Page 46 of Never Fall Again
Eliza didn’t say anything until they were inside the studio and the doors were closed behind them. “Jensen comes around a lot.”
“He does.” Landry checked her notes and looked at a vase she’d made the day before. “He has a stressful job. He likes coming here because he can hike all day and come back to a warm fire and a delicious meal.”
“Is he rich?” Eliza asked.
“He is.”
“Do you think he’ll buy a lot of pottery tomorrow?”
Landry sat at her desk. “Come here, baby.”
Eliza did as she was told. Landry patted her lap and Eliza climbed into it. Landry wrapped her arms around her and pressed her cheek to her daughter’s head. “What’s all this about?”
“Are we poor?”
“No. We have everything we need and a lot of what we want.”
“But we aren’t rich.”
“Compared to the guests at The Haven, we aren’t rich. But compared to the rest of the world? We are. Where’s this coming from?”
Eliza squirmed. “You said you needed to sell more pottery to be able to have Mr. Cal build our house. And that you need Favors built first so we can have our house.”
Landry bit back a groan. Little ears. Always listening. Before she could respond, Eliza went on. “I said something about Mr. Cal building our house, and Jerry at school said Mr. Cal only builds houses for rich people and that I was lying.”
Jerry had been a problem from day one. The teachers knew. The kids knew. His parents? Yeah, they thought Jerry was an angel. “You can’t let Jerry bother you with stuff like that. You know you weren’t lying. Calisgoing to build our house. But I asked him to build Favors first because I need a place to show the pottery. And Jerry probably overheard something he doesn’t fully understand. Cal builds big houses for rich people. He also builds small houses. Even tiny houses.”
Eliza’s eyes lit up. “He built his house. And he built the houses for Miss Meredith and Mr. Mo.”
“That’s right.” Landry snuggled Eliza close to her side. “We’re going to have a beautiful house. A new studio that has a spot just for you. We’ll plant a garden. And flowers. And we can have your room painted any color you want.”
Eliza grinned at her. “Purple.”
Last week she’d said pink. The week before that, she’d said green. “We’ll see what color you want when it’s time to paint.”
“What color do you want your room to be, Mommy?”
“Gray.” Landry could almost picture it. Pale gray walls. Bedding in blues—navy, light blue, teal—a fluffy rug on the floor that would feel good on her bare feet when she climbed out of bed. She curled her toes in her shoes just thinking about it.
Eliza scrunched up her nose. “What about red?”
Landry kissed her nose. “Definitely not red.”
Eliza giggled and then yawned.
“You’ve had a big day. You need some sleep.”
“Mmm.” Eliza put her head on Landry’s chest and snuggled closer.
“I love you, baby. If anything ever worries you, you can always come and talk to me. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“Did you tell the teacher what Jerry said?”
“She heard him. She said that she’d known Cal forever and he built beautiful houses. Then she said she couldn’t wait to see our new house.”
Landry let it go. Not that she would forget. This was the part of parenting no one warned you about. It was imperative that Eliza learn how to stand up for herself. But should she already have to learn at five?