Page 55 of Waves of Time
ChapterTwenty-One
Two weeks after Hilary’s surgery, the world was still a little soft and blurry around the edges. The doctor said she was healing well; that this was normal. Hilary decided to take it in stride, to remain hopeful, and to believe in what the doctor said. If she was correct, Hilary would be back to work by November, back into her blissful reality of being an interior designer, a woman who Martha Stewart had called “one of the most exciting new interior designers of the twenty-first century.” She needed her eyes for that.
But just now, Hilary’s body was taking a much-needed break. She sat on the back porch of her beautiful lilac Victorian house, sipping coffee, her eyes only partially open. The breeze was chilly, the temperature barely reaching fifty, and she was bundled up in a sweater and a pair of slippers. As she sat, she closed her eyes and imagined beautiful things, dreamy rooms she would one day design, and wrote out what she saw in her mind’s eye, surprised at what this surgery had done for her creativity. The brain was an incredible thing.
There was a shuffle from inside, then the sound of Aria’s voice. Hilary turned as a blurry version of Aria stepped out of the house, waved her arms on either side of her frame, and said, “Do you think this looks okay?”
Hilary wasn’t entirely sure what Aria looked like, but she knew to trust Aria’s eye. “You look incredible, honey.”
Aria collapsed in the chair across from Hilary. “Dad says we’re leaving in five. He’s one of those guys who likes to get to the airport four hours before the flight.”
Hilary laughed. “That’s something I never knew about him. We never had the money to travel together.”
“I guess you’ll have to get used to that now,” Aria teased.
“Uh oh.”
The back door opened again, and a blurry version of handsome Marc stepped through. “It’s cold out here! Are you two crazy?”
“You’ve gotten soft from your years in California,” Hilary said. “If you’re really moving back, you better harden up.”
Marc came closer, then closer until Hilary could make out the details of his face. He then kissed her and said, “All right. Just give me another few weeks of complaining, and then I’ll get over it. I’ll never mention California weather again.”
“You promise?” Hilary asked.
“Scout’s honor.”
“Mom? I wanted to talk to you about the sunroom at Rodrick’s,” Aria said, her voice strained. “The photos he sent are a bit strange. I think the contractor didn’t pay attention to what we said about the windows.”
Hilary nodded. “Then talk to them about it.”
Aria stuttered. “I just want to make sure you agree?”
“Aria, I trust you completely,” Hilary assured her. “You’re going alone for a reason. There are problems out in San Francisco, and you have to figure them out. This is what you’ll have to do all the time when you work for yourself.”
Even though she was blurry, Hilary could see how big Aria’s eyes were. She was terrified. But Hilary had once been terrified when she’d had to step out on her own as an interior designer. If Aria was ever going to go after her dreams, she had to break off from her mother’s nurturing help. She had to make decisions on her own.
Hilary was sure Aria could do it. Aria had to believe in herself, which Hilary knew was the hardest part.
“And you? How are you feeling about your big meeting?” Hilary asked Marc as he fluttered around the table, his eyes on the door.
“I don’t think they know I’m quitting,” Marc said.
“Will they get angry?” Aria asked.
“Probably,” Marc said. “But it’s only because I’ve been instrumental in making them buckets of money. I’ll just assure them they can find someone else like me— maybe even someone better.”
“I don’t believe there’s anyone half as good as you,” Hilary said.
“You’re sweet. But I’m sure there are thousands of guys who can crunch numbers like me,” Marc said. “They just don’t look half as good in a suit.”
Hilary and Aria rolled their eyes, laughing.
“I can’t believe I have to travel with this arrogant guy all the way across the continent,” Aria said.
“In all seriousness,” Marc continued, “I am going to meet with a real estate broker during this trip just to get a sense for the process of potentially selling the apartment.”
Hilary’s heart lifted. When Marc first told her he wanted to stay, she wasn’t sure what to believe. A part of her assumed that he’d find a way to return to California, to leave his “old lady ex” and keep having fun. But a conversation with a broker was a big step.