I Wish (31 page)

One dollar per wish. “Deal.”

She bit her lip, surprised at how easily I gave in. She counted out the bills and pushed them toward me.

I opened the lid one last time. I longed to say something to Grant. A speech of gratitude. Of love. I touched the tiny ice skating couple, Norah and Charles. Deep from within the box, four notes of “Silent Night” tinkled. “I already miss you,” I said.

Grief rushed up from my gut, threatening to overwhelm me. I couldn’t stay there a moment longer. Snatching the money, I crumpled it in a fist as I ran down the aisle. When I reached the refreshments section, I threw down two dollars, grabbed a lemonade, and found an empty wooden bench under a sad pine.

It was there Eli found me.

“Want a sip?” I asked. There was a millimeter of lemonade at the bottom of the cup.

He smiled, shook his head, and dropped onto the bench beside me. Silently, we watched people pass for a few minutes. Moms with strollers. Old men pulling wagons with their newly purchased junk.

“I apologize for taking so long, Eli.”

“Not a problem.” He picked up a pine needle and twirled it between his fingers. “I’m worried about you.”

That got my attention. “Why?”

“Henry told me that you want to go to William & Mary, but you’ve decided not to apply.”

My head ached at the news. “Did he share any theories about the reason?”

“He did.” Eli flicked the pine needle onto the dusty path and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “He knows it’s not money. He says your dad left you enough to go to college.”

My lips twitched into a half-smile. “Right so far.”

“He thinks you’re going to Magnolia Community College because you’d be too homesick anywhere else.”

Why was my eight-year-old brother worrying about stuff like this? “That’s close enough.”

Eli pushed off the bench and looked at me, face mildly curious. “You know what I think?”

I frowned. “No.”

“I think you’re afraid that your family might fall apart without you.” He held out a hand and helped me up, but he didn’t let go right away. Instead, he pulled me into his arms for a gentle hug. “Your brother is sad that he can’t help you more than he does.”

I groaned.
No, no, no
. He was just a little boy. He ought to be playing and laughing and leaving crap like this up to the adults. “I don’t want him worrying about me,” I whispered.

Eli’s arms tightened. “Find a way to let him help you. He needs that.”

I closed my eyes. Henry was too young. What could he do?

Wait. He was a smart little kid. Really smart. Maybe
he
would know what he could do.

Yeah. I’d try to talk to him tonight, if he’d let me. If he’d stopped viewing me as the villain who banished Grant. Henry would have ideas. This might be good.

F
or the third time this week, I was going to the flea market, except today I had something to sell. Twenty-three pairs of adorable shoes.

I was keeping my favorite pair. It had a place of honor on my keepsake shelf.

Without Grant around, my confidence sagged. What if I priced them too high? What if I had the wrong sizes?

What if no one liked them?

I came out of the studio with a plastic tub of shoes and my backpack. Mom and Henry stood at the curb, waiting for a ride to the game with the Samms.

Henry ran over and looked in the box. “What’re you going to do with all the money?”

I smiled at the top of his head. My confidence bloomed. “Buy a new tire for the car.”

“Cool. I get tired of asking for rides.”

“Sorry about that, little man. It’ll get better. I’m going to buy even more shoes and make even more money.”

“Pure economics,” he said with the air of a seasoned businessman.

I decided I must not laugh. “The more capital I have, the more I can increase production.”

“So true.” He nodded wisely. “Will yours be as good as Grant’s?”

“Yes, Henry. They will.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The Samms’ minivan rolled around the corner and pulled to a stop. Before my family had settled inside, an SUV stopped behind them.

Mrs. Rey waved me into the front. “Kimberley forgot to set her alarm and overslept, so she stayed home.”

“That’s fine.” I set the tub on the backseat and buckled myself in to the front. “Thank you for taking me.”

“I don’t mind.” She gave me a smile as she pulled away. “Did you bring a card table to set up?”

“No. The empty stalls have their own tables.”

“Just in case, I threw an old toddler table in the back with a couple of little chairs.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Rey.”

“Teresa.” She reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze.

When we arrived, I discovered that, in planning this business opportunity, there was one detail I’d overlooked—the flea market bureaucracy. They had rules about vendors—the most critical being
Stall Rental
.

The security guard stopped us at the gate. “Fifty bucks a day.”

“I don’t have fifty bucks.”

“So we’re done talking here.” He slouched on his stool and resumed picking at his beard.

Teresa pulled me aside. “I’ll loan you the fifty bucks.”

I stared into the tub at the lovely shoes, torn about accepting her offer. The decision didn’t take long. I’d learned to hate debt over the past year, and I intended to stay away from it for good. “No, I’ll figure something else out. You go on. I appreciate the ride.”

She gave me a hug and strode across the asphalt to her car. I watched idly, not thinking, hoping inspiration would spring into the vacuum of my brain.

Customers streamed in steadily. There was a good crowd this morning, and it was a perfect day for shopping. Not too hot. Puffy clouds. No signs of imminent rain.

My gaze fell on a scraggly tree, complete with a picnic table, garbage can, and tiny pool of shade. It was one hundred feet or so from the entrance, and out of view of the security guard but visible to shoppers if they turned their heads.

I’d found my free stall.

After selecting the six shiniest pairs, I turned the tub upside down, set up my display in the shade, posted my sign, and waited.

For the first half hour, people merely glanced my way as they walked by.

In the second half hour, I waved. Shoppers waved back and kept going.

As the morning progressed with not even a glimmer of interest, the knot in my stomach tightened. What had gone wrong? This should’ve been a slam dunk. I’d invested our entire emergency fund in this project. I hadn’t expected such an epic failure.

Another hour had passed when I spotted my brother running in from the parking lot. “Henry!” I called.

He detoured smoothly in my direction, happy and sweaty and full of energy. Eli followed more slowly, his limp almost unnoticeable.

“Lacey, wow. Do you only have six pairs left?” Henry shouted.

My smile wavered. “I have twenty-three pairs left.”

He frowned. “You haven’t sold
any
?”

“No.” It was sickening to admit it.

“It’s because you have a bad location, Lacey. You have to go where the customers are. Why aren’t you inside?”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “The overhead is too expensive.”

Henry flung himself onto the top of the picnic table and posed like
The Thinker
. Eli crossed to my side, fighting a smile.

“Did they win?” I asked.

Eli nodded. “We’re undefeated. It was an awesome game.”

“Sorry I missed it.” Surprising but true. Even though I hadn’t learned to love soccer, I did love watching my brother win.

“Hey,” Eli said, touching me lightly on the arm, “have you had a break?”

I shook my head.

“Here,” he said, pulling a ten-dollar bill from his wallet. “I promised Henry a drink. Why don’t you take a quick break and buy us two bottles of Gatorade? We can handle the shoes until you get back.”

This was an easy offer to accept. I grabbed the cash and walked into the flea market. First stop, the nasty bathrooms. Second stop, the refreshments stand. As I headed back toward the entrance, I wandered past Madame Noir’s table. “Morning.”

“Morning, Lacey. How are you?” Madame fanned herself in spite of the mild weather.

“Good.” I scanned her tables. There was no sign of the music box. “Hey, what happened—?”

“I sold it. Same day you brought it in.” She bared her teeth in a gleeful grin. “Nice profit too.”

“Lucky you.” I hurried away, so fast she couldn’t see the sudden tears blinding me. At the next corner, I whipped behind a brick wall and collapsed against it, falling to my knees, withering under the knowledge. Pain throbbed in my skull and crushed my chest. Why had I asked her?

Somewhere out there, someone had Grant. Were they treating him well? Did he hate me?

What was I doing here, crying behind a wall? I needed to get myself under control.

My month with Grant had been wonderful. Not at first, of course, while we were getting to know each other. Our trust had taken time to build. But once it had, I’d loved it. I’d counted on having someone to lean on and share my problems with. I’d enjoyed his humor, his logic, even his prickly way of standing up for himself. I loved being cared for, not having to remember all the details, believing that everything would work out because he was there. Grant had been my rock until I sent him away. I hadn’t stopped falling since.

I reached instinctively for my wrist and felt reassured by the cool links of my copper bracelet. But I didn’t look down. This should’ve been Grant’s final day. I didn’t wish to see that the tattoo was gone.

Slowly I stood, head swimming. I held onto the wall until the world stopped wobbling. I’d been gone from my makeshift stall long enough. Fortunately, I hadn’t bothered with makeup this morning. I dabbed at my face with the hem of my shirt, released my hair from its braid, and walked purposefully to the entrance.

Something major had changed in my absence.

Eli stood with Sara Tucker in the shade, laughing at my brother.

Henry danced around in a circle, pumping his arms and chanting, “I’m the man.”

“What happened?” I asked, joining Eli and Sara.

Eli pointed at Henry. “He made your first sale.”

“Really?” I gaped at my brother.

He stopped his dance long enough to wave two twenty-dollar bills in my face. “I’m the man.”

“I guess you are.”

Sara smiled. “You missed it, Lacey. Your brother is an amazing salesman.”

I shook my head, trying to clear the dizzy excitement of our first sale. “How did you do it?”

“One word.” Henry held up his index finger. “Grandparents.”

“Grandparents?” I repeated.

“Yeah. They’re our target market.” He slapped the twenties onto my palm and gave me a patient look of supremacy. “Grandparents love to spoil their grandkids, and they have plenty of money. It’s a perfect match for dorky shoes.”

I was speechless, possibly for the first time in my life. I looked from Henry to the other two and could think of nothing to say.

“You should’ve been here,” Eli said. “An older couple walked by with three-year-old twins. Henry ran over to them and dragged them over. He sold a boy pair and a girl pair.”

“You’re the man,” I said.

Henry fist-bumped with me. “I knew that.” He launched into his victory dance again.

Dazed, I turned to Eli and Sara. Both were shaking with laughter. It rubbed off on me.

When we calmed down, I smiled at Sara, and she smiled back. That was a good sign. It might be an okay time to show polite interest. “Why are you at the flea market?”

“Buying trip,” she said, inclining her head toward the entrance. “I’m on the hunt for items to sell at Mom’s consignment shop.”

“How’s the shop going?”

“Great. Mostly, we have nosy people trying to satisfy their curiosity about my parents, but we don’t care as long as they walk out with a shopping bag.” She pointed at my display of shoes. “I love this idea. Would you consider featuring some in our shop?”

“Sure.” Her request swirled around me like a cleansing breeze. This hardly made us friends again—too much needed to be worked out—but it was movement in the right direction. “How soon and how many?”

“Twenty girl pairs. Ten boy.”

“So many for boys?”

“Yeah. You should’ve seen that little kid’s face when he saw the trains on his shoes.” She got out her phone and tapped away. “We have our grand-opening celebration in a couple of weeks. Could you be ready then?”

“Sure.”

“Good. Are you open to custom orders?”

“Maybe.”

She tapped a half-dozen keys and then slipped the phone back into her pocket. “Cool. We’ll talk more soon.” After a quick wave at Eli and a fistbump with Henry, she merged into the flea-market crowd.

Eli checked his watch. “I’ve got some errands to run, but I could swing back by here around five if you want a ride.”

My mouth opened to refuse the offer. “That would be nice.”

He frowned at me in mock surprise. “What just happened? Lacey Linden actually accepted help without arguing?”

I exhaled noisily. That didn’t deserve a response.

He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Can I take you and Henry to The Backyard Grill for dinner?”

“You can.” The more I said
yes
, the easier it got.

“Great.” He sauntered away and then paused, looking over his shoulder. “Just to be clear. It’s my treat.”

“So noted.”