Chapter 6 #2
I think of one of my favorite mantras. I have it on a Post-it note on my bathroom mirror. Progress, not perfection. It’s ironic that it’s my favorite, because usually, it’s perfection I’m chasing.
“That was when I knew I wanted to be an interior designer. I realized how important people’s homes were.
I wanted to create something beautiful and functional for them.
” Sadie turns to face me. “Emma, now that I’ve graduated, I’ve been thinking about something. An idea. Do you remember Dream Space?”
“Dream Space?” My breath catches. “I forgot all about that! Our business idea. I would organize people’s houses, and you would focus on the design. We even came up with a name.” I frown. “But we were just kids.”
“We can make it real, Emma. We can combine interior design and professional home organization. It’s the perfect time for a change for both of us.
Your job as an assistant was always meant to be temporary, not your long-term career.
You stayed for the money. But I’m finally graduating, and you got your business degree years ago.
You deserve to do something you love with your life.
You were born to be an organizer. For example, what do you do when you’re stressed? ”
“I reorganize my bookshelves,” I say immediately.
“And what do you do when you’re sad?”
“I don’t get sad.”
She snorts again.
“But if I have a slightly down day, I color coordinate my closet,” I say with a happy sigh, just thinking about how pretty all my clothes look in a rainbow of hues.
Actually, I don’t have that much color in my closet, but my blacks, navy blues, and whites look amazing together, with my skirts all hanging in a neat row. The shoes lined up by color and style.
“Exactly! And when you’re bored, you…”
“Reorder the pantry and spices,” we say together. I’m thankful she doesn’t mention the fact that I rarely cook, so I buy spices mostly because I like to see them all in a lovely row in special labeled jars on the rack.
Sadie’s eyes are shining. “It makes you happy to take things that are out of order and fix them, whether it’s items or schedules. I’m talking about reclaiming your wants, needs, desires, your purpose.”
“You’ve been listening to manifestation podcasts again, haven’t you?” I tease.
“Always.”
“Would you really want your own business? And to work with me? I thought you’d want to work for a design firm after graduating.”
“Are you kidding? It would be so much fun! And don’t look at me that way. I know it would be hard, but it would also be incredible.”
While I worry about managing the practical matters in life, helping Sadie through college, giving her a place to stay during her breaks, she worries that I work too hard. That I don’t allow enough time for joy. That I need to get laid more.
Lately, I very much fear she’s right.
I’ve put all my focus on getting Sadie through college. And now here she is, about to graduate. Even Sebastian is growing, changing. He’s finally settling down, dating Allegra.
And then there’s me. Stuck in the same routine. I’m not even the main act in my life. I spend all my time working, playing the part of a side character in someone else’s show.
My fingers are drumming on my leg restlessly.
“Are you itching to make a pro-and-con list?”
I laugh. “Maybe. But I have to admit, I had a similar thought recently. It’s based on something Evie Adelade said at Ryder and Daisy’s engagement party.
Daisy told Evie about how I helped her organize her fashion studio.
I created an inventory system for everything—her designs, the fabric, even all the little beads and buttons,” I say with a dreamy smile.
“What, like a spreadsheet for buttons?”
“Exactly like that. It was so fun! Anyway, Evie said she had a few friends who could use my skills if I ever took clients. She gave me their names.”
“This is what I’m talking about, Emma. It’s wild that you even know superstars like Evie Adelade and Ryder.
Evie’s a pop goddess. Ryder is the biggest rock star on the planet.
And Daisy’s the ultimate cool-girl fashion designer.
You have wicked contacts and a business degree you aren’t using.
This could really work,” she says with her characteristic enthusiasm.
“When I come back from my summer internship, we could launch a business together. I’m serious. ”
This is so typical of my sister, imagining we could make it happen, just like that.
But despite my caution, I can’t keep the wheels in my brain from turning.
Dream Space. I could focus on my favorite parts of a job.
I could organize a client’s home or business.
Build systems. And Sadie could create something as beautiful as it is functional.
It sounds challenging, but in the best way possible.
It would also be fun to work with my sister. She drives me crazy sometimes, but our strengths complement each other.
And it would feel like I was doing something meaningful. I like the idea that I could be a small part of someone’s transformation.
“You know,” I say slowly, “I’ve always wondered whether Aunt Grace would have spiraled so badly if she’d gotten help earlier.” My aunt became depressed after my uncle died. Everything started piling up, and she couldn’t dig herself out.
Obviously, her hoarding was a manifestation of her bigger, more complicated issues that required therapy and maybe medication. But giving people a fresh start, a clean break, a good foundation, could help them feel more in control. Happier. Better able to tackle life.
Sadie’s smile is gentle. “Once we’re established, we could take on pro bono clients—people who couldn’t ordinarily afford us. People like Aunt Grace, even, if they want the help.”
I watch her, scared to react, needing to think of all the angles before I show my excitement.
Sadie, in contrast, doesn’t need that time.
She’s ready to hang a proverbial shingle on a storefront.
Bless her, she’s all perky, optimistic sunshine, which is a balm for my more practical, overthinking soul.
“I understand—change is scary. But it can also be awesome,” she urges, her eyes sparkling. “Let’s face it. Your life’s destiny is to Marie Kondo the shit out of everyone. And mine is to make it all pretty.”
And that’s why I’m so unsettled. Because it’s true. Change is scary. When we were young, change usually meant devastation and disarray. Our mom dying. Our dad in an ever-revolving cycle of sobriety and addiction.
I’ve stayed stagnant for so long, needing control. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that change always comes, whether you want it to or not.
What do I have to lose besides a stable job?
A stable job with Sebastian.
It’s hard to even imagine anything different. He’s been the center of my life for so long. Anxiety ripples through me at the thought of losing that core. At not having him at the start of my every day and at the end of my every night.
Except… he’s moving on now as well. His friends have been settling down.
How much longer will it be before he makes that same leap?
And what will my place be when another woman has moved into the mansion?
Allegra or someone like her. Would I even still have my job?
Because I don’t know that any woman could keep herself from resenting the central place I hold in his life.
“It’s something to think about,” I hedge. “When the time is right.”
But deep inside, I know that change is already here. And I fear that if I don’t change as well, I’ll be left behind.