Page 37 - It Ends with Us
P. 37

at  a  bar   down   the   street .  If  it’s  okay,  I’ll  just  ha ng   with   you  and   get

                started  right  no w.”


                                                           •  •  •


                Two  hou rs  later,  I’m  conv inc ed   I’ve  met   my  new   bes t  friend .  And   she
                rea lly is a Pint eres t who re.
                    We    write   “Keep ”   and    “Toss”   on   sticky   no tes ,   and    slap   them    on
                ev er ythi ng    in   the   room.   She’s   a   fel low   bel iev er   in   upcycling ,   so   we
                come     up   with   idea s   for   at   lea st   75   perc ent    of   the   stuff   lef t   in   the
                building .  The     res t  she   says  her   hu sband   can  thro w  out  when     he   ha s

                free   time.   Onc e  we  kno w  wha t  we’re     going   to  do  with  all  the   stuff,  I
                grab  a  no teb ook  and   a  pen      and   we   sit  at  one   of  the   tables   to  write
                down  des ign  idea s.
                    “Okay,”  she  says, lea ni ng  back in  her  cha ir. I want  to laugh,  bec ause
                her  whi te  capris are  covered  in  dirt no w, but she  does n’t seem  to care.
                “Do you ha ve  a goal for thi s place?”  she  asks, glanc ing  around .
                    “I ha ve  one,” I say. “Succeed .”

                    She   laughs .   “I   ha ve   no    doubt   you’ll   succeed .   But   you   do   need    a
                vision. ”
                    I thi nk  about wha t my mother  said. “Just mak e sure it’s brav e an d  bold,
                Li ly.”  I  smile  and   sit  up  straight er  in  my  cha ir.  “Brave  and   bold,”  I  say.
                “I want  thi s place  to be  different . I want  to take  risks.”

                    She   na rro ws   her   ey es    as   she    chew s   on   the   tip   of   the   pen.    “But
                you’re  just  sel ling   flowers ,”  she  says.  “How  can  you  be  brave  and   bold
                with  flowers ?”
                    I  look  around   the  room  and   try  to  env ision  wha t  I’m  thi nk ing .  I’m
                no t  ev en   sure   wha t  I’m  thi nk ing .  I’m  just  get ting   itchy   and   res tles s,
                like  I’m  on    the   verg e  of  a  brilliant   idea .  “Wha t  are   some  words  tha t
                come  to mind  when  you thi nk  of flowers ?” I ask her.
                    She  shr ugs.  “I  don’t  kno w.  They ’re  sweet ,  I  gues s?  They ’re  alive,   so

                they  make  me  thi nk  of life.  And maybe  the  color pink . And  spring .”
                    “Sweet ,   life,    pink ,   spring ,”   I   rep ea t.   And    then,    “Allysa,   you’re
                brilliant !”   I   stand    up   and    beg in    pacing     the   floor.    “We’l l   take
                ev er ythi ng    ev eryone   loves    about   flowers ,   and    we’l l   do   the   complet e
                opposite! ”

                    She  makes  a face  to let  me  kno w she  isn’t following .
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