Our building, our window displays. Jesus, I'm already thinking of it as mine. Liz is an evil genius and I haven’t even walked inside yet.

Speaking of the she-devil, Liz stepped out of one of the doors, holding it open with her hip.

"Stop gawking and get your ass in here," she yelled out to me, before turning around and walking back inside.

Gavin unfastened his seat belt and tried to open his door but the childproof lock prevented him from doing so.

"Come on, Mommy," he complained. "Auntie Wiz said to get our ass in dare."

"Gavin, language," I said, rolling my eyes at his refusal to listen as I got out and walked around to open his door. I grabbed his hand and helped him jump down out of the car.

"Be good, you got it?" I asked as we walked up onto the sidewalk. "Don't run, don't yell, don't touch anything and stop saying bad words or you're going home to take a nap."

"Naps can suck it."

I will not sell him to gypsies. I will not sell him to gypsies.

A bell dinged above the door as I opened it, and Gavin yanked his hand out of mine to go running into Liz’s arms.

"Ooooooh, my handsome man is here!" Liz squealed as she scooped him up and swung him around. "What's new, little man?" she asked as she set him down on top of the counter next to her.

"Mommy don't feel good today and I got a big wiener!"

Liz barked out a laugh.

"Gavin, please. Enough with the wiener talk," I complained

"But, Mommy, look," he said as he attempted to unbutton his jeans. "My wiener is really big and tall right now and it feels funny."

"Ooookay," I said as I quickly walked over and stopped him from whipping it out. "No one needs to see it and remember what I told you the other night?”

Gavin nodded in understanding and I slid him down off of the counter and told him to go look out the front window to count the cars that go by. When his face and hands were plastered against the window, I turned to face Liz who was silently laughing with her hand over her mouth.

"It's not funny," I hissed at her in a loud whisper. "Why the f**k didn't anyone tell me four-year-olds get woodys? I am not equipped to deal with this shit, Liz."

She wiped tears out of her eyes and looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, Claire, but seriously. That is some funny shit right there. Sorry, I know nothing about four-year-old boys. When the hell did it first happen?"

"ONE!" Gavin yelled from in front of the window as a car went by.

"The other night after his bath. He was lying on the floor on his towel and I gave him a book to read while I ran down the hall to get his pajamas out of the dryer," I started.

"TWO!" came another yell from Gavin.

"I walked in the room and he rolled over onto his back and that thing stuck straight up into the air like a lightening rod. It was horrific. He kept smacking at it and saying it felt funny. Jesus Christ, will you stop laughing!"

"FWEE!"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" Liz gasped in between laughs.

"And of all the books he could have been reading when it happened, it had to be Barney. My son gets a hard-on for f**king BARNEY," I screeched and quickly turned around to make sure Gavin didn't hear me.

Liz was hysterical at this point. Her mouth was closed and her shoulders were shaking. Every time she tried to breathe and not laugh she snorted and then choked.

“Did you ask your dad about it?” she asked between giggles and coughs.

I rolled my eyes before responding as I thought back to the conversation I’d attempted to have with my dad the other morning.

“You know my dad. As soon as I said the word penis he turned and walked out of the room and told me to call my mother. And she was just as much help as you are right now. When I asked her if it was normal she replied “Does a one-legged duck swim in circles?” I hung up on her after ten straight minutes of her doing that hyperventilating laugh thing after I told her about the Barney Boner.”

Liz finally calmed down and we both turned to check and make sure Gavin was still occupied.

"Now every time it happens he wants to show me and say 'Mom! Look at my big wiener!' So I just told him it was normal and it happens to all little boys and it just wasn't something he should go walking around telling people."

Liz patted me on the back and gave me a look of pity. "Well, that's just proof you need a man in your life, Claire. And speaking of men in your life…."

"Don't. Don't even go there,” I threatened, pointing my finger in her face so she knew I was serious. “I am so not ready to have this discussion with you right now. I'm still wondering if last night was a dream and that wasn't really him. Maybe I was just imagining things in the haze of alcohol. I mean, in all the bars, in all the towns, in all the world…"

"Easy there, Humphrey Bogart, it was him. I immediately recognized him and the friend he had with him. That was the guy who tried to make out with me that night right after telling me he usually liked girls with bigger tits but since I was pretty he would make an exception."

I knew I was full of shit trying to convince myself that maybe it wasn't him. But having Liz confirm it made me feel like a dumb ass.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Did you see his eyes? God, those were Gavin's eyes. They were that same weird blue-grey color with a black outline. What the f**k am I going to do?" I asked in a panic.

"TEN!"

"Gavin, four comes after three," Liz yelled to him while I tried not to throw up on the floor.

"That's boring," he announced.

"Come on, let me give you the tour before he starts showing his penis to all the people walking by and gets an indecent exposure ticket before the ink is dry on this place," Liz said as she grabbed my hand. "You're going to stop worrying about this right now and just enjoy taking a look at your dreams coming true. We'll worry about blue-eyes later."

***

I was still in shock and awe mode as I drove us home two hours later. Gavin fell asleep as soon as the car started, so I didn't have any nonsense chatter about wieners and nuts coming from the backseat to break up my thoughts. The kitchen at the store was much nicer than I remembered from the years I spent stopping in there for a cup of coffee and a muffin, and it was stocked with supplies I only dreamed of using, let alone owning. There was an industrial-sized, two-door reach-in freezer with a matching three-door reach-in-fridge, a heavy-duty electric range with six burners, two Cyclone convection ovens, a holding cabinet that could keep sixteen trays of chocolates cool, a refrigerated bakery case that was right below the front counter and two copper kettles to melt chocolate, caramel or pretty much anything I needed. Right in the middle of the room was a four-foot by six-foot island with a cooling marble countertop - perfect for making candy. In all the time I’d patronized Andrea’s Bakery, I always loved the open floor-plan. I loved how when you were at the counter paying you could see into the kitchen and watch someone making cakes or pies.

It was too much and I told Liz that as I walked around the kitchen, letting my hand trail over all of the equipment. She tried to tell me that the previous owners recently upgraded everything so all of the stuff in the kitchen came with the space, but I knew she was lying. I’d been in Andrea’s Bakery not that long ago and spoke with the manager. I knew for a fact they didn’t upgrade. Plus, Liz could never look me in the eyes when she lied and she swore twice as much.

"Liz, this is too much. I can't let you do this."

"Oh for fuck's sake, Claire. This f**king shit came with the f**king place and the previous f**king owners just want to f**king get rid of it."

Liar liar, f**king pants on f**king fire.

Liz’s side of the store was just as nice, only without the amazeballs kitchen that my side had. She showed me where she wanted the wall to go that would separate the two spaces right down the middle, but not extend all the way to the front. She wanted enough room up by the windows for customers to walk back and forth between the two stores. It would provide just enough privacy in case my customers weren't too keen on looking at the dildos, lingerie and lube on Liz’s side and she said we could put a door back by my kitchen where the two of us could easily go back and forth without going to the main parts of the stores. The front of both of our sides had a counter where a cash register would go. Liz’s side had display tables littered throughout the front so she could display the items she would have for sale. Mine was left empty right now, so I could possibly add some tables for people to sit down in the future. I realized she made changes to the place long before she clued me in, knowing full well I wouldn’t be able to turn it down once I saw the hard work she put in to it. Where my side was wide open so when you were standing in front, you could see the entire kitchen in the back, Liz’s side had a wall right behind the front counter since the only thing in the back of her store would be inventory. She’d thought of everything and I was completely amazed at all she’d done in such a short amount of time.

While Gavin ran amok, we sat down on the floor with all of the paperwork strewn around us. We were knee deep in zoning permits, sales tax licenses, business plans, insurance policies and a hundred other different forms that made my head spin. This dream was so close I could touch it, but the fear of not being able to afford it had me biting my fingernails down to stubs. I could take up extra shifts at Fosters to save some more money and of course there was the additional income I would get from suffering through a bunch of Liz’s sex toy parties, but it still wouldn’t be enough to swing the rent and I refused to let Liz invest any more of her money for me. Liz called my father before I could protest and he met us up at the shop to take a look around.

“So, what do you think?” I asked him as he opened up the fuse box and took a look inside.

“Wiring is good. The kitchen is on a separate circuit from the security system,” he replied.

“That’s not what I mean.”

I wanted him to knock some sense in to me like he was famous for. Tell me I was insane for thinking I could do something like this; call me an as**ole for having my head in the clouds.

My dad closed the fuse box and turned around to stare up at the ceiling.

“You know how when you were in college I was paying your room and board every month?” he asked as he checked out all of the light fixtures. “Well, for the past five years, I’ve been putting that money into a savings account every month just in case you needed it one day. With the interest it’s earned, it’s a little over fifty thousand right now.”

My mouth dropped open in shock and Liz, who was standing close by and not even trying to pretend that she wasn’t eavesdropping, started squealing loud enough to break the sound barrier. She jumped up and down and flung her arms around my dad while I stood there trying to process what he’d just told me.

“Mr. Morgan, if you weren’t my best friend’s father I would totally hump your leg right now,” Liz told him excitedly.

“There’s a…I have…my dog’s at the vet,” my dad stuttered awkwardly as he pulled himself away from Liz and walked out of the store.

“You’re dad doesn’t have a dog,” Liz stated as the bell over the door jingled with his departure.

“Nope. Your dry humping threats have finally made him go insane.”

It took another hour for Liz to convince me that it wasn’t selfish to take the money my dad offered. It was money he put away for me to do with as I wished, so why shouldn’t I use it to start up the business I’ve always dreamed of? With money worries out of the way for the time being, Liz asked me to make up a tray of items to take to the party she booked me to do tomorrow afternoon. Jenny, a friend of her cousin, was having it and she was a computer designer. She offered to help Liz with brochures and flyers and things like that. Liz let her know I would be doing her party and that I would need help creating something to advertise my store as well. She agreed to help us out as long as she got to test out some free samples. I'd let her sample my va**na if she did this for me.

After the party, I was going to head over to Liz and Jim’s house for dinner and some wine so we could talk more and come up with names for our business.

Our business. I repeated those words over and over to myself as I drove home from the store, trying to make it sink in. It was all happening so fast. Just two days ago the idea of owning my own business was a pipe dream that I figured was years and years away from ever happening.

I pulled into my driveway and quietly unbuckled a sleeping Gavin so I could take him in the house and lay him down. As I lifted him out of his car seat and held his head to my shoulder, he wrapped his arms around my neck and squeezed.

"You hafta mow the lawn wiffa snake marshmallow," he mumbled sleepily. "I slipped on a penny."

I let out a chuckle at my son's sleep-talking habits as I walked into the house and got him situated in his bed.

I wonder if he talks in his sleep too.

Liz sufficiently took my mind off of Gavin’s father all morning, but now that I was alone with my thoughts, his reappearance in my life screamed through my head and it was all I could think about. For all I knew, he could have been passing through town and I'll never see or hear from him again. He was too drunk to remember me the first time we met, and obviously history was repeating itself. He had no clue who I was last night.

I refused to admit it stung a little that I hadn't made any kind of impact on him almost five years ago, when I had to live with a reminder of him every single day.