Love/Fail

Chapter 12

Annoying Pinspiration Quote #12

"We are terrified to admit we gave it 100% and it wasn't enough."

Savannah greeted me with a hug on Tuesday afternoon, and I was so surprised, I hugged her back. "Hi!"

"Hey! It's good to see you! Come through!" She ushered me along the corridor, giving me time to observe her from behind. Normally Savannah was all sleek lines and hard edges, but today she wore soft pants in a baby blue that draped around her hips and ended in a cute hem at her ankles. Her white ballet flats teamed well with the white blouse with the lace cap sleeves, and her hair cascaded gently down her back.

"You look great today," I commented, once I was sitting in her office. "Younger, but in a good way. And is this chair new?"

She nodded happily. "We're changing over the furniture, to help people feel more comfortable. Do you like it?"

I let my fingers trail over the cool grey leather. The lounge chair was almost exactly the same as the set from Cody's living room, and for a moment I missed him so powerfully it sucked the blood from my veins and left me unable to more. "It's nice."

"How have you been, Mia? You seem really... relaxed?"

That made me laugh, an ungraceful snort snuffling out my nose. "Oh my god, I'm so far from relaxed, it's ridiculous."

Since Sunday, life had picked up so much momentum that although I'd never bungee jumped, I could imagine what the wait must feel like for the elastic to kick in. Dad had loved the idea when I pitched it to him, more so once I'd reassured him he could even keep his beloved pies. He and Rupert were so excited, they immediately took off for the hardware store to price supplies. They came home with a ton of stuff and began to dismantle shelves, discussing how to use the excess wood to create tables and bench seats.

Meanwhile, I was editing photos on my laptop, registering business names, calling city council for permits, comparing quotes on coffee machines and industrial dishwashers, all while manning the counter and explaining the changes to customers.

Once I'd relayed all of that to Savannah, she asked, "So, why do you look like a woman who's glowing?"

"Um..." I didn't know about glow, but I did blush at the thought of what Rupert and I were getting up to every night. Once the late evening shop renovations were done, we'd eat a quick dinner with Dad, then head back to Rupert's little house and spend hours and hours discovering each other in bed.

Savannah picked up on it. "Oh, wow. So, are musicians as good as they say with their fingers?"

"Better," I said, and a hysterical giggle escaped me. "But we don't need to talk about that. What I don't understand is how I can feel relatively calm about my life right now, when absolutely everything has the greatest potential to fail? Rupert is going to be gone in a few weeks, and the shop is draining my finances with no guarantee of return, and I still don't know what I'm doing with my career..."

"But you're coping." She said it as a fact. "You've matured in the last few weeks, Mia. You're taking chances and worrying less about the probability for failure."

"So, does that mean I'm all cured?"

"Not quite."

"Then what next?" I waited for her answer, not entirely sure I wanted to hear it.

Savannah laid a hand on my arm. "You have to actually fail. Not just in your hairstyle or something embarrassing, but in an area that means a lot to you."