I straighten, crossing one tight-clad leg over the other and matching his professional tone. “Mr. Don?”
“You’re sure you’re ready for tonight? Hosting Halloween is a lot of pressure around here, and most first-year business owners wouldn’t be up for it. I know you were counting on your grandmother?—”
I cut him off with a wave of my hand. My heart aches at the mention of Grandma, and I already know where this is going. It’s only been a few months since she died. She was so excited when we found out Moonlit Pages would be sponsoring the festival this year, and we all thought she’d have one last chance to host her favorite event of the year, that she’d have one last Halloween with us. With her gone, though, the responsibility falls on my shoulders as the new official owner. I’ve more orless been running the store for a few years now, but it wasn’t until Grandma passed through the veil of spirits that ownership formally passed on to me. Since then, it’s been an endless stream of people asking me if I’m okay and if I’m ready to take on such a hefty responsibility. If I would like to pass off my hosting duties to someone who isn’t going through the grieving process.
No matter how much I tell them all I’m fine, apparently there’s still a question as to whether or not I can handle hosting such an event. It probably doesn’t help thatI’mquestioning it as well, but I have to stay strong—if not for the town, then for Grandma. I want to do this in her honor.
So, I plaster on my brightest smile, unwilling to show him how the reminder of Grandma’s absence, and all that comes with it, makes my stomach sour. “I’m sure. Grandma wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”
Don presses his lips into a thin line, the grimace almost disappearing beneath the bushy mustache. “I know it’s what she would have wanted, but if you aren’t ready . . .”
I shake my head, holding my chin high and willing my shoulders back to portray a confidence I’m still trying to find. “I can do this, Don. I promise, I won’t let you down.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that. I just know your grandmother left some pretty big shoes to fill.”
I know his concern is nothing but kind, yet it feels as though he’s slowly driving a knife through my heart. Every day without Grandma has been a struggle, but I’ve devoted every waking moment to ensuring things go on like normal, with minimal disruption to everyone’s lives.
My shoulders begin to sag under Don’s doubt and concern, and the steel rod I’ve tied to my spine since her funeral starts to bend. Maybe I haven’t been managing things as well as I thought, especially if even Don can see through me so easily.
“Amelia is more than ready,” Lucy butts in, noticing the way I’m starting to crumble. She puts on her signature smile that warns everyone within a mile radius that she’s ready for trouble. “Besides, she has me backing her up. What could go wrong?”
Don puffs out his cheeks and blows a long breath through tight lips, giving a small shake of his head. “Yes . . . Well . . . Good luck with that, Miss Amelia.” He leans across the counter, lowering his voice in a mock whisper. “Don’t let her anywhere near the children’s activities.”
I giggle conspiratorially at Lucy’s gaping mouth.
“Hey!”
Don gives me a wink and turns away, taking a sip of his drink. “Have a nice day, girls!”
I wave at his retreating back. “See you tomorrow.”
The moment the bell above the door announces his departure, I slouch with relief, leaning against the countertop for support.
“Thank you,” I mutter, all my forced congeniality palpably leaving my body.
“It’s okay, ya know. To ask for help, show a little bit of vulnerability. Everyone knows how hard it’s been for you since she died.”
“I know, but . . .” I sigh, my chin thumping against my forearms. “I knew this was Moonlit Pages’s year to sponsor the festival, but I thought she would be here. I thought I had one more Halloween with her. The planning was easy; I’ve been helping her with that my entire life. But the speeches, socializing, and all that . . . She would have loved doing it all one last time.”
Lucy presses her lips together, emerald eyes studying my pathetically hunched form. “I know, it was sudden. Honestly, I thought the old girl would never die.”
With the first smile of the morning, she dances out of reach as I swat at her. “Hey now, careful what you say. The veil between here and the afterlife is thinning every day; she’ll probably hear you and hex your milk frother.”
Lucy holds up a finger. “Don’t you dare say that. Grandma,” she calls out to no one in particular, “if you’re listening, I’m sorry. We love and miss you. Please don’t hex Milly from the afterlife.”
A giggle bubbles out of my chest. “Milly?”
She pets the frother affectionately. “That’s her name today.”
“Yeah, well, yesterday it was ‘that MF.’ As in ‘that motherfucking milk frother.’”
“All couples fight. Yesterday was a bad day, but we’re starting over.”
I can’t stop the genuine chuckle that shakes my shoulder, and I’m reminded why I love this girl so damn much. The jangling front door announces our first actual customer of the day, and I jump to my feet, straightening my skirt.
“Time to get to work.”
“Yay,” Lucy grumbles, already preparing for her next drink order.
