By close on Sunday, my whole body ached, and I was more tired than I thought I’d ever been, but I was giddy, too. The weekend’s sales had given my bank accounts a boost, but more importantly, I was feeling confident that I could do this thing, that I might not have to mooch off of Mart forever.
I stayed behind at the store after everyone left just to straighten up and to enjoy the quiet for a bit. I reshelved all the books that had been left around over the weekend. I checked the picture books in the kids’ section to be sure no dust jackets were torn. I gave Mayhem a good rub on her bed by the register. I fussed with the chairs in the perfectly tidy café just so I could put a hand to everything in the shop.
Then, I dropped into the wingback chair next to the poetry section and cried. Bei
