Dreaming in Technicolor (34 page)

That's 'cause I was under the mistaken assumption that she'd held my
dad back from his dreams. How was I supposed to know she had dreams
of her own?

You could have asked.

All right, already. Ancient history. Mom and I are good to go now, so
give it a rest.

“Okay, Miss English and Drama Major,” I said to Karen. “Your turn.”

My sister-in-law was thrilled with her Oxford sweatshirt and the CD from the London production of
Les Miz.
(I'd also bought her a beautiful bone-china teacup, but I was saving that for Mother's Day.)

“And now for the
pièce de résistance . . .
” I reached into a separate bag—the big white one—and pulled out a large, heavily padded box, which I presented to my mother. “I had them wrap it really well so it wouldn't break.”

It took a while, but she finally cut through all the tape and wrapping and opened the lid to reveal . . . more wrapping. Around a bulky round object.

“Told you I didn't want it to break.” I grinned at her. “Careful now.”

She gasped at what she could see beneath the final flimsy layer of tissue paper. “Oh my.” Gingerly she removed the antique Blue Willow teapot.

“That's to replace the one I broke years ago when I was a bratty teen.”

Her eyes glistened.

“I found it in this great little shop in the Cotswolds that you'd have loved. The only thing
—
it's over a hundred and fifty years old, so you probably don't want to use it when you play tea party with Lexie.”

Mom
carefully set the teapot down on the table, gently tracing the ancient blue-and-white pattern. “It's absolutely beautiful, daughter. Thank you so much. I can't believe you brought this all the way from England.” She leaned over and hugged me. “I'll treasure it always.”

“It's the least I could do after all the grief I've given you over the years,” I said quietly. “But now,” I added with a Monty Python flourish, “for something completely different.”

Glancing around to make sure all the kids were still inside, I outlined my idea to Mom and Karen.

The next morning, Karen and I researched small-business loans on the Net while Mom held down the fort at Books 'n' Brew and Ashley babysat.

And that night when Jordy got home from his second job, we filled him in on our plan.

“You want to do what?” he said, his head swiveling from one of us to another in disbelief.

“We want to buy Books 'n' Brew from Mr. Webster and run it ourselves,” I said calmly.

He gave me an incredulous look. “But you can't afford that—
we
can't afford it. None of us has that kind of capital to invest.”

“Not alone, we don't, brother dear.” I stuck out my chin. “But it's very easy these days for small, women-owned businesses to get loans, so that's what we're going to do.”

Jordy started to interrupt, but I didn't give him a chance. “Mom and Karen are already working there and loving it, and Books 'n' Brew does a good business, so why watch all the profits from their hard work go to someone else?” I folded my arms across my chest. “A San Francisco businessman who doesn't even live here, no less. Let's keep Barley money in Barley.”

My brother looked at his wife, then his mother, and finally back to me, “Pheebert, I hate to remind you, but you've never been so good with numbers,” he said gently.

“I know.” I gave him a triumphant smile. “But
you
are. Which is why we want you to be our bookkeeper and financial adviser.” I hurried on before he could interrupt. “With Mom's baking skills, Karen's educational and organizational skills, my understanding of the retail market, and your financial acumen, we can't lose.”

“But what about your job at the
Bulletin
?”

“I've already given my notice to Gordon.” I shuddered. “If I had to write about one more goat or emu, I'd tear my hair out.”

Jordy gave me a knowing look. “But you love to write. Won't you miss it?”

Mom and Karen had raised the same concern, but I had a ready answer.

“That's the good part.” I flashed my brother another triumphant smile. “I'll still keep writing the column I started while I was in England—
and
I can write about whatever I want! How great is that?” I rushed on before he could raise another objection. “The thing is, it will only be a monthly column. Not enough work to keep me busy, and definitely not enough money to pay the rent, so I need another job—and I love the idea of working in the family business. At the very least, I could play janitor.”

He sighed. “Do you know how many mom-and-pop businesses fail every day? Especially with all the giant megastores and chains to compete with? It's not easy getting a business off the ground. Most don't see a profit for at least two years.”

Mom stuck in her two cents. “Jordy, the Books 'n' Brew has been going strong for nearly four years now. It's not going to go belly up all of a sudden because three women have taken it over. Right now, it's the only bookstore and coffee bar in town, and business has been booming—especially with the influx of all these Bay Area folks moving to the area lately. People
like
a good cappuccino and pastry”—two spots of color appeared on her cheeks—“and if there's one thing I know how to do well, that's bake pastry!”

Karen tackled her husband next. “
And
thanks to Phoebe's new awareness of all things English, once a month we're going to offer an afternoon tea—a literary tea.” She clapped her hands in delight. “Women will love it! My friends and I have been saying we wish we had a tearoom closer than the one in Sacramento. Please, honey,” she implored her husband. “This is something I can do to contribute financially to our household again, so you won't have to work so hard. This would be great for us.”

Her voice grew stronger. “The kids miss you, I miss you, and we're all worried about you. Besides, this can be a whole-family venture; something we can take pride in and have fun with at the same time.” She shot him a sly grin. “
And
it will give Ashley a positive outlet for all that teenaged hormonal energy.”

“She's right about that, son.” Mom chimed in.

Jordy glanced from his wife to his mother, taking in their shining eyes and hopeful looks. Then he looked at me. “And you thought this up, little sister?”

“Yes-s.”

He hugged me, his eyes bright. “Sounds like a great idea. Where do we start?”

Checking e-mail before I went to bed that night, I was delighted to find messages from both Cordelia and Grace.

To: Movielovr
From: Learschild

Hello, Phoebe. How was your flight home? Hope it wasn't too bumpy. Did Mary Jo have to take another Xanax? Too bad Ian wasn't along; he'd have calmed her nerves.
The man is absolutely besotted! It's really quite sweet, actually. He talks about her incessantly. (She'll probably have several e-mails in her inbox from him.) I'm glad to see that at least one man in my life isn't a great idiot when it comes to women. My brother can be so thick at times. But I won't go there.

I have a bit of good news: Dad's actually asked me to take more responsibility in the company—he's even talking about a promotion. I think he's finally beginning to realize that my being young doesn't mean I'm stupid. (The conservative clothes and hair color help, and I keep my little tattoo under wraps.
)

Must run. Give my love to Mary Jo and write soon.

Cheers, Delia

I decided to hold off on answering Delia's e-mail until I'd had a chance to read her mom's as well.

To: Movielovr
From: Gspencer

Dear Phoebe, I wanted to drop you a brief note to say again just how lovely it was to meet you when you were here in England. I'm delighted you had the time to visit us, and I hope your journey home was smooth. Do know that you're welcome here anytime. (I don't know anyone else who will give me a push on the library ladder.) I think you're a warm and lovely young woman, and I wish you only God's best in your writing and in your life.

Warmly, Grace Spencer (Jeremiah 29:11)

I sent thank-yous to both Delia and Grace and told them of our new family business idea. Then, as I snuggled beneath the covers, I repeated the familiar words from Jeremiah that Grace had referred to in her note:

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the LORD. ‘Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'”