“She’s just making sure you’re okay. Your health is important.”
“I know, I know. I just don’t want to talk about it all the time. The other kids are going to think I’m weird or something.”
“You? Weird?” Sarah asked with mock enthusiasm. “No!”
“Mom!”
As their laughter died down, they drove in silence a little ways, Sarah humming to the radio. “So I heard something about you yesterday,” Grace said.
Sarah looked at her suspiciously, wondering what the sly look was all about. “And what’s that?”
“That you’re going on a date tomorrow night. A second date with the same man.”
“You heard this from your no-good grandmother who can’t keep a secret from a pesky little girl?”
“That’s the one.” Grace seemed to enjoy the turn the teasing had taken. “So do you loooove him?” She made kissing sounds. “Will there be a wedding?”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “No. But he is a nice man, and I’d like to get to know him better. His name is James.” Joking aside, Sarah could’ve strangled her mother for passing on this information to Grace. Sure, she was eager for Sarah to find a man and settle down, but it was way too early to involve Grace. Her mother should know better.
“Well, don’t put all your eggs in one basket,” Grace said seriously.
“Where on earth have we picked up this new phrase?” Sarah wasn’t exactly surprised. Grace often picked up mannerisms and vocabulary that she’d clearly pilfered from someone she looked up to.
“Miss Kathy.”
“Miss Kathy, of course. Well, I’ll try not to put all my eggs in one basket if you try to behave yourself today and be the nicest camper this place’s ever seen.” Sarah put the car in park and leaned into the kiss Grace placed on her cheek. “And don’t forget to take it easy. If you feel tired or overrun, be sure to tell Miss Kathy right away and sit down. Remember what Dr. Robles said.”
“I will. I promise. Bye, Mama!” Sarah waited until a camp counselor retrieved Grace before pulling away from the curb and heading to the house on Banning Street.
She spent most of the day in the main living room and two guest rooms, cataloguing everything as she went. She’d taken a brief lunch break, eating the sandwich she’d brought with her, before plowing ahead, intent on finishing this project in a timely manner if it killed her. With headphones in her ears as she worked, she about jumped out of her skin when she turned around and saw Emory leaning casually in the doorway of the guest room she was working in, her hip kicked out, her shoulder holding her in place. With a hand to her racing heart, Sarah stood slowly, pulling the headphones from her ears. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Clearly.” A small smile graced Emory’s lips. “It’s after five and you’ve, again, done an enormous amount of work.” Emory produced two very enticing open bottles of Dos Equis. She dangled the sweaty, sure-to-be-refreshing bottles in front of Sarah and then teasingly backed away, her retreating form enough to garner a laugh from Sarah who only waited a beat before washing her hands and following.
She found Emory on the deck, this time positioned on a cushioned chaise lounge, her long, tanned legs laid out in front of her. She wore athletic attire today, and the shorts she’d selected certainly complimented her toned physique. Sarah scooped up the beer Emory left on the small table for her and took up residence in the chair next to Emory’s. “So how was your long day at the office?”
Emory sighed. “Murder. But there’s hope on the horizon in the form of some big rollouts that could mean more business in the long run. We need to start interviewing new PR firms to handle our streaming video product launch.”
“We?”
“I guess that would be Lucy and me, and the other account executives to a lesser extent. Lucy is my VP and has been with me since the company’s inception. We also have kind of a history.” She squinted her eyes sheepishly.
“You grew up together?” Sarah immediately thought of the deep history she had with Carmen.
“Not exactly. She’s my ex. We lived together for two years.”
“Oh.” Sarah let the comment land. She knew Emory was gay; she’d said as much the night before, but the idea of Emory with another woman was still surprising to her…and intriguing at the same time. She’d never had a lesbian friend. This was new territory.
“It’s nice that you’re able to still have a working relationship,” Sarah offered politely. She took a drink of her beer.
“That’s kind of the point. We’re both workaholics, and eventually, I realized I was dating myself. Our relationship became one of convenience, and we rarely did anything but talk about the office. I did learn a valuable lesson, however. I suck at relationships and should avoid them at all costs. Over time, we both came to the understanding that we’d make better friends anyway. Since then, our relationship has only grown stronger. It was the right move.”
“Wow,” Sarah replied. “That’s a very mature way of handling it. When my friends break up, you can generally expect a lot of shouting and crying, sometimes in the street. Maybe it’s cultural.”
“Trust me, it’s not. The lesbian community is nothing if not dramatic. Ours was an ideal breakup, though. We just kind of shifted into new roles and it worked.” Emory stared at the label on her beer, wondering why she was again divulging so many intimate details of her life. She’d wanted to see Sarah for a purpose, and another conversation full of personal confessions had not been on the books. Emory delicately changed the subject. “So I was thinking a little more about what you were telling me, about your business aspirations.”
“Okay,” Sarah answered tentatively.
“And I don’t know if this is overstepping my bounds, but I might be able to help.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, I was thinking about what you told me about Immaculate Home. You want to grow the company and you mentioned several new ideas. Can you offer me an example?”
“Um, sure.” Sarah didn’t miss a beat. “We’ve been cleaning homes in the San Diego area for more than twenty years. Not long ago, we began receiving calls, similar to this one, for home organization, either for a move or a death in the family. What I’d like to see happen, is for us to go one better and open up a separate branch of the company for home management, reorganization, custom closets, custom storage space, the works. We could hire a designer and subcontract with several of the construction companies in the area. The way I see it, we can start transforming space within our existing clients’ homes so their lives are less cluttered, more manageable. Once they’re sold, word of mouth should bring in more business. There’s a real market in our area for this. Our clients would eat it up. I know they would.”
Emory had to admit, she was impressed with the pitch, or at least the manner in which it was articulated. Sarah spoke with such passion, such spark, that she believed whole-heartedly that she’d find a way to succeed with the new venture. “That’s where I come in. Let me send a press release or two over the wire once you’re ready to offer the new services. All it takes is one feature editor to pick up the story of the little company that could, and you’ll have more business than you know what to do with.”
“Oh, well, I’d have to take a look at our budget. It’s possible, but it would depend on what the upstart would—”
“No charge. I’m willing to donate our services temporarily. If it works out and you decide you’d like to continue, which I feel strongly you will, we can set up a formal account and you can become a full-fledged client.”
Sarah’s eyebrows rose and she seemed to let the full weight of Emory’s offer settle in before finally speaking. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever offered to do for me, but I’m sorry, I can’t accept. It’s too generous.”