34. Sylvia
SYLVIA
S ierra comes on the bus from Toronto on Tuesday.
School is done for the year and she’s moving to Empire for good.
I expect her to be a bit emotional about leaving behind the life she knows, so I’ve planned on some shopping after I pick her up in Havelock.
I’m not going to spend all of Mike’s support payment, but she does need a few things.
I’m so proud that he talked to his dad, and I love that he’s excited about his work even if his dad isn’t listening. He called Monday night and talked with such enthusiasm that I wished I’d asked him over. On the other hand, it was romantic to lie in bed in the trailer with his murmur in my ear.
To my surprise, Sierra gets off the bus with a large package as well as her backpack. She also has a suitcase under the bus, a reminder that my teen has roughly five times the wardrobe I have.
We’re going to need an extra trailer.
“Lila’s mom must be surprised by how big her house is now,” I say and she sticks out her tongue at me playfully. “ What’s this?” I take the package from her so she can grab the suitcase.
“The sign. My sign.”
Why does she need a sign? We get her stuff to the car and put it in the back.
“You should look at it, Mom.”
This is clearly important. She’s waiting and watching, eyes bright.
I unwrap the package and find the cutest sign inside.
It’s maybe fifteen by twenty-four and says Bee Happy in big type.
Below, in smaller type, is written Flowers & Herbs .
There are line drawings of flowers, the obligatory bumble bee with a dotted line behind it and a faded gingham border. It looks professional and attractive.
“Lila did it. For the greenhouse.”
“I thought you were just going to grow some herbs for Merrie.”
“No, Mom. It’s my summer job.” She pulls out her phone and shows me a whole lot of pictures in a collage.
“I remembered Merrie’s vision board, so Lila and I made one for Bee Happy .
Mike said that he knows someone who grows flowers and sells them at the farmer’s market. He told us about it at Rupert’s.”
“I remember. I think that’s Pat,” I muse as I scroll through Sierra’s compilation. I’m impressed by how much work and thought she’s put into this. “You did all this?”
She nods. “Lila didn’t help that much, but she painted the sign. Her mom put some coating on it so it can be outside, on the door of the greenhouse.”
I realize that if Mike is going to teach Sierra about growing under glass, I can teach her about running a business. Our shopping plan changes immediately. “All right. If you’re serious about this, there are things we need to do. ”
“Like what?”
“You need a business license, a bank account and a tax number. We’ll set up as partners. You also need a way to take people’s money if you’re going to sell retail. You need a place to sell, either online or in person.”
“I need a website,” she says and she’s probably right. “And socials to draw in new customers.”
“You need a product.”
“Mike and I planted seeds.”
“Whose seeds? If you’re selling a product, you have to pay the costs of it.”
She looks crushed and I see how serious she is. “I don’t have any money.”
“Yes, you do. I’ll put five hundred dollars in that account.” Thank you, Mike . “We’ll go open it now and make it joint between us. It’s your seed money.”
“I’m not going to spend that much on seeds!”
“No, seed money is what I’m investing in your business to get you started.”
“It’s not very much.”
I almost laugh at how quickly she swings from ‘so much’ to ‘not much.’ “No matter how much you have, it’s not enough. That’s how you learn to get the most mileage out of your money.”
“How so?” She gets in the car and I head for our favourite discount clothing place. She needs a couple of white blouses and some black pants for work, at the very least.
“Well, look at the café. People pay cash or with a credit card. We get that money right away.”
“But Merrie has to buy ingredients sooner than that so she can make their meals.”
“Right. So, a lot of that we put on credit and pay in thirty days. ”
“I don’t think I should ask Mike for credit for the seeds.”
“No, neither do I, but there might be something else that you can pay for that way. Like, if you need buckets for your display.”
“I do! I want those tin ones that they use in Paris. I found some online…”
“Maybe you can find some vintage or used ones instead of buying new. Take your vision board down to Willow. She may have some ideas for you – and she might let you put what you need for your stand on layaway until you have flowers to sell. Try the thrift store or the dollar store. Think of ways to not spend what money you have, or to spend less of it.”
She nods solemnly.
“First up, shirts and pants for work.”
“I can wear some old jeans for working in the greenhouse,” she agrees.
“Can you file a business name online? Because we need that before we open the bank account for Bee Happy . Then you can apply for a tax number.” I drive and her thumbs fly as she hunts down the answer.
Before we head into the store, I send Mike a message and ask him if we could stop to talk to Pat. Ten minutes later, he sends me directions and says that Pat will be available all afternoon. He ends with a thumbs-up and a rose, which makes me smile.
Sierra is reading the text over my shoulder. “Don’t forget the council meeting in Havelock tonight, Mom.”
As if I could. Patrick Cavendish filed a complaint with the Havelock city council over Luke’s renovation of the Odeon theatre and his plan to host a concert there.
I think Patrick has ensured that everyone despises him in town, just with that one move.
A lot of businesses, ours included, are counting on the extra traffic.
The motels and campgrounds are booked to capacity.
The tribute concert promises to be quite the event.
“I have to be there to support my non-dad,” Sierra says.
“From what I’ve heard, half the town will be there to support Luke and his band’s concert.”
“Good. Nasty people shouldn’t be allowed to win.”
She’s got it in one, making me wonder again how I’ll tell Mike the worst of it.
Luke wins. Actually, he wins against Patrick with Daphne’s help.
The mood afterward is celebratory – well, for everyone except Patrick.
We end up at the café because Merrie spontaneously invites people back there and it ends up being a late night.
Mike doesn’t make an appearance. When I text about it, he sends me a picture of yellow and red cherry tomatoes.
They look like the new variety and there are stacked flats of them in a warehouse.
“Trouble with the custom logo,” he says, as if that explains everything.
“You sound tired.”
“No rest for the wicked and all that.” He sighs. “Give Luke my congrats.”
I have to go then, because there are drinks to serve. I blow him a kiss and ask him to call me later, when he’s done.
When I finally head out to the Subaru, Queen Street is quiet.
It’s long past midnight and I yawn as I walk toward the car.
The streetlights aren’t that close together, so the light is dim.
I can see the blinking Vacancy sign at the Maple Leaf Motel to the left and the bright lights of the Petro Canada station.
To the right is the shadowy silhouette of Big Red and a whole lot of darkened windows in between.
Mike hasn’t called yet, so he’s probably still overseeing the packing of those tomatoes. I check my phone again.
I barely notice the car parked in front of mine, even though there aren’t many cars on the street. I realize it’s a late model Cadillac when the driver’s door opens and I freeze with my own key in my door lock.
“So, it is you,” Patrick Cavendish says. He stands beside his car, his expression belligerent. “I warned you to stay away.”
Oh, yes, he did. I stop cold.
“My grandmother lives here,” I say, hearing my own hostility. “She needs me right now.”
“I want you to leave,” he says. “I want you to pack up that car and drive right back out of town. I want you to close this restaurant and take your friend with you.” He takes a step closer. “But mostly, I want you to leave my son alone.”
“Mike is an adult who can make his own choices.”
“Mike is a trusting, kind, honorable man who doesn’t deserve to have some slut take advantage of him.”
I flinch at his choice of word, though it shouldn’t surprise me. We have talked before, Mr. Cavendish and I, and those exchanges weren’t any more friendly than this one is shaping up to be.
He inhales sharply. “That picture is an abomination,” he seethes and I know he’s talking about the one in The Empire Chronicle, the one of Mike and I kissing, the one that Sierra has made her lock-screen image. “My son would never make such a shameless display…”
“But he did and it was nothing to be ashamed about.”
Patrick raises a finger. “You leave him alone or I will make you regret it, girl.”
“Mike deserves to know his daughter.”
“Does he? You haven’t thought that for fifteen years. What changed?”
I open my mouth but he continues without giving me a chance to speak.
“I’ll tell you what changed. That girl was never Mike’s daughter.
She is Luke’s and you have common ground with him in your lack of respect for any kind of decency.
All three of you are bad seeds! I don’t care what you and Luke do together, but you’re not going to do it here, in my town, and you’re not going to drag Michael into your mess. I will not tolerate it!”
“Sierra is not Luke’s daughter.”
“So, you say, now that Luke is getting rid of his money as quickly as he can. He can’t support you in the style you desire, so you’re looking for another mark.” He leans close, eyes blazing. “It will not be Michael. Mark my words, girl, I will stop you, no matter what it takes.”
I haven’t faced such animosity in a long time and I don’t know what to say. There’s a vein throbbing in his temple and I remember that he’s had one loss tonight already.
“Remember your place or I’ll remind you.” He pivots and marches back to his car.
I take a breath. “You can’t control everyone in the world, Mr. Cavendish, not even in Empire.”
He looks over his shoulder at me, then takes a step back toward me.
“No? You might be surprised how miserable I can make the life of that girl. Or maybe you don’t recall what an idyllic childhood Luke had.
” He sneers the word, smiles at my reaction to his threat against my daughter.
“You will do what I say or I will make sure both of you regret it.”
“You will not hurt my daughter!”
“I will do whatever is necessary to defend my son. ”
I’m stunned to silence, as he gets into his car. He drives off, leaving me shaking with anger and fear.
He wouldn’t physically injure Sierra. (At least I don’t think so.) He’s more likely to ensure that doors were closed to her, that people shun her, that cruel things are said.
That’s just what he did to Luke.
He would see that she was cheated of opportunities. Maybe he would find a way to block our settlement agreement and Mike’s support payments. Maybe he would fire Mike to achieve that.
I have no idea how far Patrick Cavendish will go to get what he wants, and I feel sick.
My instinct is to confide in Mike, but I hesitate.
I haven’t asked him outright but I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m the one lying about the letters, not his father.
He works with his father. He trusts his father.
He will inherit at least part of Cavendish Enterprises from his father.
It’s not a gamble to pick which story he’ll choose.
My beautiful girl. I would do anything to defend her.
It’s too late to keep from falling for Mike again, but my feelings have to remain secret.
For Sierra’s sake.