From Bully To Beloved

SERA

NINE DAYS LEFT

I’m humming to myself as I head back to work. The image of Cal’s “utterly exquisite drawing” creeps into my mind now and then, and I start giggling all over again. I’ve never seen something so peculiar and hysteriColtonin my life. It was like Coltonstarted the drawing with a stick figure and just added on body parts. Hilarious. He’s still a mystery to me. How can the boy who made fun of my picture and set it on fire back then have no trouble making fun of his own drawing style?

We had such a great time yesterday.

We spent the night in that room with Coltondoing various poses while I filled canvas after canvas. By the time we went to bed, I had several new drawings. They’re mostly done too. I just need to go in and work on some finer details.

Coltonis the best model. I’m not kidding.

True, he’s striking and an Adonis of a man. But he’s also patient. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t make a face, or give me attitude when I ask him to move slightly, or when he had to stay perfectly still. When my ex would pose, he was always bitching about it, to the point where I felt so rushed and eventually stopped asking him to do it.

Coltonis the exact opposite. Some poses were his idea, and while I drew, we chatted about everything and nothing. My heart hurts knowing that our time together is limited. There are only a couple of days-nine, to be exact-left in the month before we get divorced and return to our separate lives.

I’m so lost in thought when walking into The Diner that I don’t even notice Marie is here already. Her office door opens as I head to the back to clock in.

She pokes her head out. “Sera! I’m so glad you’re here. Come into my office. I want to talk to you.”

A sinking feeling settles in my stomach, and I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Sure thing.” I enter her office and close the door behind me.

Marie gives me that sweet smile of hers and motions to the other chair. “Please, sit. Just give me a second to finish something…”

I sit, my hands tightly clasped together. She doesn’t talk to me right away, too busy going through the mountain of paperwork on her desk. The result is me stewing in anxious silence, waiting for her to speak up. When she’s done with whatever it is she was doing, she turns to give me her full attention.

“I take it you know why I want to talk to you,” she starts brightly.

“I have an idea.”

Her smile widens. “Sera, it’s no secret that I want you to take over for me. Over the last month, I’ve purposefully been taking time off to see how things run in my absence. You’ve done such an amazing job. I’m ready to finally ask you, officially-will you take over the diner for me when I retire?”

Marie has already told me that when I take over the diner, she will retain ownership of the property until I can afford to buy her out, and at that point in time, I’ll only be running the business. She’s offered me a more-than-fair price for the property when I’m ready (Marie is so, so sweet!). With the inheritance-and given the economy stays the course-I should be able to afford the sum she’s asking for in a few years, and without the inheritance, in about two decades. One of her conditions, however, is that I can’t resell the place before she dies and must be the one actively managing it. She’s going to consult with a real estate lawyer to draw up the paperwork and discuss payment options to find the best possible solution. As of now, and based on our research, a lease to buy agreement seems to be the best way to go. It’s a binding, legal document that reveals ownership, and an accountant will keep track of payments until the remainder of the loan is paid off. It’s perfect.

Still, the answer comes to me without even needing to think about it. I want to turn it down. I want to tell her no, that as much as I appreciate her and her offer, it’s not what I want.

I open my mouth-and nothing comes out.

I can’t speak. I look into her wide, hopeful eyes, and the protest dies in my throat.

Will it really be so bad? I mean, The Diner has a full staff and will run fine. Being the manager and owner will give me all the flexibility I need, and I’ll still be able to work on my art on the side. Besides, it’s going to take a while for all that to take off. And what happens if my art never takes off? The Diner is my safety net. I can do both for a while if I need to.

I also don’t want to disappoint Marie for no reason.

“Okay,” I agree, before I can talk myself out of it.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

Marie beams, standing from her seat and pulling me into a tight hug. “Oh, Sera. Thank you! I’msohappy. This takes such a weight off my shoulders, sweetie. I’m not going to be leaving immediately. There’s a lot I still need to take care of logistically before I sign everything over to you. We’ll need to hire another waitress which shouldn’t be too difficult…”

I lose track of what she’s saying after that.

She’s so happy, beaming with the brightest smile I’ve ever seen. I want to be happy for her. Part of me is. It really is. She deserves to retire and spend the rest of her life doing what she wants. She’s earned it after the blood, sweat, and tears she’s poured into this place, making it as successful and beautiful as it is. But my stomach still has a sinking feeling, a feeling I don’t think is going to go away anytime soon.

I have to ignore it-I have to push forward with my decision. This is the right thing to do. It’s something I knew was coming and had been putting off deciding until now. It’s going to be fine. Everything will be fine.

“Any questions?” Marie asks.

I realize I missed half of what she said. “Not right now. I’m sorry, I’m just taking it all in. You’ve given me a lot to process.”

Marie smiles, stroking my shoulder. “I understand. Itisa lot. Again, I’m not leaving right away, so there’s plenty of time to learn everything.” She looks at her watch. “Oh, breakfast is going to start soon. You should head out and get prep going.”

I nod, getting to my feet. “Sure thing.”

Marie stands again as well and gives me another hug, which I return. “You’re the best, Sera. I hope you know that.”

Kelly is in the dining room, and has already started the morning routine. When she notices me, she knits her brow. “Sera, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“Marie just talked to me,” I tell her.

“And?”

“And…she did exactly what we thought she was going to do.”