Chapter Thirty-Eight
Maggie walks to Denim before the store opens. Lexington Avenue is bustling with the early-morning frenzy of people getting to work and school. Cars clog every side street,
buses line the avenues, and everywhere people are walking dogs. A street-cleaning truck whirs noisily by just as she reaches
the shop, and she ducks under the awning to avoid the dirt and dust it kicks up in its wake.
Through the glass door pane, she spots Elaine already at the counter lining the store’s branded shopping bags with colorful
tissue paper. The door is locked, so she knocks. Elaine looks up, surprised.
“Welcome back,” she says, opening the door. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
“We left the retreat early.” Maggie bursts into tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Without another word, Elaine locks up, makes sure the closed sign is outward-facing and leads Maggie to the back of the store.
The stockroom is more of a large closet, shelving and racks lining the walls.
Transparent, stackable bins house accessories like scarves and belts.
There’s a tiny table, the surface of which is covered with spare barcode scanners.
Elaine pulls out a stool tucked away in the corner and insists Maggie sit.
She herself remains standing, arms folded in front of her chest.
“Tell me everything.”
Maggie does: starting with Ethan showing up at the store as she was closing Thursday night, and their conversation about the
proposal and timing, and going through the way the whole thing snowballed over the course of the weekend.
“And now she won’t even take my calls. Can you imagine? Piper won’t speak to me.”
Elaine nods sympathetically. Then she reaches out and clasps one of Maggie’s hands in both of her own and looks her in the
eye.
“Maggie, I’ve known you since you were younger than Piper is now. And I can tell you, in case you’ve forgotten, that you never
planned to make this store your lifelong career.”
The comment is so off-topic, she assumes Elaine is just trying to distract her.
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Just an observation. Would you agree?”
Sure, there’s some truth to it. Working in the clothing boutique isn’t her dream job. But most people don’t get to make their
living in the way they want. Sure, some people do: like Belinda and her knitting retreats at the inn. While others, like Piper,
throw a once-in-a-lifetime chance away because it’s not their dream. But there’s no sense thinking about that now.
“Are you trying to cheer me up or make me feel worse?”
“Neither.” Elaine toys with the spectacles on a chain around her neck. “I’m trying to convey a point: It’s important in life
to take a chance sometimes. To leap before you look. And sure, you think it’s easy for me to say. But I practice what I preach.
I started in finance, then I opened this place, and I’m always investing in new businesses and opportunities. The key is to
keep pushing forward.”
She stands up and takes deep breaths. Talking to Elaine isn’t helping one bit.
“Maggie, come sit for a moment. Last week, after Piper had the little mishap during the fashion show, what did I tell you?”
Again, she’s not following her. But she tries to play along, tries to remember. That morning was five days ago already, and
it’s a blur. She just shakes her head.
“I told you: Even things that look terrible in the moment are actually paving the way for something good to happen.”
Now she remembers. It seemed like an empty platitude then, and even more so now.
“How can something good come out of Piper not talking to me?”
“She’s taking some space. But she’s also giving you some space.”
“I don’t want space!”
“Well, maybe you should reconsider that. Never underestimate the value of space,” Elaine says. “And once you don’t mind it
so much, I guarantee that’s when Piper won’t need it anymore.”
The front door buzzes.
“That’s my scarf delivery,” Elaine says, reaching out and patting her knee. “Think about it.”
Maggie is disappointed that Elaine, her stalwart, confident mentor and—let’s face it—substitute mother figure has so little
to offer in this moment of need. But really, what did she expect? The only thing that will alleviate her misery is Piper’s
forgiveness.
She’s going back to Ethan’s, and this time she’s not leaving until she speaks to her daughter.
Piper wakes up and reaches for Ethan, but he’s already gone from their bed. She looks at the ring on her finger and sighs with contentment. It’s so cozy in the warmth of the comforter, she feels she could stay there forever. Then she sits up with a start: Maggie.
She jumps out of bed. Seven hours of sleep hasn’t alleviated her anger. If anything, she feels worse. Maggie’s transgression
becomes more and more damning the more she thinks about it. She doesn’t want to be bogged down in this negativity; this should
be one of the happiest weekends of her life. So she turns things over and over in her mind, looking for some angle that gives
her an emotional exit ramp, a way to just let it go. But she keeps coming back to this: The one thing she always knew for
sure was that she and Maggie never lie to one another. But her mother did lie. She did!
Even if Maggie genuinely thought Ethan would somehow be putting pressure on her with a marriage proposal—and Piper still doesn’t
understand that logic—that misbelief should have ended Friday night when Piper confided in her. She should have told Piper
the truth.
She finds Ethan in the kitchen, his back to her while he rummages through the refrigerator. She plans to walk right over and
put her arms around him, but stops short, her attention caught by a vase of towering white lilies, their heady, intoxicating
scent mixing with the aroma of fresh coffee.
“What are these for?” she says, kissing Ethan on the cheek. He’s freshly shaven and dressed for work. He doesn’t answer, but
takes her hand and leads her to a chair at the table in their tiny little corner breakfast nook.
“I know you’re upset with Maggie. But I don’t want that to overshadow the joy we should be feeling.”
She kisses him. “It’s not. And I want to keep it that way.
” We wanted it to be ours. Piper can hear Lexi saying the words that she didn’t fully appreciate at the time.
But now she understands them completely.
“So I have a request,” she says, stepping back just enough to look him in the eyes.
“I don’t want a big wedding. I want to elope. ”
Ethan frowns. “Really?”
“Yes. It’s the only way to get married on our own terms.”
“Let’s see how you feel in time. I know you’re upset right now, but I think you’d really regret excluding your mother.”
“I won’t. I’m thinking about a lot of conversations I had with people this weekend. I’m not the only one who feels this way.
In fact—you know Cole?”
“Don’t remind me,” Ethan says, but smiles. They can laugh at his jealousy now that they’ve come through the weekend.
“Cole hid an entire relationship from his father just to avoid upsetting him. And it all came out over the weekend, and it
made me realize how questionable some of my own choices have been. Like, how much am I doing because I want to, and how much
have I chosen to make my mother happy? No more of that. It’s you and me.”
She can tell by the expression on his face that he thinks she’s being reactive, but he won’t push for now. He just kisses
her cheek, takes her hand and suggests they go grab breakfast at Barney Greengrass before he heads into the office.
They grab their coats and take the stairs down to the first floor. She stares at the ring as she walks. After all the time
she spent thinking about it, now it’s on her finger. She feels a little foolish for all her worry. All this time, Ethan was
never the problem. It’s been her relationship with her mother.
The lobby, as always, smells like their first-floor neighbors’ cigarette smoke, and one of the overhead lights is out, making
the narrow space dingier than usual. Also unusual is someone sitting on the vestibule bench . . . knitting.
And that someone is her mother.
“What are you doing here?” She glances back at Ethan, who holds up both palms as if to say, Calm. Easy. It’s okay.
Maggie jumps up, her face tense and determined.
“I understand that you’re upset with me. But Piper, you can’t just refuse to talk. And I’m not leaving until we do.”
Piper shakes her head. Beside her, Ethan says, “I have to get to work, anyway—”
“No,” Piper says sharply. “We’re going to have breakfast.”
“I’ll wait for you outside,” he says. Before she can object, Ethan is off down the corridor, the heavy front door opening
with a groan and then slamming shut behind him. Her mother grabs hold of Piper’s left hand.
“Are you—”
Piper turns back to Maggie and shakes her hand free. “Yes. We’re getting married,” Piper says.
“Oh, sweetheart. Congratulations.”
She moves to hug her, but Piper takes a step back.
“Congratulations? You told him not to propose. This only happened in spite of you.”
“I understand how you feel. That’s why I want to talk it through.”
“Mom, you can camp out in this lobby all day and night. But that’s not going to change anything.”
“So what will?” Maggie’s eyes are wide. “Tell me how to make this right.”
Piper feels bad, but she’s not the one who created this situation. And so she only has one answer for her mother. At least,
for now. “I need you to leave me alone.”