“I still worry about my guys,” she admitted. Without her there, who was watching out for them?
“I’m sure they’re finding their way. You did something good for this one, and that’s good karma out in the Universe.”
“I could use some good karma. I think I’m finally ready to dip a toe back into my actual profession again.”
Carolanne’s hands paused on the cookie cutter. “Oh?” Her tone was deceptively casual, but that careful, watchful manner was proof she was slipping into therapist mode.
You can take the therapist away from her couch... She didn’t suppose her sister would ever lose that training.
“I’ve been itching to do...something for a while now.” In truth, she’d been itchy in general, which wasn’t like her. “I’m so grateful to Mama Pearl for hiring me on, but I miss doing my thing. The creativity and challenge of it. So, I figured I’d use the holidays to test the waters.”
“How exactly?”
“I’ll offer up decorating services to people to help them get their businesses or homes all ready for the holidays. I’ve already got a notebook with ideas for various businesses downtown. It’s on tomorrow’s to do list to swing by and talk to the owners and give them my pitch. It’d be pro-bono work, just to spread some holiday cheer and show my skills to the town. And, if I’m lucky, it’ll help get me some referrals for some legitimate decorating jobs down the line.” She had bigger aspirations than that, but she hadn’t quite worked up the courage to go after them. Admitting that to Carolanne would inevitably steer the conversation toward the other fears she was avoiding, so Hannah popped a pecan into her mouth instead.
“Hands off the pecans until we’re done,” her sister ordered.
With an impish grin, Hannah grabbed one more on principle and made a show of chomping it.
“So you’ve decided to stay in Wishful instead of going back to Atlanta?”
That was something Hannah had given a great deal of thought over the past months. She’d loved the creative challenges of her job in Atlanta and loved the city she’d grown up in. But if she went back, she’d be starting over at the bottom of the heap, having to claw her way up all over again, along with all the other junior designers, not all of whom had her sense of fair play. Wishful had taken her in as much as her sister had after the accident. The people here had given her a place and purpose.
“Yeah, I think I have.” Maybe she wouldn’t have the kind of career opportunities here that she’d have in a big city, but she had other things that were just as valuable to her.
Carolanne fixed steady green eyes on her. “Is it because you really want to stay or because you’re afraid to leave?”
That was a question Hannah didn’t really want to answer. So she sidestepped it. “Trying to get rid of me, big sis?”
“You know I love having you here, and you can stay as long as you like. I’m just curious, is all.”
Just curious, my ass.
“It’s past the year mark,” Carolanne continued. “You’ve got a clean bill of health and nothing stopping you from picking up your old life.”
“You mean other than lack of a job.”
“There are other jobs with other firms.”
She’d considered that. “And few of them would be excited about a prospective employee who’s spent more than a year out of the field.”
“You’ve got your blog and that whole Pinterest following.”
“That’s not the same thing.” Even if those online outlets had kept her from going insane. “Anyway, that’s not the point. I love Wishful, and I’m really happy here.”
That wasn’t a lie. She was happy here. More to the point, she was comfortable here. She loved the people, loved the town. And if it was small enough that it enabled her to continue not driving, well, what was wrong with that?
Carolanne’s face set in familiar, neutral lines as she weighed what to say and how to get Hannah to face the things she was avoiding. Before her sister found those words, Hannah offered a bright smile. “Now, let’s talk about the fabulous displays you’re going to let me create at Sweet Magnolias.”
A faint crease formed between Carolanne’s brows, but she didn’t press. Thank God. “What displays might those be?”
“I was thinking on that wall by the register, I’d make a special display for all your mugs, arrange them so they look like a Christmas tree.”
“A Christmas tree?”
Hannah didn’t let the skepticism faze her. “Some little shelves of graduated lengths mounted to the wall. Some greenery. The mugs themselves will stand in for ornaments. Trust me. You’re gonna love it.”
“I can’t think of a problem with any of that.”