Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It was a rare day that June didn’t have to be at one job or another at lunch time, and even rarer that such a thing occurred while Benjamin was safely off at school.
So, when the opportunity arose on Friday, she invited Cadence and Eleanor to lunch, as Diana was occupied in the store and Miriam was at one of her countless social obligations.
“Should we meet at the diner?” Cadence teased when June spoke to her on the phone.
“Oh my goodness, bite your tongue!” June laughed. The diner had good food, but eating there socially had lost some of its shine after June had started working there. “No, I’m calling it. Anchor Bistro. That’s where we’re going.”
“Anchor Bistro it is,” Cadence agreed. Eleanor too, was agreeable, so the trio gathered around noon for a much-needed break, chat, and meal.
“I need a Reuben,” June declared as she sat down. “I don’t know why, but I need it.”
“I know why,” Cadence said, flipping through her menu. “It’s because you’re a smart lady with good taste. I also want that.”
Eleanor tsked. “Oh fine, be super decisive and quick,” she jokingly complained.
“I’m going to do my usual thing and agonize over the choices on the menu until I twist myself up, thank you very much.
” She pointed at the menu. “Like this. Should I get the seared salmon over the mixed grain salad, or should I get the roasted vegetables with halloumi?”
Cadence covered her ears. “Stop saying delicious things! You’re going to ruin my decisiveness!”
“Not me,” June said. “I’m Reuben all the way. Stay strong, Cadence, you can do it.”
Eleanor teased Cadence by reading off various menu options, each more mouthwatering than the last, while June cheered her on about staying on “team Reuben” like she was a sports coach.
Eventually, Cadence shot a glare at each of them and compromised by getting half a sandwich with a cup of corn chowder on the side.
June stayed true to her original plan, while Eleanor eventually opted to bypass both of her original ideas.
Instead, she ordered a summer orzo with roast corn, blistered cherry tomatoes, and rich chunks of feta.
“Okay, so what’s new with everyone,” Eleanor asked after they’d done the appropriate oohing and aahing over their meals.
“Eleanor, you can’t mess with us like that,” June complained. “We have small kids. You remember how it is. There’s no ‘new.’ There’s just getting through the day.”
Despite her words, her tone was lighthearted. She knew that any complaints she shared with the other two, who were both moms themselves, would be taken in the spirit in which they were intended. They all loved their kids, even when they were making life extremely hectic.
“Well, there’s getting through the day right up until they decide suddenly everything is new,” Cadence pointed out, gesturing with her sandwich. “Favorite food? Suddenly canceled. Favorite game? Boring.”
“So what you’re saying,” Eleanor teased, “is that it’s mean to ask what is new if nothing is new and if everything is?”
“Yes,” June answered immediately.
“That’s correct,” Cadence confirmed.
Eleanor took a contented bite of her orzo.
“You know,” she said cheerfully, “sometimes I miss the ‘little kid’ days but sometimes it’s really nice to have a son who cooks his own dinner.”
“Hm, yes, he can’t reject your food if you don’t make it,” June agreed. “That’s solid logic.”
The three women all laughed.
June leaned back in her chair, enjoying her relaxation. Then, a poster tacked into the front window of the bistro caught her eye. It was an ad for the open mic night, the one that Miriam had mentioned at their last book club meeting.
Eleanor, too observant by half, caught sight of what June was looking at almost immediately.
“You should do it, you know,” she said, offering a gentle tap on June’s arm.
“Do what?” Cadence whipped her head around, then squinted at the poster. “Ooh, June, yes, you should.”
June put down her sandwich to cover her face with her hands.
“Ugh, I don’t know,” she said. She peeked at her friend through her fingers. “Do you remember when we used to go to karaoke together, Cade?”
“I do!” Cadence beamed. “Ellie, you should have heard her. She was so good. Like, so, so good.”
“We also did it as a sort of ‘moms night out,’ so Cadence might have had a drink or three that is coloring her recollection of my skill,” June pointed out pragmatically.
“Nice try,” Eleanor said. “I heard you sing in the diner. You’ll have to pull this modesty claptrap on someone else.”
Cadence looked extremely smug.
Not wishing to get embroiled in a losing battle, June sighed and went on.
“Well, I might have gotten started with this plan to take singing lessons,” she said.
“I just… I had so much fun singing that I wanted to see where I could go with it, you know? I’d taken music classes as all my electives in college, and I was a total theater geek in high school, so it was kind of like building on that passion. ”
“That makes sense,” Eleanor murmured encouragingly.
June gave a bittersweet sort of smile. “Yeah, but then we lost Keith and… well, everything that wasn’t Benjamin fell to the back burner.”
“That makes sense too,” Cadence added. “But June… it’s been two years.
And I’m not telling you that your grief has to have a timeline.
But in two years, you’ve come miles. And Benjamin is a good kid, a happy kid.
You did that. You both got dealt a really terrible hand, but you held your family together. ”
June had to press her hands to her face again, but this time it was because she was starting to tear up.
“My point,” Cadence continued kindly, “is that it’s okay to take time for yourself, June.”
June sighed, then took a contemplative bite of her sandwich while she thought this over.
“I know that,” she said when she was done chewing. “I know it in my brain. But my heart doesn’t always want to get on board. It just feels so…”
“Selfish?” Eleanor offered.
“Impractical?” Cadence supplied.
“Well, yeah,” June agreed.
The other two women exchanged a look.
“Yeah,” Eleanor said airily, inspecting her nails. “I can’t imagine what that would feel like at all. As a mother, I never once felt like I should be giving more to my kid than I already was. Sounds like a bummer.”
“Is that a thing?” Cadence asked in the same exaggerated tone. “Do parents sometimes feel like they should give two thousand percent to their children? I think I’ve heard that somewhere.”
“The two of you are hilarious,” June deadpanned.
“Would you like us to be sincere?” Cadence asked with alarming sweetness. “Because I would be happy to talk about how you are a wonderful mother who works hard all the time to provide for her son.”
“I could add that you’re a great friend on top of all those things Cadence just said,” Eleanor contributed.
“You rescued my hair, Junie,” Cadence said, pointing to where her perm was looking way less chaotic than it had before June had gotten her hands on it. “Don’t underestimate saving my hair and the overall effect that had on my quality of life.”
June let out a watery laugh.
Eleanor grabbed her hand. This time, there was nothing teasing in her sincerity.
“You’re not asking for the moon, June,” she said. “You’re looking to do something small and nice for yourself. You deserve that. Everyone deserves that, but especially you.”
“Okay, okay, you guys have worn me down,” June said. “I’m not saying that I’m definitely going to do it, but I am going to consider it.”
“But—” June stopped Cadence’s interruption with a look.
“It’s not because I think I don’t deserve it, or because I don’t know when I’ll find the time,” June clarified. “It’s more that this thing, this love I have for singing… it’s kind of tender and fragile right now. And Magnolia Shore isn’t the biggest town in the world.”
“By which I assume you mean everyone talks about everyone, and even if they do so mostly with love, it can be stressful and overbearing,” Cadence said, nodding in understanding.
She’d grown up in town. She knew how people around here could be even if, as Cadence had suggested, their motives were pure.
“Exactly,” June confirmed. “I’m going to consider it. I’m going to really, truly consider it. I promise. I just want to sit with it for a minute first. Make sure that I’m doing what I really want to be doing.”
Eleanor squeezed her arm again. “That’s all we ask for, honey. That’s the only thing we want for you.”
Eleanor double-checked her already triple-checked packet of papers, as if an essential form might have vanished between home and the Magnolia Shore town hall, even though everything was neatly paperclipped and held in a folder.
She wasn’t sure why she was so in her own head about this paperwork business, but she was, and there was no talking herself out of it, apparently, so she gave in to the compulsion to check one last time.
Everything was there, of course.
“You are being a ninny, Eleanor,” she told herself in the rearview mirror. She hoped that she would feel better about this ordeal once the paperwork was submitted, but she somehow doubted she would feel anything but nerves until she got official confirmation that all the legalities were set.
The town hall offices were in a building that had been one of the founding homes of Magnolia Shore, back in the colonial era, as the plaque outside informed her.
Indeed, the space inside had an almost homey feel.
The lights were set low and warm, rather than the blazing fluorescent lighting that Eleanor had come to expect from governmental offices.
The cozy wood paneling on the wall was echoed in the long, high counter that separated the front space, for visitors, from the rear workings of the office.
A small radio was tuned to a classical music station, which played softly, while a middle-aged woman hummed pleasantly along.
“Excuse me,” Eleanor said politely. “Am I in the right place to turn in my permit forms for remodeling a residential house into a commercial property?”
The woman made one last note on the paper in front of her before looking up with a smile.
“Indeed you are!” she confirmed brightly. “You already have the paperwork completed?”
“I do,” Eleanor said. One by one, she laid out the forms, including their extra copies, as some had needed to be filed in duplicate.
The administrator looked impressed. “Okay, well you’ve done the better part of my job for me,” she said with a laugh. “This all looks good. I’ll check everything over later today and call you if there’s something you need to come fix before it heads to the zoning committee.”
Her words sent a rush of relief through Eleanor.
Not only did the papers appear to be in order, but she’d have a chance to fix them if something was wrong!
This made logical sense now that the woman had said so, but Eleanor had been haunted by the idea of a red rejection stamp crashing down because she had misspelled something or not adequately filled out one of the check boxes.
“Okay,” Eleanor said with a huffed little laugh. “Amazing.”
The woman seemed to detect her worry and gave her a sympathetic smile.
“I can’t confirm anything,” she said conspiratorially, “but I will say that unless there’s a weird outstanding reason, like your house is a historic property or your proposed business is some kind of biohazard, the zoning committee generally comes back with an approval. ”
“Well, it’s just a bookstore, and nothing was disclosed about it being a historic property when I bought the place…”
The administrator smiled. “Then I’d say you have reason to be optimistic. Again, not a final confirmation until it goes before the committee, but just in case it helps you feel a little better.”
“It really does,” Eleanor said honestly. “Thank you so much.”
“Of course!”
Feeling much buoyed by this news, Eleanor headed back out to her car. As she opened the door to exit into the warm summer air, she came face to face with Winnie Burnett.
“Oh, excuse me!” Winnie said, surprised.
“Whoops, sorry Winnie,” Eleanor said.
Winnie’s face fixed into a somewhat forced-looking smile. “Oh, yes, Eleanor, how are you?” She peered over Eleanor’s shoulder, as if this would give her some information about what Eleanor had been doing inside. “All your paperwork in order for that bookshop project of yours?”
Eleanor wanted to bristle at the Winnie’s condescending tone, but something made her think that Winnie was perhaps not trying to be unkind. That didn’t necessarily erase the effect, Eleanor knew, but it was enough to remind her not to respond out of temper.
“I did,” she said instead. “Apparently I have cause to be optimistic.”
“Oh, good,” Winnie said. Eleanor wasn’t sure if the woman meant it or not.
Well, Winnie’s desire to stick her nose in town business would have to be someone else’s problem for a while. Eleanor was done with paperwork for the time being.
“I’m sure I’ll see you around, Winnie,” she said with as much warmth as she could muster, “but I really must get back to my renovations. Goodbye!”
And Eleanor sauntered off to do just that, pleased that there were no further disruptions on the horizon and that she could continue her renovation process in peace.