely not what you’d call a hot item. What sells in this economy when money is so tight?"

  "With all that lace, how about lingerie? A new shop went in just across the street, and it's drawing lot of attention, especially with the window displays."

  Siena swallowed her frustration in another sip of coffee and considered the possibility. Goldie's husband died a few years ago, leaving her a widow at fifty. She closed the shop for about six months and went to visit her sister in Chicago. She came back saying, fifty is the new forty and I can do anything. And she did.

  Goldie leaned over. "Say, did I tell you that when we got married, David’s family ran a butcher shop here?"

  "A meat shop? Here?" Siena looked at the happy yellow and blue walls, the friendly soda-fountain tables and chairs, the banks of cakes and other yummy pastries. The customers were eager and loyal. And the best part, Goldie always said, they left with a full belly and a smile. "It hasn’t always been a coffee shop? I didn’t know that."

  "Listen, I came from a family of bakers. David came from butchers. I didn’t care so much for the meat. When we got here these walls were green and white, like an old-fashioned hospital. My father-in-law gave me a little showcase there on the side, just to pacify the new bride, I’m sure. I baked my own breads and they sold pretty well. Pretty soon, my bread was selling out every day, especially at holidays. And I did special orders for weddings and such. I sold everything I could make. It's called a market niche, I think. Why, I was forced to hire an assistant to help me keep up with the demands."

  Siena took another bite of zucchini bread. "So they changed products when they saw how successful yours was?"

  "Oh no, dearie. We had many discussions. Sometimes they ranged to red-hot arguments."

  Siena laughed. "Okay, so it wasn’t easy."

  "I hung on. And when my husband’s parents retired to Florida, we inherited the whole building, rentals and all. I convinced David to make the change from meat to bakery products. We painted and decorated the place like a little French coffee shop that I saw in a magazine once. We never looked back. And you know the best thing, Siena? We were doing what we wanted to do, not what someone else set out for us."

  "You’re the best, Goldie."

  "The magic is in what gives you the most pleasure. Where’s your heart? There’s nothing as satisfying as running your own business. Unless it’s something to do with your kids."

  "You’ve been in business a long time, haven’t you, Goldie?"

  "My kids grew up here, helping after school. This place sent them to college. Who knows what they’ll decide to do. Probably not this business, but that’s okay. I want them to find their own passions. This is mine."

  Siena finished eating whil
e Goldie waited on another customer. Then she came back to finish their conversation. "The way you love to bake, you could always open your own bakery. But I'll be the first to say it's damn hard work, starting at four in the mourning."

  Siena shook her head. "I bake for fun. I have some other ideas for my business. Thanks, Goldie. For everything. Your advice is golden."

  "Just telling you what worked for me. You have to decide what’s best for you." Goldie pulled a small loaf of zucchini bread from the showcase. "From me. For good luck in your future. You will come back and see me, won’t you?"

  "Of course." They hugged and Siena went back upstairs to her apartment to wait for the movers. Everything was packed, even Dana’s meager stuff. The rooms echoed when she walked across the bare floors. She was leaving the best place she’d ever called home. Some were happy times. Others, not so much. Still she felt sad and lonely and frustrated.

  On the foot of Dana’s bed lay a red lace pillow, a gift from Aunt Addie. Siena grabbed it and held it close. Aunt Addie had called it their latest creation, a heart’s desire pillow. Sure enough, someone had embroidered Heart’s Desire on one side. "Make a wish," she had said, "and it’ll come true. There’s power in that lace."

  Yeah, right. Siena felt no luck. Or power. See how fast her life had gone downhill since her breakup with Warren? No job, no love, no home, no personal power. She walked to the kitchen and stuffed the damned Heart’s Desire Pillow in the trash.

  Just as the movers arrived, her cell phone rang. She hand-motioned them inside, muttered a quick, "Everything goes," and answered her phone. She should have checked the caller ID because the minute she heard Warren’s voice, Siena’s stomach knotted.

  "Siena, darling, how are you?"

  "I’m fine," she snapped. "Extremely fine. As if you give a damn."

  "I’ve missed you." He paused then said, "I hope you’ve missed me, too."

  "Not for one freekin' minute." The lie came easily, maybe too quickly to be believed.

  "Siena, I thought I saw you last night at Rusty’s Nail. Is that possible? Or am I just missing you so much that I’m imagining you back in my life?"

 

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