Secrets Whispered from the Sea - Emma St. Clair Page 0,30

part clued me in.

There were a few memories in my mind that could have prompted that. Notably, the time Ann and I decided to make our own self-tanning lotion from items in the bathroom cabinet. We were seven and ten, so I’m not sure why we were concerned with self-tanning, but that’s what we did. Nana had to replace the rug in her bathroom.

Seeing Nana’s script on page after page, hearing her voice in the words, soothed the ache deep in my chest. But it also made me regret how seldom I visited. Our weekly calls, which I already missed this week, were not enough. I should have been here. I hated that I couldn’t change it now. Maybe I needed to try harder with Ann, do more with the girls. At least while I was here, and then I could plan more trips to visit. I liked that idea the longer I thought about it.

When I finally turned on my side after placing the journal carefully on the table, I slept a deep and dreamless night, waking with the hot, fresh sun slanting through the windows. For the first time since I left Houston, the morning light felt like a gift, like a beginning of something new and possibly even good.

from A Full Accounting of My Mistakes and Failures

#145 - Have low expectations when doing crafts with children.

#146 - Never leave children unattended with glue. Especially superglue.

#147 - If you have to go to the bathroom when doing crafts with children, just hold it.

#148 - Invest in Goo Gone, baby wipes, and a lot of bleach. (see #s 145-147)

12

Two days later, I sat fidgeting on the uncomfortable wooden bench inside Sandover’s City Hall. I lifted my phone checking the time again. Sitting between Emily and Tommy, I couldn’t help but feeling like the three of us were the setup of some kind of joke. A jobless spinster, a rich and successful dad, and a contractor who looks like a supermodel walk into a bar …

I had no idea what the punchline would be, and we were about to walk into the big meeting room for the Crud meeting, but still. Ann had insisted Tommy come to the first of these meetings, where Emily would present the preliminary proposals to the Crud. If all went well, we would get the green light and permits. If it didn’t, we’d have to wait for two more weeks to present a new proposal.

I felt the pressure very acutely, right in the center of my wallet. Tommy seemed totally at ease, but the multiple texts that morning from Ann worrying about this very meeting spread her anxiety to me like a virus. Were she and Tommy that desperate for cash? How much had the IVF treatments cost? Tommy seemed as unflappable as ever, but I had a nagging sense that there was, as Vivi had said, a lot more going on behind the screen door.

Meanwhile, I was already starting to get restless. I hadn’t planned to stay here that long, though I guess in reality, not having a job yet meant there was nowhere for me to go. Maybe it was that lack of a plan that had me feeling all cagey and claustrophobic.

“Stop worrying,” Emily said, nudging me with her shoulder. “I can practically hear your teeth grinding.”

“Sorry.”

“Jackson approved the proposal. It’s going to be fine. It’s killer. Thanks to you.”

I smiled. “I wish I could take credit, but you’re the genius here.”

The plans were beautiful, even if they weren’t fully complete. I didn’t know how anyone could say no. Emily really was a genius. And I’d been happy to give my input when she’d sent texts asking questions or links to Pinterest boards of ideas. The more choices we—and especially I—made, the more excited and invested I became. I could envision Nana’s house in all its post-renovation glory.

My recent obsession with HGTV helped. I’d gotten the idea from Ann, actually, when she mentioned that Camille wanted to have her own show on the network. Camille was totally onto something. By the end of the second day of shows running in the background while I cleaned and packed Nana’s house, I could toss around phrases like four-piece bathroom, subway tile, and shiplap, which I happened to love just as much as everyone else, apparently.

The doors to the big room opened suddenly, and my head snapped up. A small group of people made their way out. Not one of them looked happy, which did