Chapter 21 #2
I stand over Ana’s workspace as they go to look at the store.
I’ve always worked alone, too, but I remember the days I would join Mom and sometimes Waipo in the lab, each of us tossing out thoughts or simply holding out a blotter or wrist in a silent request for opinions.
To me, Ana’s jewelry looks spectacular, but I can see what she means about how hard it is to work in isolation. It bothers me, too, sometimes.
Reaching out, I take a blotter and roll it between my fingers, frowning at the narrow cylinder when I’m done.
Mom comes back to sit at my perfumer’s organ without asking permission, her eyes flickering over it.
At least she won’t be able to find any issues here; the workspace is spotless.
A squirt bottle of alcohol sits near the neat collections of wipes, pipettes, and blotters.
Although she and Waipo preferred to organize their materials by note family, I work with a more curated collection, and alphabetical suits me.
Each small brown bottle is labeled with the date I created or bought it, the dilution, and the name.
The fire extinguisher is within easy reach.
There is nothing she can find fault with, but I brace myself for her criticism anyway.
None comes. She merely sniffs a few of the materials and nods. “Excellent,” she says.
“Thanks?” Is she fattening me up for the kill?
“The first thing we’ll do is create a scent for you to work with,” she says. “The same as if you had a real moli customer.”
“Speaking of, I’ve been away and I do actually have customers,” I say, grateful to have an out that can delay this, at least for a few hours. “Real ones. I have some commissions I need to finish.”
The one thing I’ll say about Mom is that she takes business seriously. Despite her intense need to get to the bottom of my moli puzzle, she stands up immediately. “I’ll explore the city while you work,” she says. “When I come back, we’ll talk.”
She’s a grown woman, and far more capable than I am, but I can’t help a twinge of unease as I watch from the store window as she walks down the street. There are so many things that could happen to her. Why I never worried about this before, I don’t know. All I know is that I’m worrying now.
Ana comes up beside me. “She’s not hanging around?”
“I told her I need to work.”
Ana looks amazed. “That was it? She didn’t tell you family comes first and work could wait?”
“Nope.”
“Wow, she should sit down and have coffee with my mom to share that perspective.”
“Don’t you think it would be weird if someone else’s mother was yours?” I say idly.
“Yes, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing she could be a little more like other ones, the same way she wishes I were a better daughter. Or any other daughter.” Before I can respond, she points at the window. “I didn’t tell you. Priscilla and Elvis are back together.”
“What happened?”
Her face lights up. “It was awesome. To set the scene, I was doing the window. Do you like it?”
“Very springlike.” It has a stuffed bunny offering a purse that looks like a carrot to another bunny.
Perfume bottles line the back like a fence.
I’ve already adjusted the bunnies so they’re more centered in the window, and although it’s a little twee for my liking, I don’t want to hurt Ana’s feelings by changing anything else.
“Elvis walks by. Then I see Priscilla go by a few minutes later. This happens a couple more times until they’re on the same side of the street.
I couldn’t hear them, but there was lots of staring at feet and I assume groveling, but from which of them, I don’t know. Then they started making out again.”
“Gross but emotionally satisfying.”
We putter around the store for a bit, me casting glances at Ana and trying to decide whether I want to suggest my jewelry-fragrance idea. Ana says, “Why don’t you just say it?”
“Say what?” I drop the broom with a clatter.
“Whatever it is you want to ask me.”
“How do you know I had something to ask?” I demand.
“I am an empath.”
“Shut up, you are not.”
“God, Lucy, you’re as easy to read as a Dr. Seuss book. You keep giving me these looks out of the corner of your eye like a Victorian housemaid wanting to ask for an extra hour off so you can meet up with the milkman.”
Only Ana would use such a weird analogy. I give in. “I had an idea.”
“Is it that we should install a huge wooden bear out in front of the store?” she asks eagerly.
“What? No. Why would you think that?”
“Oh. No reason! Spill.”
I do my best to not worry about whether I’m going to come into work one day and find a new decoration to deal with. “It’s for you, but you don’t need to take it.”
“Understood.” She waits another few seconds and then does a tick-tock motion with her hand to hurry me up.
Well, if she doesn’t like it, she doesn’t like it. My mom said it was cool. “I was looking at your drawings and your work.” I walk to the back and she trails behind me. “Those cherry earrings, for instance. If they were hollow, you could put in scent. Perfumed jewelry used to be very fashionable.”
Ana picks up a rose locket she’s crafted out of filigree. “How would it work, exactly?”
I point to the back. “You could add a small box or cage with a removable ceramic pellet that would absorb the scent. You can also sell the pellets along with the jewelry for top-ups when the scent fades.”
“I like it.” She nods. “I’m in.”
“In?”
“Yeah, obviously we’re going to collaborate on this.”
“We are?” That was fast.
“Don’t you want to?” I don’t need to see her hopeful expression to know that yes, I do want this.
“I might have a few ideas for scents,” I say.
She laughs. “I thought you might.”
“You really like it?” A relaxed feeling licks up from the depths of my chest.
“Love it, and more importantly, it’s unique. Stands out.” She puts down the duster. “I thought you were going to say you were moving back to Vancouver.”
“Why would you think that?” I’d never mentioned that as an option.
“I don’t know, you were being all mysterious and mopey! I thought it was bad news. This is great.” She looks over. “What gave you this idea?”
“I told you, looking at your drawings.”
She shakes her head. “A few months ago, there’s no way you’d be interested in a partnership. You’re the epitome of a lone wolf. The ultimate sigma female.”
“That theory on power dynamics has been totally debunked.”
“I don’t care and you know what I’m saying.” She runs her hand through her hair and swears when it gets caught thanks to the hair spray.
“I had an idea,” I say dismissively, not wanting a therapy session. “Nothing deeper.”
“Sure, Jan.”
I make a face at her and she makes one back.
I tap a sketch of an earring. “Behind the ears is a traditional place for women to put fragrance. What if we did a collection that’s all around the pulse points?
Earrings, a choker for the throat, and bracelets for the wrists. Everywhere a lover could smell it.”
“Don’t forget anklets.”
“Anklets?” I frown. “That’s not really one of the usual spots.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Trust me on this one.”
We go through the designs, and within half an hour, we have the basics. We’ll go simple and offer a choice of three fragrances: a light floral, a sexy amber, or a delicious gourmand, all of them gender neutral.
“They can also customize a fragrance,” I say. “For a price.”
Ana notes that down. “I love this.”
“Me too.” I beam at her, happy to be doing a project that gets me away from Mom’s moli focus and distracts me from Rafe. Something just for me, but with a partner. It’s nice.