It wasn’t fair.
The flood of emotion consumed me and I let it all go into my brother’s navy shirt.
“Please, Poppy,” Finn whispered into my hair. “Please think about stopping this list thing. I hate that it makes you cry.”
I sniffled and wiped my eyes, fighting with all my strength to stop crying. “I have to,” I hiccupped. “I have to do this. Even if it takes me years.”
Finn didn’t reply; he just squeezed me tighter.
We hugged each other for a few minutes until I got myself together and stepped back. Not wanting to see the empathy in his eyes, I looked around the restaurant. The restaurant I’d only been able to buy because of Jamie’s life insurance money.
“Do you think he’d have liked it?”
Finn threw his arm over my shoulders. “He’d have loved it. And he’d be so proud of you.”
“This was the one item on his list that wasn’t just for him.”
“I think you’re wrong about that. I think this was for him. Making your dreams come true was Jamie’s greatest joy.”
I smiled. Finn was right. Jamie would have been so excited about this place. Yes, it was my dream, but it would have been his too.
Wiping my eyes one last time, I put the journal away. “I’d better get my stuff done so I can get to that class.”
“Call me afterward if you need to. I’ll just be home. Alone.”
“Like I said, you could always go eat dinner with your family.” He shot me a glare and I held up my hands. “Just an idea.”
Finn kissed my cheek and took another long drink of his coffee. “I’m going to go.”
“But you’re coming by tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Proud of you, sis.”
I was proud of me too. “Thanks.”
We walked together to the door, then I locked it behind him before rushing back to the kitchen. I dove into my cooking, making a tray of quiches that would sit overnight in the refrigerator and bake fresh in the morning. When my watch dinged the minute after I’d slid the tray into the fridge, I took a deep breath.
Karate.
I was going to karate tonight. I had no desire to try martial arts, but I would. For Jamie.
So I hurried to the bathroom, trading my jeans and white top for black leggings and a maroon sports tank. I tied my long red hair into a ponytail that hung past my sports bra before stepping into my charcoal tennis shoes and heading out the back.
It didn’t take me long to drive my green sedan to the karate school. Bozeman was the fastest-growing town in Montana and it had changed a lot since I’d moved here for college, but it still didn’t take more than twenty minutes to get from one end to the other—especially in June, when college was out for the summer.
By the time I parked in the lot, my stomach was in a knot. With shaking hands, I got out of my car and went inside the gray brick building.
“Hi!” A blond teenager greeted me from behind the reception counter. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen and she had a black belt tied around her white uniform.
“Hi,” I breathed.
“Are you here to try a class?”
I nodded and found my voice. “Yes, I called earlier this week. I can’t remember who I talked to but he told me I could just come over tonight and give it a shot.”
“Awesome! Let me get you a waiver. One sec.” She disappeared into the office behind the reception counter.
I took the free moment to look around. Trophies filled the shelves behind the counter. Framed certificates written in both English and Japanese hung on the walls in neat columns. Pictures of happy students were scattered around the rest of the lobby.
Past the reception area was a wide platform filled with parents sitting on folding chairs. Proud moms and dads were facing a long glass window that overlooked a classroom of kids. Beyond the glass, little ones in white uniforms and yellow belts were practicing punches and kicks—some more coordinated than others but all quite adorable.
“Here you go.” The blond teenager returned with a small stack of papers and a pen.
“Thanks.” I got to work, filling out my name and signing the necessary waivers, then handed them back. “Do I need to, um, change?” I glanced down at my gym clothes, feeling out of place next to all the white uniforms.
“You’re fine for tonight. You can just wear that, and if you decide to sign up for more classes, we can get you a gi.” She tugged on the lapel of her uniform. “Let me give you a quick tour.”
I took a deep breath, smiling at some of the parents as they turned and noticed me. Then I met the girl on the other side of the reception counter and followed her through an archway to a waiting room. She walked straight past the open area and directly through the door marked Ladies.
“You can use any of the hooks and hangers. We don’t wear shoes in the dojo, so you can leave those in a cubby with your keys. There aren’t any lockers, as you can see,” she laughed, “but no one will steal anything from you. Not here.”
“Okay.” I toed off my shoes and put them in a free cubby with my car keys.
Damn it. I should have painted my toenails. The red I’d chosen weeks ago was now chipped and dull.
“I’m Olivia, by the way.” She leaned closer to whisper. “When we’re in here, you can just call me Olivia, but when we’re in the waiting area or dojo, you should always call me Olivia Sensei.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
“It’ll just be a few more minutes until the kids’ class is done.” Olivia led me back out to
