Chapter 13 #2
“Yeah, I opened up shop a few months after my dad died.” Erin shrugged, and her bracelets jingled together. “I wanted to stay close to my mom. She’s the only family I have left.”
A drowning wave of guilt crashed over Juliette, making it nearly impossible to breathe.
While Erin wanted to be as close as possible to her family, Juliette was trying to get far away.
And for what? Why? She never even considered the inevitable…
never once thought about what her life would be like if she lost her mother or sisters for good.
Forever. The feeling left her uneasy and caused her palms to prickle with sweat.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak. To distract. “Your art is amazing, Erin.”
“Thanks.” The compliment lit her face from within. Her friend glowed with pride. “I have a decent stock right now, but when market season comes, it can get pretty bare in here.”
“Do you go up to Virginia Beach and sell at the local farmer’s markets?”
“Yep, every Saturday and Tuesday.”
“That’s awesome,” Juliette murmured. While her gaze lingered on a waist-high vase with terracotta and gold stripes, she was struck with an idea. “I started working on some design projects with Brockton Gallagher.”
Erin winked. “So I’ve heard.”
Of course she’d heard. Miss Bobbie likely made certain everyone in Mystic Cove knew about her working relationship with Brock.
“Well, I’d love to commission a couple pieces from you for the beach house renovation.
I was thinking it would be extra special to incorporate some local artisan flair.
Is that something you’d be interested in? ”
“Absolutely!” Erin propped her hands on her waist and glanced around her shop. “What’d you have in mind?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Juliette admitted. But she definitely wanted Erin’s work in the beach house.
Eye-catching pieces would attract out-of-town customers, which would be another point for them in terms of making the beach house profitable.
“Do you want to grab a coffee later? I can put together a couple ideas and then you can let me know what you think.”
“Sure.” Erin dug into the pocket of her khakis and handed Juliette a business card. “That’d be great.”
“Perfect.” Juliette’s mind was already picturing the layout for the wedding venue, and she was including Erin’s pottery in nearly every available space. “I’ll text you.”
The front door to Lovely Mud opened, and a gust of cold air swept a couple into the shop to browse. Erin waved goodbye with another brilliant smile, and Juliette slipped out the door so her friend could tend to the new customers.
She headed back to Mystic Florals and noticed a delivery truck out front, which was strange because they normally unloaded drop-offs in the morning, and always at the back of the shop. She picked up her pace and arrived in time to see Vivianne signing for three large boxes.
Juliette walked up and peeked over her sister’s shoulder. “What’s all this?”
“They’re for you,” Vivianne said brightly.
Juliette’s heart tumbled into the pit of her stomach. She may as well have been sucker-punched in the gut. All of the air was pulled from her lungs, and that familiar pain, that fresh, sweeping, paralyzing pain, left her broken.
She knew what was inside those boxes. She knew who they were from.
Rodrigo.
She’d left D.C. in a rush, anxious to get as far away from him and that city as quickly as possible.
Before she made the drive back to Mystic Cove, she’d told Rodrigo to just pack up all of her things and ship them to her.
She’d scribbled the address of the shop on a sticky note.
What she hadn’t expected was for him to get all of it in the mail to her so quickly.
She figured the miles between them would ease the heartbreak.
She was wrong.
“Oh.” Vivianne’s smile collapsed. “Oh no.”
She put herself between Juliette and the boxes. “I can get these out of the way. There’s space in the back, don’t worry. You’ll forget they’re here, and then—”
“It’s fine, Viv.” An emotion she couldn’t quite understand choked her. “I should go through them and get it over with.”
Sympathy swelled in Vivianne’s features. “It’s only been a few weeks.”
A few weeks seamlessly blended into what seemed like an eternity.
This was another reminder that she wasn’t good enough. Maybe she wouldn’t ever be good enough. A tangle of raw feelings tormented her. There had to be something she could do, a way to prove to herself, to everyone, that she was worthwhile.
Vivianne helped her haul the boxes up to the apartment. She stood awkwardly next to the stack of them and twisted her fingers together. “You want some help? Maybe a shoulder to cry on? A hand to squeeze?”
Juliette hugged her sister. “I’ll be okay, thank you though. But I need to do this on my own.”
And figure out where she went wrong.
“Okay.” Uncertainty tainted Vivianne’s voice, and she headed for the steps. “If you need me, or anything at all, I’ll be right downstairs.” She paused with one hand on the railing. “Come out with us tonight, Jules.”
Juliette looked up. “To where?”
“Nowhere crazy. Erin is hosting a pottery class over at Lovely Mud, and Adrienne mentioned earlier today that we should go. I was going to pass, but I think it could be fun for us sisters to do something together. Especially after all this.” She gestured to the stack of boxes.
“Sure.” Juliette nodded, her heart warming slightly. “I’d like that.”
Vivianne smiled once, then disappeared down the steps, and when Juliette was alone in the apartment, she opened up the boxes.
The first thing she noticed was that there was no note from Rodrigo, just her things neatly organized.
There were shorts, dresses, and more summery items, which had been tidily folded and stacked, along with some undergarments he’d concealed in tissue paper.
One entire box was filled with the rest of her shoes, all of them placed in their original boxes and packed using every bit of space.
She’d left a few personal items, mostly small purchases like some inexpensive jewelry, a few candles, and one bottle of perfume he bought for her.
He’d wrapped and padded each of them up and ensured they wouldn’t break during shipping, because leave it to Rodrigo to take care of her belongings even after she left.
In the last box, she pulled out a handful of design magazines. She’d never even opened them after she left Mystic Cove, she’d been so determined to do something else. To find her calling.
A piece of pink paper slipped out from the pages of one of the magazines, and Juliette scooped it up. Her eyes skimmed over the neat and bubbly letters.
You’re an amazing designer. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. Go do great things in D.C.
I love you, sissy.
xoxo,
Anne-Sophie
One tear slid hot and fast down Juliette’s cheek before she could blink it away.
Her baby sister had written her a note of encouragement when she’d left town, and she’d never even seen it because her pride had kept her from ever wanting anything to do with design.
From ever wanting anything to do with Mystic Cove.
She had been so obsessed with becoming someone else, she’d lost sight of her own dreams. Her own aspirations.
Juliette wiped away the unbidden tears as they continued to fall.
She had to talk to Anne-Sophie.