than joking. “Today, I realized this is the first time in my life that I don’t have a plan. What the hell am I going to do when my dad doesn’t need me anymore?”
“You’ll be back here before you know it. We’ll figure out a way, I promise.”
“If that happens, I’ll be the happiest woman on the planet,” Harper said.
“If that happens, you’ll have to fight me for the title. I have to run. We have a planning meeting in five.”
“I have to go too. I have an important conference call with a mop and bucket that I can’t get out of.”
“Take care, my dear. Chin up. Keep in touch.”
“You too.”
As she got back to work, Harper groaned loudly. She should be on her way to that planning meeting right now. They would be working on the December issue and she desperately wished she were a part of it. December was one of her favourites—all those jackets and boots and warm, cozy sweaters to offset the glamorous cocktail dresses. She loved fall and winter fashion. It offered women who weren’t in perfect physical shape the chance to look amazing in the latest trends. Summer clothing was often too short, too tight and just didn’t fit right on anyone with flaws to hide. So when the cold-weather clothes came out, she could imagine women feeling fabulous as they adorned themselves with the perfect pair of wool slacks or a cashmere top that fell just right. And a few months after she had carefully attended to every detail of the fall and winter issues, she would see those looks on the streets of Manhattan. And it was wonderful. Gratifying in a way that few things had ever been. But she wasn’t there to be a part of it this time. And she had no idea if or when she ever would be again. Could that chapter of her life really be over? Was the career that she had given her life to, and that in return had given her so much, really finished?
* * *
That evening, Harper made several trips to the curb, dragging many bags and boxes for the next day’s garbage pickup, feeling very satisfied. As she stood on the driveway, she realized that she would have to find another way to spend her free time. But now she needed to channel her artistic side. It would be the best way for her to keep her sanity. Staring back at the yard, she decided that she should revitalize the tired flower beds in front of the house. That would allow her to bring something beautiful to her dad’s little corner of the world. Tomorrow, she would stop at a nursery on the way home from the hospital and pick up some plants. She put a little skip in her step as she made her way into the empty house to plan her next project.
* * *
Morning found Harper outside with a measuring tape and a pad of paper. The birds serenaded her as she drew sketches of the front yard, measuring the beds as she went. They were, for the most part, very bare, with the exception of the weeds that had taken over. A few overgrown evergreen shrubs stood as though randomly plunked into the ground. They were spaced too far apart, with nothing tying them together.
Harper sat on the front step, sipping her coffee and planning what would go in each spot. The warmth of the sun on her face brought a new sense of contentment with it. Maybe for now she needed to just go where her life was taking her, instead of trying to control everything.
Looking over at Evan’s house, she noticed that his truck was gone. She hadn’t seen him leave that morning and she found herself hoping that he had left for work early and not slept at someone else’s house. “Speaking of things you can’t control . . .” she said to herself.
By afternoon Harper was covered with sweat and dirt, which had stuck to the sunscreen on her arms as well as, somehow, to her neck and face. Glancing down at her jean shorts, she was glad she had dug around to find some old clothes for the job. It was a hot day and she was grateful the sun had already gone around the side of the
“You’ll be back here before you know it. We’ll figure out a way, I promise.”
“If that happens, I’ll be the happiest woman on the planet,” Harper said.
“If that happens, you’ll have to fight me for the title. I have to run. We have a planning meeting in five.”
“I have to go too. I have an important conference call with a mop and bucket that I can’t get out of.”
“Take care, my dear. Chin up. Keep in touch.”
“You too.”
As she got back to work, Harper groaned loudly. She should be on her way to that planning meeting right now. They would be working on the December issue and she desperately wished she were a part of it. December was one of her favourites—all those jackets and boots and warm, cozy sweaters to offset the glamorous cocktail dresses. She loved fall and winter fashion. It offered women who weren’t in perfect physical shape the chance to look amazing in the latest trends. Summer clothing was often too short, too tight and just didn’t fit right on anyone with flaws to hide. So when the cold-weather clothes came out, she could imagine women feeling fabulous as they adorned themselves with the perfect pair of wool slacks or a cashmere top that fell just right. And a few months after she had carefully attended to every detail of the fall and winter issues, she would see those looks on the streets of Manhattan. And it was wonderful. Gratifying in a way that few things had ever been. But she wasn’t there to be a part of it this time. And she had no idea if or when she ever would be again. Could that chapter of her life really be over? Was the career that she had given her life to, and that in return had given her so much, really finished?
* * *
That evening, Harper made several trips to the curb, dragging many bags and boxes for the next day’s garbage pickup, feeling very satisfied. As she stood on the driveway, she realized that she would have to find another way to spend her free time. But now she needed to channel her artistic side. It would be the best way for her to keep her sanity. Staring back at the yard, she decided that she should revitalize the tired flower beds in front of the house. That would allow her to bring something beautiful to her dad’s little corner of the world. Tomorrow, she would stop at a nursery on the way home from the hospital and pick up some plants. She put a little skip in her step as she made her way into the empty house to plan her next project.
* * *
Morning found Harper outside with a measuring tape and a pad of paper. The birds serenaded her as she drew sketches of the front yard, measuring the beds as she went. They were, for the most part, very bare, with the exception of the weeds that had taken over. A few overgrown evergreen shrubs stood as though randomly plunked into the ground. They were spaced too far apart, with nothing tying them together.
Harper sat on the front step, sipping her coffee and planning what would go in each spot. The warmth of the sun on her face brought a new sense of contentment with it. Maybe for now she needed to just go where her life was taking her, instead of trying to control everything.
Looking over at Evan’s house, she noticed that his truck was gone. She hadn’t seen him leave that morning and she found herself hoping that he had left for work early and not slept at someone else’s house. “Speaking of things you can’t control . . .” she said to herself.
By afternoon Harper was covered with sweat and dirt, which had stuck to the sunscreen on her arms as well as, somehow, to her neck and face. Glancing down at her jean shorts, she was glad she had dug around to find some old clothes for the job. It was a hot day and she was grateful the sun had already gone around the side of the
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