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Living History Illinois Flockify DM, Wednesday 8:15 PM
AlCaponesGhost25: I saw someone in the general channel ask about costumes, so I told them to DM you. And if you have a pic of the ballgown, I could pin it to the top of the period clothing channel?
SingerQueen: I thought self-promo wasn’t really allowed. But thanks for the referral!
AlCaponesGhost25: See, I’m not a threat to your livelihood.
SingerQueen: …
AlCaponesGhost25: ?
SingerQueen: I mean…
AlCaponesGhost25: Do you think you’ll ever fully get past me opening my store?
T he snow doesn’t stop. Over the next week, the temperature drops further, and layer after layer of white reshapes the town.
We wake up to muted winter light falling through Leo’s curtains. I stretch and roll into him. It’s our first morning together in a while. He’s been as busy as I’ve been it seems. I’ve missed him, but it’s also allowed me to catch up at the store. Holiday decorations are up, December promotions are underway, the guy who’s installing the stairlift for Harvey is coming tomorrow, and I’m only a few orders behind on sewing. Judging by the slowed speed of new Etsy orders, I do think that bad review hurt me. But like Micki says, I have no choice but to move forward. She’s also the one who told me to get over myself about the Best New Business thing.
“Happy Paws can’t be nominated for that anyway,” she said. “The council has like three stores to choose from. Don’t you agree it should go to Leo?”
And I do. I wrap my arm around his shoulder beneath the covers and rest my forehead on the spot at the base of his neck. He takes hold of my hand and brings it to his lips.
“Did you sleep?” he mumbles.
“Like a rock. I wish I didn’t have to get up.”
He turns to face me, a pillow indent marring his beautiful face. I run my fingertips across it, and his lashes sweep low. “I’d ask you to stay,” he says between little sighs of pleasure as I paint featherlight trails across his features, “but I know you’ve got a full plate.”
He’s mentioned that several times this past week and has given me time and space. I appreciate it, I do, but there are moments, like right now, when I wish his restraint didn’t come quite so easily. A vain part of me wants him to claim my time because he can’t help himself. If letting go after a night like the one we just had evokes no stronger emotion than “you do what you have to do,” then what’s to say he won’t tire of me before the year is up? Or, say, pack up and leave town?
“Do you want me to go?” I whisper, nestling into the crook of his throat.
“I want you to do whatever is best for you.” He kisses my head.
I roll away from him and sit up. My toes tentatively try the floor, and I shiver as the chill creeps up my legs.
“What does it look like outside?” Leo asks.
I pull the curtains open and take in the winter wonderland before me. “The good news is it stopped snowing.” I let the curtain fall closed again. “The bad news is we got another eight inches or so overnight.”
“Probably best not to drive out to the farm today, then.”
“Yeah, I don’t care how well your car handles. I’m not risking it.” I sit down on the chair next to the bed and pull on my jeans. “And to be honest, I think Cho is as good as she’ll get. At this point, she either has it or she doesn’t. I’m going to focus on her talent this week.”
Leo nods to himself. “Probably a good idea. Plus, if you’re not going to train, there’s no point in me doing it either since Tilly won’t do a thing without Cholula nearby.”
I grimace. “What can I say? They love each other.”
His expression lightens. It’s like hearing the L-word spoken jolts him out of whatever rigid fist has him in its grip, whatever idea of “correct behavior to please Cora” he’s operating from.
“Something on your mind?” I ask, breathless, as an inner flame animates his face. For once, I want him to let himself go without any careful planning, without weighing each word in gold. Say it even if it’s perfectly imperfect.
He blinks. Then his lips tip up in a half smile. “Nothing.” He pulls the covers back and gets out. “Brr, it’s freezing in here. Can I make you some coffee before you go? Breakfast of champions.”
The muscles on his bare back play beneath his skin as he reaches for his shirt. It transports me to that night in the fields looking for Boris. I still think his naked torso deserves to be cast in bronze and put on display somewhere. Too soon it disappears behind soft cotton.
“Coffee would be great.”
“Stay,” I tell Cap hours later after I’ve cleaned the store, stuffed three new orders into their mailers, and talked to Harvey. I have Cap lying in the middle of my living space, the promise of a treat in my hand keeping him at attention. “Cho, your turn. Hop on.”
She jumps onto his back, and I praise them both. They’ve got this down now, but it’s time for the next step. I make him stand and repeat my commands. “Cap, right here. Stay.”
I tried this a few weeks back when they weren’t ready, which led to Cap avoiding Cho like the plague for a few days. Can’t say I blame him. If someone unexpectedly jumped onto my back, I’d be terrified of her, too. But, little by little, we’ve worked toward this moment. Fancier treats associated with my new command to “hop on” have made Cap more amenable to the circus act. This is the moment.
“Cho, hop on.”
The tiny dog sits back for leverage, pushes off, and lands gracefully on her brother’s back. It’s a dog tower. We did it!
“Yeah!” I laugh. “You guys!” I hand out treats and throw one Boris’s way, too, even though his contribution is limited to staying out of the way. For him, that’s still an accomplishment.
Each dog in the show has only two minutes to show off a skill. My plan is to have Cholula balance on a number of different items and end with Cap’s back. If I had more time, I might have attempted an exercise ball like Harvey suggested, but this will have to do. I feel… okay about it. The outcome will depend on the other contestants. Last year, the most exciting skill was a mini goldendoodle who spent the full two minutes on his hind legs like a meerkat. Cholula would have beaten that easily. The year before that, however, someone brought in a spaniel who could jump through a burning hula hoop. If they come back, we’re toast. Pun intended.
I snap a picture and send it to Harvey. Five minutes later, he calls.
“How did you do that?” he asks.
“Lots of patience.”
“Cho looks well-pleased with herself. Aww, I miss my girl. And you too of course,” he hurries to add.
“They’ll be happy to have you home again. What time are you coming on Thursday?” Mom has arranged an accessible transport through Dalebrook to take him home, and for that I’m grateful. The roads have been salted, but Harvey’s car predates even basic safety measures like airbags. It’s better for everyone that I welcome him here.
“Some time midday, I believe. Hold on.”
Someone speaks on the other end of the line, muffled words I can’t make out.
“Sylvia says the transport picks up at noon. She says hi.”
“Hi, Sylvia. Okay, then I know when to expect you.”
“And you are sure you’ll be all right at your place again? Didn’t Michaela rent out your room?”
“To her sister, but she’ll be moving out soon.” Lucky for me, or I’d have to call the little couch my home a lot longer. “Don’t worry about anything other than getting ready to break out of that joint,” I say. “I’ll be fine. I’m always fine. Are you excited?”
The day is almost gone outside, streetlights casting yellow circles on the plowed snowdrifts. Canine King’s interior is lit up even though they’re closed. I lean closer to the window when I spot Tilly bounding across the floor. What are they doing? My breath makes the pane fog up, and I wipe it off with my sleeve as Harvey recounts his recovery and what he’ll miss about the nursing home. He makes it sound like he’s been on vacation.
A projectile goes flying through the air inside Leo’s store, followed by Tilly jumping up and catching it in her mouth. Leo becomes visible, and the two of them roughhouse with the toy between the displays. I can’t help but smile. Leo backs up again, and it looks like Tilly barks in excitement before she catches the toy again. She’s good.
Oh…
They’re practicing her talent. That means good is bad.
“How does that sound?” Harvey asks.
I’ve completely tuned him out. I move away from the window and take a steadying breath. Many dogs can catch, fewer can balance on their brother’s back. I’ve got this. When I win, Leo will be happy for me. “Sure, yeah, that’s great.”
“Leo is welcome, too, of course.”
Um what? “Welcome to—?”
“You okay, kiddo? I was saying Sylvia might be stopping by this weekend for a meal. I’ve talked so much about the store. She wants to see it.”
He’s got my full attention again. “I knew it! You and Sylvia.” I make a melody out of her name.
He tuts at me. “No, no, we’re only friends.”
Right… Finally, something good has come out of this fall. Geriatric lurve . “I’m happy for you, Pop.”
“Psht,” he huffs, but I hear him smiling. “Happy that I have made a friend, okay? Everyone needs a social life. It’s important for keeping the mind young. Life can’t only be about work.”
At the mention of that, I throw another glance across the street. The lights are off downstairs now, but it feels like Leo is watching me. I haven’t forgotten our deal. Maybe I should rip the Band-Aid off. At least this way, I don’t have to see the disappointment in my grandpa’s eyes.
“I actually wanted to talk to you about that,” I say, sitting down on the bed. Cholula jumps up next to me and curls against my side.
“One sec, kiddo.” He covers the receiver so his voice garbles. When he returns, he says, “Sylvia was leaving. Charles spoke again by the way.”
“That’s great.” My hands have started to sweat. This is taking too long—I need to get it out. “So, I was saying… I’ve been thinking about the future and stuff, and I know I’ve said I’ll always be here, but— Um…”
“But you want to do other things,” Harvey fills in, his voice soft.
For a moment I sit there in a stupor. He knows?
“I won’t lie. I had hoped we’d continue together. It’s been such a joy. But then this happened, and you got thrown in the deep.” He pauses, and I hold my breath until he speaks again. “I guess what I’m saying is, during my stay here, I’ve realized I never asked you what you wanted. And when Sylvia showed me your intergram—”
“Instagram.”
He brushes off my correction and continues. “With your creations and how people react and comment, everything came together. That one picture of you at the sewing machine… your smile…” He pauses. “You’re not happy being a store clerk. Like I said at Thanksgiving, I will be forever grateful to you, my granddaughter, for giving me these years, but you should do what you want.”
A shallow sob escapes my throat. “You’re not upset?”
“Not a bit.”
Fifty tons of dread lift from my shoulders and flitter off.
“Just have to keep the place afloat for now, but we’ll figure the rest out,” Harvey says.
Just. That’s still plenty of responsibility. Twenty-five of the recently departed tons return to perch. My stomach tightens. If I’m not going to stay on at the store, I’ll at least make sure to leave Harvey in good shape and able to afford reliable help.
“You have to win,” I tell Cholula after I hang up. “Everything depends on it.”