Chapter 12
12
[Genie]
W hile Judd and I passed the first test relatively unscathed, a second round comes up when the family lines the two wooden picnic tables pushed together to accommodate such a large group of people.
“So, Genie, what do you do?”
As much as I love my job, I’m also very protective of it. I’m hesitant to share at times.
As Ralson so lovingly pointed out, said tongue in cheek, my mother thinks my professional life is a hobby. As a woman who has never worked a day in her life, she wouldn’t understand the ins and outs of working independently or self-employment.
“I design calendars.”
Judd offers me a warm smile, as I’ve already told him what I do.
I clear my throat. “Actually, I run my own business called Quirky Girl Calendars.”
Clay’s head pops forward as he’s on the same bench as me but down the way. I’ve surmised the basics about how Sylver Seed & Soil, family owned and operated, was once a small business but is now more of a medium-sized corporation with divisions and specialties underneath their company umbrella.
Which is what I want for my small business one day. Growth.
“As I’m the artist plus marketing director and chief financial officer,” I glance at Judd and wink. “I’m looking to expand.”
“Why does Quirky Girl Calendars sound familiar?” Enya asks. She’s seated on the opposite side of the table where her husband Sebastian is practically glued to her side and holding their three-month-old baby girl, Annabelle.
Judd and I got separated in the seating arrangement, so we sit across from one another, and somehow, at the head of the table.
I hesitate again, feeling most eyes on me. This is the point where I either shut down conversation, sensing listeners will think my work is simplistic or play up my creative designs.
I take a chance on the Sylvers.
Flatting my hand and pushing up the ends of my short hair in a flirty way, I state, “I’m Quirky Girl, so I sketch lots of women in different colors, shapes, and sizes with a variety of outfits. Gardening. Reading. The like. Then I fill the calendar with fun, unique specialty dates.”
“Like what?” Halle, Knox’s wife asks. The red-haired mother of two teens is seated beside me.
I glance at Sebastian. “Like World Baking Day, coming up on May seventeenth.”
He offers me a crooked smile and Enya turns her head to look lovingly at him.
“Wait.” She pauses and swivels back to me. “I have one of your calendars. I love it.” She glances back to Sebastian. “It’s the one on my desk.”
“The one that told us which day was National Sex Toy Day?” he questions, keeping his gaze firmly on his wife.
“What?” Judd chokes across from me and I look over at him to see him reaching for his beer.
“That’s the one.” Enya smiles sheepishly at Sebastian before looking back at me.
“I want to know more about a calendar that honors sex toys,” Cadence, Ford’s pregnant fiancée announces from the other side of Sebastian. I’m still a little star-struck that the country music icon is seated casually at this table with the rest of us adoring fans.
She lifts her phone and says, “What day is National Sex Toy Day? I want to mark my calendar.”
“November fourth,” I state.
“Don’t mark your calendar, buy one from Genie,” Judd interjects, and I turn toward him. No one has ever sounded so adamant about purchasing my calendars.
“What’s a sex toy?” Winnie asks from somewhere behind Cadence and Ford who are seated together.
“A toy for adults and one you won’t need,” Ford explains to his eight-year-old, while twisting on the bench seat to free himself from the table. “Ever.”
“Now, cowboy,” Cadence chides, her mouth falling open as if to explain, but Ford is quick to cover her lips with his hand. She chuckles beneath his palm.
Ford stands. “Who wants to play catch?” After a quick hand-rub over Cadence’s belly and a kiss to her head, he’s off to wrangle the kids old enough to toss a ball.
Couple goals whispers through my head.
Wait? What? I don’t have couple goals. I don’t plan to be a couple. I’m party of one. Numero uno. Only me.
Then I glance back at Judd, who, like me, was just watching Ford interact with Cadence. Slowly, he glances back at me and then lowers his eyes.
“Anyway, I’d like to grow my brand.”
“What would that look like?” Clay asks.
“Merchandise. Notepads. Stickers. Pens. Office supplies to start.” I wave around me. Dream big , my dad would say. “But I’m a one-woman show, so I’m looking for help.”
“Like what?” Judd asks, his eyes trained on me again, like he’s fully invested in learning more.
“I’ve accepted I can’t grow alone. I need suppliers and purchasing. Pricing and marketing. Production alone is daunting. So, a large-scale greeting card company is interested in buying my brand.”
As exciting as it should sound, my gut sours at the thought. I’ve worked so hard to develop Quirky Girl Calendars, but I have so much more I want to do with her. As I’ve said, I need help.
“What does that mean for you?” Judd asks.
I shrug as the sourness begins to burn a little. “Greetings Ambassador said they’d keep me on as a designer, after they purchase existing designs. Essentially, they’ll own my brand, but I’ll get to keep working on it.”
“Your basic mergers and acquisitions,” Judd states, his tone matter of fact. His gaze lowers to his plate and he tosses his napkin on it before glancing up at Clay. “Do we use Greetings Ambassador?”
Clay scoffs. “They’re kind of a conglomerate in the greeting card industry. We appreciate the little guys. Or gals.” Clay winks.
For some reason, I feel like I need to defend myself and the possible purchase of my little company, but my voice is small when I say, “They promised to still honor the Quirky Girl Calendar vision.”
The truth is they could decide after purchasing that they hate my existing designs or my future ideas, and I’d be screwed. I couldn’t continue to create Quirky Girl products. I’d have to start all over again at square one.
I worked for a large paper production company before branching out on my own to design my calendars and finding my niche with the specialty dates. I’ve always loved calendars, having five at any given time, hanging in my home-office back in my apartment. For twelve years, I’ve been on my own, designing and creating, scrambling and fixating, and I just want a little relief. Some help.
Greetings Ambassador could be a big break. They could really elevate and elaborate on what I’ve started.
The idea is thrilling while throat-choking.
Judd and Clay exchange a look before Clay asks, “Is the sale a done deal?”
“I have a meeting in mid-June. Calendars are cyclical, every pun intended, and they’d like to get me so I can be in their fall release for the December-January market which is one of the hottest times for new calendar purchases.”
There are two times in a year that calendars sell the most: the end of a year and late-third quarter when students return to schools. I’ll miss the closer date due to the lateness of our appointment, but there’s hope to meet Greetings Ambassador’s fall lineup.
“They’re old school. The meeting is in New York.” I wiggle in my seat, sounding bougie about the location.
“Would you need to move to New York?” Judd’s voice sounds strained.
“No. Most of my work is remote, so despite the daunting meeting in the big city, I can still work from my home in Knoxville.”
The table goes quiet.
Oops .
“Are you moving to Knoxville?” Clay asks Judd
“No.” His answer comes a bit too adamant.
“How is this going to—” Clay continues, pointing between Judd and me.
“Who wants dessert?” Vale asks, glancing at me from her position at the opposite end of the table. She stands rather quickly, bumping her knee beneath the table, and I’m grateful for the distraction despite the narrowed, questioning gaze in Vale’s eyes.
Halle pats my leg, and I turn toward her. “Don’t worry. We love a good second chance romance around here. And these things have a way of working out.”
Halle offers me a compassionate smile and I’m certain there’s a story between her and Knox I don’t know yet.
Glancing back at Judd, I’m worried I might never hear their tale. He won’t look at me. Instead, he picks up a bowl of potato salad and stands, helping his sister clear the table without speaking to anyone, including me. I don’t like the slump in his shoulders as I watch his back while he walks away.
As for Halle’s second chance romance comment, Judd and I would have had to be romantic in the first place, and that never happened.