Page 124
Story: Rags to Royals
I push back from the desk and head out into the garage.
“Hey, Diane,” I greet the older woman.
“I got your message that the car is done,” she says with a smile.
I chuckle. As usual, the car didn’t really need any work. I changed the oil first thing when I came in, checked all the fluids, the tire pressure, even intended to vacuum the floor mats. But since Diane had only put forty miles on the car since the last time I’d worked on it, there wasn’t even one speck of gravel.
I dig her car keys out of my front pocket and hand them over. Then I have a thought.
I feel inspired from this weekend. After seeing the community Cian built, and hanging out with the Landrys, and witnessing how they all come together to make their family businesses work, but also seemingly take care of the entire town, I say, “Hey, Diane, can I run an idea past you?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, you know I love our arrangement. But, you and I both know this car doesn’t actually need this much attention.”
Diane looks like she’s about to argue so I hold up a hand. “Hang on, hear me out.”
Diane pauses.
“Mariah is also getting old enough that she needs to learn to cook. And our schedules are crazy so we’re not sitting down around the table quite as often.”
“But that’s the beauty of the frozen meals,” Diane says. “They’re just there whenever you need them. And the leftovers warm up well.”
“They absolutely do. And they’ve been a huge help. But I just don’t think we really need them as much anymore.”
Diane looks a little sad. “Do you know why I’ve wanted to do this for you?” she asks.
“Because you’re a wonderful woman and you knew that I needed some extra support?”
She smiles and says “Yes, I knew you needed support. But that’s because when I was a working mom with young kids, my sister made frozen dinners for us.” She swallows. “She died about three years ago. Cancer.”
My heart squeezes and I reach out, putting my hand on her arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that.”
“I miss her. And now that my kids are out of the house, it occurred to me that this was a way I could kind of keep her memory alive. The things I make for you are all her recipes. Whenever we have them, I think of her. And when I make them for me and my husband, I figured I could just make extra and help someone else out the way she helped me.”
I feel tears in my eyes and I have to blink rapidly. “Diane, I have a really wonderful idea that I think you’re going to love.”
“Really?”
“I trade services with a friend of mine, Amber Connors. Do you know her?”
“I know who she is.” Diane furrows her brow. “She has really curly blond hair?”
“Yes. Always smiling. Really friendly,” I say. “She owns a hair salon. She also does nails and facials. She has two kids in school, and she just found out she’s pregnant.”
Diane nods. “That’s a handful.”
“Very much so. She’s got a great husband, but he works late shifts. I think she would be so incredibly grateful and it would help her so much to have someone like you help her with meals. And you need to get your haircut sometimes, right?”
Diane laughs and lifts her hand to her hair. “Of course.” She looks down at her nails. “I don’t really do manicures, but I’ve always wanted to try one.”
“Oh, you definitely need to try a manicure,” I tell her. “And a pedicure. Those are the best.”
Diane smiles. “I bet Amber is really busy. And with three kids, they might need dinner more than just twice a week.”
My grin grows. “I bet you’re right.” I already love this. It bothered me to let Diane cook for us even twice a week, but I am certain Amber is going to welcome this. And while she will happily do Diane’s hair and nails, I don’t think Diane will mind doing this cooking at all. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if Amber ends up with some babysitting offers as well.
It does occur to me, however, that I hope Amber still needs help with treats for school and dance recitals once in a while because those are kind of fun for me.
“Hey, Diane,” I greet the older woman.
“I got your message that the car is done,” she says with a smile.
I chuckle. As usual, the car didn’t really need any work. I changed the oil first thing when I came in, checked all the fluids, the tire pressure, even intended to vacuum the floor mats. But since Diane had only put forty miles on the car since the last time I’d worked on it, there wasn’t even one speck of gravel.
I dig her car keys out of my front pocket and hand them over. Then I have a thought.
I feel inspired from this weekend. After seeing the community Cian built, and hanging out with the Landrys, and witnessing how they all come together to make their family businesses work, but also seemingly take care of the entire town, I say, “Hey, Diane, can I run an idea past you?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, you know I love our arrangement. But, you and I both know this car doesn’t actually need this much attention.”
Diane looks like she’s about to argue so I hold up a hand. “Hang on, hear me out.”
Diane pauses.
“Mariah is also getting old enough that she needs to learn to cook. And our schedules are crazy so we’re not sitting down around the table quite as often.”
“But that’s the beauty of the frozen meals,” Diane says. “They’re just there whenever you need them. And the leftovers warm up well.”
“They absolutely do. And they’ve been a huge help. But I just don’t think we really need them as much anymore.”
Diane looks a little sad. “Do you know why I’ve wanted to do this for you?” she asks.
“Because you’re a wonderful woman and you knew that I needed some extra support?”
She smiles and says “Yes, I knew you needed support. But that’s because when I was a working mom with young kids, my sister made frozen dinners for us.” She swallows. “She died about three years ago. Cancer.”
My heart squeezes and I reach out, putting my hand on her arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that.”
“I miss her. And now that my kids are out of the house, it occurred to me that this was a way I could kind of keep her memory alive. The things I make for you are all her recipes. Whenever we have them, I think of her. And when I make them for me and my husband, I figured I could just make extra and help someone else out the way she helped me.”
I feel tears in my eyes and I have to blink rapidly. “Diane, I have a really wonderful idea that I think you’re going to love.”
“Really?”
“I trade services with a friend of mine, Amber Connors. Do you know her?”
“I know who she is.” Diane furrows her brow. “She has really curly blond hair?”
“Yes. Always smiling. Really friendly,” I say. “She owns a hair salon. She also does nails and facials. She has two kids in school, and she just found out she’s pregnant.”
Diane nods. “That’s a handful.”
“Very much so. She’s got a great husband, but he works late shifts. I think she would be so incredibly grateful and it would help her so much to have someone like you help her with meals. And you need to get your haircut sometimes, right?”
Diane laughs and lifts her hand to her hair. “Of course.” She looks down at her nails. “I don’t really do manicures, but I’ve always wanted to try one.”
“Oh, you definitely need to try a manicure,” I tell her. “And a pedicure. Those are the best.”
Diane smiles. “I bet Amber is really busy. And with three kids, they might need dinner more than just twice a week.”
My grin grows. “I bet you’re right.” I already love this. It bothered me to let Diane cook for us even twice a week, but I am certain Amber is going to welcome this. And while she will happily do Diane’s hair and nails, I don’t think Diane will mind doing this cooking at all. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if Amber ends up with some babysitting offers as well.
It does occur to me, however, that I hope Amber still needs help with treats for school and dance recitals once in a while because those are kind of fun for me.
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