“Well … okay … wow. In every way possible? Does that mean—”
“You know what I mean.”
Amie sniggered. “No. I don’t completely know what you mean. I think further explanation is needed. But we’ll sort out those details later. For now, I’m your person. I will get sick and save Christmas for Smith’s.”
“Don’t sound so dramatic. You don’t actually have to get sick.”
“To sell it … I do. I have to get sick.”
In spite of my brewing anger at the situation, I chuckled. “You can make yourself get sick?”
“Yes. I have some emetic herbs. Harmless, but they will cause vomiting. I’ll head to his store, browse around, sample a little bit of everything and … boom! I’ll get sick. In his store. It’s genius really. It won’t be a minor rumor that I got sick from something at his store. There will be the visual for everyone there. Cameras. Social media. He’ll be out of business by the end of the week.”
Her plan cinched the already tight knot in my stomach. “I don’t know …”
“Elsie! You can’t say that. If you weren’t letting him screw you in very naughty ways, would you be thinking twice about this plan?”
Yes. I would have had many second thoughts about her plan. I wasn’t vindictive by nature. I wasn’t out to destroy anyone.
I was …
Desperate.
Scared.
Drowning.
“We never had this conversation.” I ended the call and hugged my phone to my chest as I closed my eyes. Being mean made me feel physically ill. I felt it after I completely unloaded on Craig the day he died.
“Two,” Linc opened the door to the back room. “We have two customers. Old people, of course, because everyone under sixty is across the street visiting Santa and buying products that don’t have a gazillion preservatives.”
My jaw relaxed to say something. Something about bad luck, bad timing, and Karma. Then his words caught up to me. “You think our store is outdated?”
“Don’t you? And don’t lie. We know you don’t eat anything from here. Even when products get close to expiring, you give them to neighbors, but Dad ate them. Sometimes, he’d live off beef sticks, spreadable cheddar, and popcorn for weeks because he refused to let things go to waste.”
I nodded slowly. “So would Grandma and Papa Smith.”
“And so would most of Epperly. But even before Dad died, things weren’t doing quite as well. Not with online shopping. So it’s not simply a product issue, and you know it.”
We weren’t giving the residents of Epperly a reason to get out of their recliners and go to an actual brick and mortar store. Except for that time of year when people wanted pictures with Santa.
Or cooking classes.
Or sexy new guys with killer smiles.
Or a shit ton of free samples of stuff they’d never tried before.
“So what’s the solution?”
Linc shrugged. “Depends. Do you want to keep the store?”
No.
“I’m not sure. I feel like I should.”
“Why? For Grandma and Papa? For Dad?”
“Maybe,” I whispered.
“You don’t need the money. I mean … Dad had really good life insurance. Great investments. The house is paid off. You could get a job if you wanted to do something else for some extra money. You could move to Arizona. Bella graduates in the spring. What’s keeping you in Epperly?”
“Your grandparents.” Craig’s closest sibling was a twelve-hour drive from Epperly.
“Should they really be your responsibility?”
Again … another emotional dilemma. Not only was I not raised to be mean and vindictive, I was raised to care for those who needed help. It was part of my upbringing at home as well as in church.
“They have two other children.”
I shook my head. “They’ll put them in a home, just like your dad wanted to do.”
“So?”
“So?” I choked on my disbelief. “They’re still okay, Linc. They have their home and some dignity left. They don’t need help bathing. They don’t need adult diapers. They can cook some of their own meals. They just need a little help with the more physical tasks. Are you going to throw me into a nursing home the second I start to get arthritis? Bad knees? Pain in a hip? Is that what’s around the corner for me? I brought you into this world, fed you, changed your diapers, taught you how to speak, kissed your wounds, made sure you had everything you needed, but when I need my lawn mowed or snow shoveled … you’re going to put me in a home?”
“Mom, if I’m not living in Epperly … if none of your children are living in Epperly … then what are we supposed to do? Move here to mow your lawn?”
“I don’t know, Linc. Maybe move me closer to you so you can help me out.”
“So we … draw straws to see who gets to take care of Mom?”
Oh. My. Gosh.
He said that. And I know he didn’t mean it to sound so harsh, like such an inconceivable burden … like the opposite of winning the lottery. But it did. It sounded pretty awful.