37
Now October
“You seem surprisingly stable considering Bridget just left,” Farah says the day after I take Bridget to the airport.
“I’m never stable enough for you to quit, if that’s where this is headed.”
“No,” she says. “But I do want to talk about something. It’s been two months since you went to PEI, which means it’s been two months since you
took a vacation day.”
“I know. We’ve been busy.”
“We have, but we have more help now. Things are going well. You could breathe for a minute, and we’d be okay.” She frowns, but not in the way she does when there’s a tiny dog in a customer’s handbag. She looks surprisingly vulnerable. “Do you . . .” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know . . . not trust me?”
“What? Absolutely I do. Why would you think that?”
“You waited a year to take a holiday and only left because Bridget was in crisis. You’re here all the time. You show up on your days off.”
“I—” I take a beat to figure out what I want to say. When I used to compliment Farah’s work, she’d hike her shoulders to her ears like she was in pain. Over time, I stopped doing it. I assumed she knew how much I value her. “I trust you,” I tell her. “You’re organized, reliable, and unbelievably talented. I’m sorry for not letting you know.”
Farah squirms in her seat but says thanks. Just as I think we’re done, she clears her throat. “I understand that this is your business and that nothing is
more important to you, but I care about it, too.”
“I know that.” I saw past Farah’s apathetic veneer a long time ago.
“Lucy, you’re a micromanager.”
I swallow. That’s hard to hear.
“If you can step back a bit and let me help more, I’d appreciate that. I’d like some room to grow.”
I take a deep breath. “I get it.” Room to grow. “I think I need that, too.”
