Read Online The Life You've Imagined by Kristina Riggle - Free Book Online Page B

mouth is slightly open and she’s got a little crease between her brows.
    “What’s going on here?”
    Jack, the contractor, has continued his measuring and snapping of pictures.
    Paul holds up one finger with a smile on his face, like he’s going to show us something delightful, like a cuddly puppy or a birthday present. He grabs a big case off the floor and withdraws a rolled-up tube of paper. This he spreads out triumphantly on my front counter.
    It’s an architect’s drawing of what will no longer be my store.
    “It’s going to be beautiful. We’re going to have high-end lofts up here, and downstairs, right where we’re standing, is going to be a grocery. But not just any grocery! It will be upscale: imported cheese and wine, olive oils, ciabatta bread. It’ll serve the residents of the lofts upstairs and down the block, but of course in time we hope to attract the tourists from Chicago. And, of course, the business crowd who will stop in here on their way to their lakeshore homes.”
    Anna stares at me now, as Paul babbles on. I draw myself up tall, folding my arms. She asks, “So, you’re overhauling the store, Mom? This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
    Paul breaks off in mid-sentence, looking between Anna and me.
    “You know, we can finish this up another time. We’ll call you, Mrs. Geneva. Sorry for the intrusion. Jack? Let’s get out of their way now, okay?”
    Anna says again, “Mom?”
    I say nothing at all as Paul rolls up his dream and slips it back in the case. Jack nods to me on the way out.
    I clear my throat. “My lease is up,” I tell her. “End of August. They’re not letting me renew.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    “Well, that’s still up in the air a bit.”
    “Up in the air? Mom, that’s only a few weeks from now! What the hell?”
    “Watch your language.”
    “You’ve got no plan B at all? Where are you going to stay? Can you afford to move? How are you going to earn money without the store? Why can’t you stay and run this stupid yuppie grocery?”
    My head is starting to ache again, so many questions. “I can’t afford the rent. You wouldn’t believe what he wants to charge. I’ve got a little money to tide me over.”
    “Only a little?”
    “Quite a lot of it went out the window taking care of a child by myself for all those years, and don’t forget college!”
    “I paid most of that myself, and I am still paying off those loans and will be doing so until I die.” She shakes her head and touches her temple, now speaking more calmly. “I’ve always appreciated that, but it’s beside the point, Mom. I can help you financially and I will, but—”
    “Who says I need your help?”
    “You just said you have no place to live, no other job lined up, and only ‘a little’ money. Of course you need my help.” She waves her hand in the air at this and props it on her hip.
    “I can stay with Sally.”
    “In that shitbox trailer out in the sticks?”
    “It’s a roof! It’s just temporary!”
    “Isn’t that what Dad said about the Nee Nance?”
    I flop into the office chair, turning away from her hard gaze. She comes around the counter and crouches in front of me.
    “Mom. I’m just saying that your livelihood and place to live are going to be gone in a few weeks. You have to be thinking more than shacking up in Sally’s trailer. We need a long-term plan. We need to start applying for jobs, looking for places to live that you can afford. Worse comes to worst, you could come stay with me in Chicago, but you don’t want to do that, do you?”
    “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child. And what’s this ‘we’ business? ‘We’ don’t need to do anything. It’s my problem and I will solve it myself, which is why I never told you to begin with. I knew you’d get like this.”
    Anna stands up away from me now and folds her arms. “Get like what?”
    “Bossy. Patronizing.”
    “I’m just trying to take care of you. Someone’s got to.”
    I