Read Online Paper Hearts by Courtney Walsh - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Courtney Walsh
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you fight or you die,” she said, wiping her lips with a napkin. “He never said, ‘Curl up in a ball and cry your eyes out.’”
Abigail again thought of Kelly. She was the kind of woman Ursula was talking about. And Abigail could say with complete certainty she was nothing like her. She shrugged. “I already lost the fight. What else can I do?”
Ursula set her plate on the coffee table with a clank and scooted forward in her armchair. “You can start by quitting the pity party. No one ever made it in business by feeling sorry for themselves, young lady.” She stood. “Get up.”
Abigail glanced at Gigi, whose horrified expression told her thiswasn’t customary behavior among the Volunteers. “Ursula, I don’t know if she’s in the right frame of mind for this.”
“You’re too soft, Gigi. Be quiet.” Ursula pulled Abigail away from the rest of them, into the open part of the living room. “Now, the way I see it, you can roll over and let this stranger push you out of your own store, or you can fight .”
“With what?”
“Figure it out.” Ursula tucked a lone gray flyaway behind her ear and narrowed her eyes at Abigail. “How can you force the man out of his own building? Indian burial ground? Asbestos?”
“Ursula!” Gigi gasped. “Abigail, don’t listen to her. She’s off her bean.”
Abigail shrank under the weight of Ursula’s gaze. “I’m not cut out for this, Mrs. Pembrooke.” Besides, neither of those things applied to her building.
“Nonsense. You just have to stop thinking like a polite little girl.”
Abigail frowned. “I am polite.”
“Exactly. But this is business.” She stared at Abigail, who only stared back. “Fight or die.”
Abigail started to glance toward the others for support when Ursula grabbed her by the chin and forced her eyes to focus. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Fight or die.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the others stand up. For a split second she felt like Rocky Balboa getting a prematch pep talk from Mick. Ursula clearly took her job as trainer quite seriously.
“Well?”
Abigail met the old woman’s gaze and complied. “Fight or die?”
Ursula practically melted into a puddle of disappointment. “No wonder you’re in this situation.” She turned away, though she did nothing to hide her disgust.
Abigail frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“There are a million things you could’ve done to prevent this from happening, but you didn’t think outside the box.” She tapped her temple with one crinkled hand. “You’ll never make it if you think like everyone else.”
Abigail’s mouth went dry at the disapproval. She’d been here before. A long-suppressed memory washed over her, and just like that she was standing in front of Jeremy, tuning out the words she’d dreaded for two years.
“I’m just not ready for marriage, Abigail,” he’d told her.
Teensy had cried when Abigail told her the news.
“Did he find someone else?” she’d asked.
Abigail shook her head.
“So it wasn’t that he was in love with someone else? He just wasn’t in love with you.” Teensy’s words still needled her to this day.
As if the shock of her broken heart weren’t enough, Abigail had disappointed her mother —again. At some point she’d convinced herself she’d never live up to Teensy’s standards and she’d stopped trying.
Sort of.
Now, with Ursula staring at her, that same disappointed look on her face, she realized maybe there was a part of her that would always want to make her mother proud.
“I’m sorry, Ursula. I just don’t see that I have any options.”
“You know what else Frankie told me?” Ursula stared at her as if waiting for a response.
Abigail slowly shook her head.
“No one really knows what they’re doing. But as long as they’re doing something, they’re getting somewhere. And that’s a whole lot better than sitting around.”
Abigail fought the urge to dart out of
Abigail again thought of Kelly. She was the kind of woman Ursula was talking about. And Abigail could say with complete certainty she was nothing like her. She shrugged. “I already lost the fight. What else can I do?”
Ursula set her plate on the coffee table with a clank and scooted forward in her armchair. “You can start by quitting the pity party. No one ever made it in business by feeling sorry for themselves, young lady.” She stood. “Get up.”
Abigail glanced at Gigi, whose horrified expression told her thiswasn’t customary behavior among the Volunteers. “Ursula, I don’t know if she’s in the right frame of mind for this.”
“You’re too soft, Gigi. Be quiet.” Ursula pulled Abigail away from the rest of them, into the open part of the living room. “Now, the way I see it, you can roll over and let this stranger push you out of your own store, or you can fight .”
“With what?”
“Figure it out.” Ursula tucked a lone gray flyaway behind her ear and narrowed her eyes at Abigail. “How can you force the man out of his own building? Indian burial ground? Asbestos?”
“Ursula!” Gigi gasped. “Abigail, don’t listen to her. She’s off her bean.”
Abigail shrank under the weight of Ursula’s gaze. “I’m not cut out for this, Mrs. Pembrooke.” Besides, neither of those things applied to her building.
“Nonsense. You just have to stop thinking like a polite little girl.”
Abigail frowned. “I am polite.”
“Exactly. But this is business.” She stared at Abigail, who only stared back. “Fight or die.”
Abigail started to glance toward the others for support when Ursula grabbed her by the chin and forced her eyes to focus. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Fight or die.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the others stand up. For a split second she felt like Rocky Balboa getting a prematch pep talk from Mick. Ursula clearly took her job as trainer quite seriously.
“Well?”
Abigail met the old woman’s gaze and complied. “Fight or die?”
Ursula practically melted into a puddle of disappointment. “No wonder you’re in this situation.” She turned away, though she did nothing to hide her disgust.
Abigail frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“There are a million things you could’ve done to prevent this from happening, but you didn’t think outside the box.” She tapped her temple with one crinkled hand. “You’ll never make it if you think like everyone else.”
Abigail’s mouth went dry at the disapproval. She’d been here before. A long-suppressed memory washed over her, and just like that she was standing in front of Jeremy, tuning out the words she’d dreaded for two years.
“I’m just not ready for marriage, Abigail,” he’d told her.
Teensy had cried when Abigail told her the news.
“Did he find someone else?” she’d asked.
Abigail shook her head.
“So it wasn’t that he was in love with someone else? He just wasn’t in love with you.” Teensy’s words still needled her to this day.
As if the shock of her broken heart weren’t enough, Abigail had disappointed her mother —again. At some point she’d convinced herself she’d never live up to Teensy’s standards and she’d stopped trying.
Sort of.
Now, with Ursula staring at her, that same disappointed look on her face, she realized maybe there was a part of her that would always want to make her mother proud.
“I’m sorry, Ursula. I just don’t see that I have any options.”
“You know what else Frankie told me?” Ursula stared at her as if waiting for a response.
Abigail slowly shook her head.
“No one really knows what they’re doing. But as long as they’re doing something, they’re getting somewhere. And that’s a whole lot better than sitting around.”
Abigail fought the urge to dart out of
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