“So tell me, what is it you are trying to do with this project?”
“I’m trying to get my masters’ degree.”
“Oh, how nice!” she said. “And you want to be a business owner?”
I went to answer, then stopped for a moment. I’d hatched the grand plan of me working for my father and becoming a financial analyst a long time ago. But things had changed.
“Honestly, I’ve never considered owning my own business. I’ve always wanted to be a part of a business, though. Help people succeed and make smart choices with their money and investing.”
“That sounds great,” Bea said. “A lot of people need help being smart with their money.” She winked at me. “I may have you take over my books!”
I was pretty sure she was kidding, but her jolly demeanor paired with a serious expression made me pause.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to come up with a response because she turned to Cal and said, “This girl is a smart one,” Bea snapped her fingers to her nephew, then pointed at me as if he wasn’t sitting right there and knew who she was talking about. Still, I was blushing a little more. I
’d never been praised really or called smart. With my dad, it was how I was lacking, how I needed to do more to keep up with Brock.
“She’s very smart,” Cal agreed.
And the blush went to DEFCON-Rudolph-Red.
“I want to hear more about you, Lana. How does your project relate to my cleaning business, and do you like cranberry sauce?” she asked, resting her hand on her cheek and looking at me with so much delight I thought she was seeing some magical fairy instead of a regular human.
Those were two wildly different questions, but she just waited, like they went together easily. So I tackled the first question.
“I’m actually going to apply my thesis to your business and experience and do a mock up analysis.”
“Oh! Sounds fun. What does that mean?”
“It’s just some possible financial options and strategies for investments based on your hypothetical needs and interests. Then I present that to my advisor.”
“And then your advisor gives you your masters’?”
“She has to approve it and take it to a thesis board.”
“Good Lord,” Bea said. “I’m exhausted just listening to all these steps. You should be proud of yourself for going so far with this. It’s really special, Lana. That’s very impressive.”
I blinked rapidly because there was a weird sting that crept up behind my eyes suddenly.
I shrugged. “It sounds more complicated than it is.”
“No, she’s impressive,” Cal cut in, telling his aunt exactly what he thought. “Dedicated and thoughtful and grounded.”
“Another word for boring,” I joked.
“Well, whatever the title is, you need more of Lana in your life,” Bea said to Cal. “I’ve never been able to get this one to sit in one place for long. Always searching for something to terrify me.”
“Ah, here we go with the guilt,” Cal grumbled.
“Not guilt. I just would like you to live a long and happy life…preferably not tossing yourself into a fire like damn pizza.”
Aunt Bea was brassy, and I could see where she and Cal were similar. She was kind and sweet, but didn’t pause at telling you what she thought. I thought about the place Cal took me to on Halloween. The fire he almost didn’t make it out of. Poor Bea must have been worried. In Cal’s line of work, I couldn’t imagine that was his only brush with death or injury.
“I tried to get him to be one of those nice gentlemen that go around town in those little cars and makes sure all the fire zones are clear,” Bea continued.
“That’s parking patrol,” Cal said with a sigh, like he’d heard this a million times before.
“It’s safe, and you still work with fire of sorts.”