24. Dannica #2
I turn back to Mrs. Newberry and extend my hand. “I’ll come in Monday,” I say. “Bright and early. We can go over the contract.”
She smiles as she shakes my hand. “I look forward to it.” Then, as if nothing monumental has just happened, she adds, “I’ll take a slice of chocolate cake to go.”
The second she’s out the door, all hell breaks loose.
Shelly squeals, then Mary. Then Quadri, who I didn’t think was physically capable of squealing, joins in with something that is definitely close enough.
And then they’re on me. Hugging. Laughing. Talking all at once.
“You’re going to run a newspaper!”
“Oh my god, this is so cool!”
“We’re going to run a newspaper.”
“That’s what I said!”
“No, you said she—this is we now.” I laugh, breathless, caught in the middle of it, feeling something expand in my chest that I don’t even know how to name yet. Pride. Love. Relief. All of it tangled together.
LOCAL WOMAN SUPPORTED BY FRIENDS. EMOTIONAL DAMAGE: IMMINENT.
When it all settles, I find Grandma in the kitchen topping off the coffee machine like she didn’t hear the commotion out front.
“Hey,” I say softly.
She glances up. “You done causing scenes in my diner?”
I huff out a laugh. “Maybe.”
She studies me for a second longer before setting the pot down. “So, you’re taking the newspaper job?”
There it is. The question I thought I already knew the answer to. I lean against the counter, suddenly nervous all over again.
“I think…” I glance back toward the front where the girls are still arguing loudly about office space. “I think we want to do the diner together.”
Grandma blinks. “All of you?”
I nod slowly. “Joint ownership. Shared responsibility. Less chance of me having a stress-induced medical event before forty.”
One corner of her mouth twitches. “And the newspaper?”
My chest tightens slightly. “I still want it.”
The words come quieter this time. More honest. Grandma watches me carefully for a long moment. Then she nods once.
“Well,” she says simply, “your grandfather fixed engines six days a week and still painted every Sunday.”
I blink. “What?”
“You don’t stop being who you are just because you’ve got responsibilities. Responsibilities shouldn’t cost you yourself.”
Tears fill my eyes, and she opens her arms. “Child, you didn’t have to struggle. There is always a solution to one’s troubles.”
I cry tears of relief and maybe stupidity in my Grandma’s arms. Eventually she takes a step back and dries my eyes.
“I think a certain young man would be happy to hear your news.”
“I—” I bite back a smile that’s already trying to break free. “Can I leave early?”
She shrugs. “Ask your partners.”
Shelly, Quadri, and Mary bust into the kitchen.
Shelly waves a hand immediately. “Go.”
Mary nods. “Yes. Go.”
Quadri smirks slightly. “Tell your boyfriend your life is changing.”
I roll my eyes. “He’s not?—”
They all just look at me.
I roll my eyes. “Fine. I’m going.”
And just like that, I’m out the door, heart racing all over again but this time? For something entirely different.
As I step outside, the crisp air hits me, invigorating and filled with possibilities. I take a moment to breathe deeply, letting the excitement wash over me. This is a turning point. I can feel it in my bones. I’m not just moving through life anymore; I’m actively shaping it.
As I cycle toward Teddy’s house, I think about what it means to take this leap.
I’ve spent so long trying to hold everything together, always afraid of what might happen if I let go.
But now, with my friends rallying around me and this new opportunity on the horizon, I feel like I’m stepping into a new chapter, one where I don’t have to do it all alone.
When I reach his house, I knock on the door, my heart racing in anticipation. The door swings open, and there he is, looking relaxed and effortlessly handsome, a smile spreading across his face as he sees me.
“Hey,” he greets, his voice warm.
“Hey!” I reply, unable to keep the excitement from bubbling in my tone.
“What’s got you all lit up?” he asks, stepping aside to let me in.
I walk into the living room, feeling the familiar comfort of his space wrap around me. “You’ll never guess what just happened!” I exclaim, practically bouncing on my feet.
Teddy raises an eyebrow, leaning against the wall, a playful smirk on his lips. “Try me.”
“I’m going to be writing for the town newspaper!” I burst out, unable to contain my joy.
His eyes widen in surprise. “Seriously? That’s amazing!”
“I know!” I say, practically glowing. “Mrs. Newberry offered me the chance to come in and review the contracts. And the girls are all on board to help out with the diner.”
He steps closer, his excitement palpable. “That’s incredible, Dannica. I knew you had it in you!”
I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me at his encouragement. “It feels like everything is finally coming together.”
“Of course it is. You’ve been putting in the work,” he says, his gaze steady and sincere. “You deserve this.”
I can feel the weight of his words sink in, and I take a breath, letting the moment settle. “Thank you for believing in me. It means more than you know.”
He reaches out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering. “Always.”
There’s a softness in his gaze that makes my heart flutter. I take a step closer, feeling the gravitational pull between us. “What about you? How was your day?”
“It was good,” he replies, his smile infectious. “I worked on some new shots for the gallery. But now that you’re here, I think I’ve found my muse.”
I laugh lightly, feeling a rush of warmth at the compliment. “Well, I’m glad I could inspire you.”
“You always do,” he says, his voice low and earnest.
As we settle into comfortable conversation, I share the details of my day, the anxiety, the surprise, the overwhelming support from my friends. Teddy listens intently, nodding along, and I can see the pride in his eyes.
“I can’t believe you’re actually going to run a newspaper,” he says, his tone teasing. “That’s pretty ambitious.”
I roll my eyes playfully. “Don’t make it sound like I’m starting a revolution or something.”
“Hey, you never know,” he counters, a grin on his face. “This could be the start of something huge.”
I lean back, considering his words. The thought sends a thrill through me. “Maybe it is.”
We continue talking, the conversation flowing effortlessly as the evening stretches on. I feel lighter, more alive, filled with a sense of purpose I haven’t felt in a long time. It’s as if each word we share is a brushstroke on a canvas, painting a picture of what could be.
Eventually, the conversation shifts to our creative processes. I find myself opening up about my writing, how it often feels like a battle between what I want to say and what I think others expect of me.
“It’s hard to find my voice sometimes,” I admit, my brow furrowing in thought. “I want to write something real, but I’m always worried about how it’ll be received.”
Teddy nods, understanding in his eyes. “I get that. But remember, your voice is unique. It’s what sets you apart. Don’t be afraid to let it shine.”
I smile, encouraged by his words. “Thanks, Teddy. I really appreciate it.”
As the night wears on, I realize just how easy it is to share my thoughts and feelings, to be vulnerable without fear. It’s a breath of fresh air, a reminder that I’m not just a collection of moments or expectations. I am more than that.
Eventually, we find ourselves sitting side by side on the couch, the dim light casting a warm glow around us. I can feel the energy shifting again, the air thick with unspoken words and possibilities.