Page 41 of We Thought We Knew It All
“No, Kat. Ally’s was Mom’s place, her dream. If there’s one thing I learned writing about her, it’s that I need to forge my own path. She can be a part of it, but she can’t be the reason for it anymore.”
Tears hung at the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall.
“No,” I said. “Today isn’t sad. Come on. Let me show you what I have planned. The work crews start tomorrow, but it shouldn’t take long.”
Kat and I stayed all morning, pouring over drawings I’d done and making purchase lists. We were sitting at the counter when Ana walked in. She waved and grinned. “Hi, fellow Florida native.”
“Hey, Ana.” I laughed. “Surprised to see you here since this officially isn’t your brother’s place anymore.”
“I had a feeling you’d go for it.” She slapped a folder down on the counter.
“What’s this?” Kat asked.
“Ana.” I motioned to my aunt. “This is Kat.”
“Since my brother is heading North, he has a ton of stuff we just cleared out of here that he needs to get rid of. I told him we were friends, so I’d bring it.”
I grinned at her presumption, finding myself wanting to be friends with her.
Kat scanned the lists, comparing it to the ones we’d been making to see what we could use.
“He’ll offer the best price you can get,” Ana said. “It’s all high end, relatively new kitchen gear and you have an entire kitchen you need to stock.”
“This sure makes things easier,” I said.
“We’ll want to see it to check the quality before handing over any money.” Kat looked up.
“Of course,” Ana agreed. “I can meet you at the storage container around three.”
“That won’t work for me.” I looked to Kat. “I have to get the boys.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you have a chef yet?” Ana asked.
“That’s high on my agenda.”
“The boathouse had an excellent chef who is now looking for work. I’ll send him to cook you lunch here tomorrow and if you hire him, he’ll help with hiring the rest of the kitchen staff.”
“Ana,” I said. “You’re a godsend.”
She shrugged. “I want to see this place succeed. Plus, I’m expecting all your printing business.”
“You’ve got it.”
“Good. I’ll tell Jasper to be here tomorrow at eleven.” She turned to Kat. “Meet me at Space Saving Storage at three. Unit 909.”
“Well,” Kat said after she left. “I guess we’re full steam ahead.”
“Here we go.”
* * *
I spentthe afternoon with my nose in my computer, writing away. The story came easier thanEmmahad because I’d lived it, rather than just heard about it. I wasn’t writing about my mom this time. I was writing about me.
It wasn’t as painful as I’d been expecting. I was making great progress. It’d taken me years to write my first book and my second would be done in about six weeks.
