she wasn’t complaining. Her eyes surveyed the premises. This delightful shop, filled with the fanciest to the plainest of candies, was all hers, thanks to the generosity of her aunt Lois, who had chosen to retire to an assisted living facility in Savannah after suffering a stroke.
Even so, repairs of all sorts needed to be done, both upstairs and down. But they would have to wait. There was simply no money to make them.
Despite her problems, though, she had so much to be grateful for. After getting her teenage daughter Robin up and off to school, Janey always looked forward to dressing, walking downstairs to the smell of candy, chatting with her customers, then ringing up their sales.
But this day had been a particularly difficult one. Perhaps it was the fact that business had been incredibly slow that made her anxious. Sweet Dreams had to do well. There was no choice. She had no choice.
As a divorced single parent with a seventeen-year-old daughter to rear, she had to turn the shop into a profitable venture. Everything depended on it. During the last year of her aunt’s ownership, sales had begun to lag for no apparent reason, but Janey felt confident in her ability to swing sales in the other direction by introducing change and innovation.
Maybe her less than enthusiastic mood was simply weather-related. Even for the end of August, it had been cloyingly hot. The two air-conditioning units, one for the living quarters upstairs and one for the shop below, had been laboring overtime.
After summer heat so muggy and heavy that the clouds and mosquitoes could barely pierce it, fall would be an exquisite relief. Janey suddenly brightened at that thought.
In the years she’d been gone, she’d forgotten just how bad summers in the South could be. But when she’d arrived from Colorado, reality had slapped her in the face.
This, too, shall pass, she reminded herself with another dig at her neck muscles. Hot weather wouldn’t damage her, but a lack of customers just might. Refusing to dwell on that depressing thought, she grabbed the bottle of glass cleaner and a paper towel, and went to work on the counter.
“Mom, I’m home!”
The sound of her daughter’s voice never failed to buoy her spirits. Circumstances beyond her control had kept her away from her child for several months. Robin had returned to South Carolina at the end of her junior year in order to be on the drill team her senior year. But nothing would ever separate them again, she vowed fiercely. Life without Robin wasn’t worth living.
“I’m about ready to close.” Janey made her way to the side door. When she didn’t see her daughter, she asked, “Where are you, darling?”
“I’m already upstairs. I’ll be down in a sec.”
Janey always looked forward to the end of the day, when Robin would come bounding through the door, excited and eager to share the details of her day. Because she was a member of the drill team and had practice every afternoon, she didn’t get home until late.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” Janey smiled, then walked over and gave Robin a quick hug. “So how was your day, young lady?”
Munching on an apple, Robin shoved a swath of shoulder-length, strawberry-blond hair behind one ear, then perched on the stool at the end of the counter. A grin enhanced her features. “Nothing special—except I aced my Trig test.”
“Why, that’s great, honey.”
Robin’s grin deepened, and Janey’s heart melted. She and her ex-husband Keith had made a lot of mistakes in their marriage, but their daughter hadn’t been one of them. Janey marveled every day at this delightful child they had created.
She was tall and slender, with light brown eyes and incredibly long lashes that were dark despite her light-colored hair.
And while Robin wasn’t perfect—not by a long shot, Janey reminded herself ruefully—she wouldn’t change anything, except maybe her daughter’s strong-willed nature.
“How did the shop do today?” Robin asked.
Janey felt her features sober. “Not good. In fact, it was the pits.”
Robin took another bite of apple, then asked, “Wonder why?”
It was on the tip of Janey’s tongue to tell her daughter not to talk with her mouth full, but she refrained. Robin would merely roll her eyes, then give her that “look.”
“I have no clue,” Janey said instead. “I’ve tried to blame it on everything, even the weather.”
Robin stood and tossed her half-eaten apple in the nearest trash basket. “Man, oh man, was it ever hot today. We sweated our buns off, practicing.”
“So everything’s still going all right with the team?”
Robin’s face lighted. “Things are awesome, actually. We learned a new routine today that we’re going to perform at the first home game. Can’t wait for you and Dad to see it.”
“Well, you don’t have long to wait. Friday night next week, right?”
“Righto,” Robin replied, heading toward the door. “I’m going up and drown in the shower. I’m icky.”
Janey wrinkled her nose. “I wondered what that unpleasant odor was.”
“Jeez, Mom!”
Janey laughed. “Just teasing.”
“So what’s for dinner?”
“What do you want?”
“Pizza.”
“When you get through drowning, call it in.”
After Robin had disappeared up the stairs, Janey shook her head. Teenagers—a different breed. At times not human. Maybe that was a more apt description. She didn’t know many parents who would argue that point with her.
But she wouldn’t want it any other way. She would take the good with the bad and enjoy every moment. As it was, her daughter was growing up much too fast to suit her. She would have liked to slow time down so she would have more moments to savor. Since that wasn’t possible, she would make the most of the time Robin still had at home.
If only she didn’t have to share Robin with her ex-husband. If only she didn’t feel guilty about the divorce because of Robin. Keith had turned out to be a womanizing lush, and theirs was a family ripped apart at the seams. It had been a terribly difficult adjustment for Robin.
“Hey, Mom.”
Saved. Her daughter’s timing was perfect. She hated it when her guilty feelings resurfaced and she dwelled on them.
“Yes, dear?”
“I’m going after the pizza.”
“Be careful.”
Noticing that the clock registered five-thirty, she headed to the front door. That was when she saw a utility vehicle pull up. For a moment she was tempted to turn the sign around, anyway, but she didn’t. She needed the money
