Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
My dreams were in the gutter.
My relationship with my father was shattered.
But at least I had Ash.
“We’ll get through this, Mia,” he told me soothingly. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I know,” I lied.
“We can do this together.”
That, at least, I believed.
27
Charleston
Present
Mom parked in front of my house. Ash reached for the handle of my suitcase and carried it down the stairs.
“You’re not going to convince me to stay?” I asked when he reached me at the bottom of the stairs.
He shot me a curious look. “Why? I’ll be there this weekend.”
“Yeah, but …”
He set the suitcase down and pulled me close to him. “You want to do this. You need to do this. I will support you in every way I can as long as it means, at the end of the day, you’re mine.” He paused a heartbeat and then asked, “You’re mine?”
I nodded. “Of course I am.”
“Then, go to Charleston. Find your passion again. I’ll miss coming home to you every day, but I’m not holding you back.”
“Okay,” I whispered and then flung my arms around his neck. “Every weekend?”
“Every weekend,” he confirmed. “As long as you’ll have me.”
“Get in the car already!” Marina shouted from the parked car.
I laughed and hefted my backpack onto my shoulder. Daron jumped out of the back and opened the trunk for my suitcase, which barely fit in my mom’s car with everyone else’s stuff. Tye grumbled something about how we were all going to be squished together, but Marina elbowed him and told him to shut up.
“You ready, honey?” Mom asked.
“Yeah. You’re sure it’s okay I come and stay for a while?”
Marina had offered her place, but Mom’s house was on the water, and I felt like I needed that. My old room that I used to stay in when I visited as a kid. It would feel like old times.
“I’m sure,” Mom said. “It’ll be great to have you.”
“Then, I’m ready.”
I threw my arms around Ash again, and he kissed me for an embarrassingly long time. Long enough that my cousins started to make fun of us. I pulled away with a laugh.
“I’ll see you soon,” I told him.
“Not soon enough.”
Then, I was in the passenger seat of the car, and we were pulling away from Savannah. Sasha was handling the store while I was gone. Kathy had promised to help wherever she was needed. And I was going to spend the time in Charleston figuring out my next move.
The two-hour drive felt like I was driving away from my entire life. I thought that feeling would go away when I got into Charleston, but it lingered. My cousins hugged me and headed out, promising to hang out. Then, I was back in my childhood room, staring out at the water.
Time seemed to pass in a haze of spending time on the water, weekends with Ash, and wandering the city that I loved. I wanted to find a new place to have a shop, but I didn’t even know what I was looking for. And in realizing that I didn’t know what I wanted, I investigated what I actually wanted rather than just what might fall easily into my lap. And I didn’t find it.
Mom came outside after I’d been there a few weeks. I was sitting on the Adirondack chair with a sketch pad in my hand. She set down a glass of sweet tea for me.
“How’s it going?”
“Well … it’s going.”
She smiled as she sank down next to me. “I love seeing you with a sketchbook in your hand. It reminds me of when you were a kid and designed clothes for your Barbies.”
I laughed. “I forgot about that.”
“Yeah. They were terrible, but everyone starts somewhere. I think you got the idea from me painting. You started asking for art supplies after you stumbled into my studio.”
“I don’t remember that. Well, I remember your studio, but not the rest.”
“It was the cutest. Do you know how often I went to the art store and the fabric store for you?”
“I suspect a lot.”
She nodded. “Every weekend. Your dad would always be like, ‘We don’t need more scraps of fabric,’ but I couldn’t help it. Do you remember your first sewing machine?”
“The one from the attic?”
“Yep. Your grandmother’s. You cried when I said you could use it if you were careful.”
“I did?” I asked in a whisper.
“And when I bought you a new fancy one, you actually got mad at me.”
I set down the designs I’d been working on. “I remember that. I was attached to the old one. I still have it in my house and use it.”
“Your grandmother would love to hear that.”
“I bet she would.”
Grandma had died when I was young. I had basically no memories of her, but I had her sewing machine, and that had sustained my young heart.