Too bad sleeping with him would solve nothing, and it wouldn't get him any closer to finding a wife. If anything, it'd probably only distract him.
Lana had stopped painting. She stared at her phone with a sigh, a distant, thoughtful look in her eyes.
“What's the matter with you?”
“Mom wants to adopt another kid. She told me last night.”
“Huh? But she's already adopted five, including you. And no offense, but aren't she and your dad getting kind of old?”
She laughed. “Try telling them that. I honestly think she's trying to collect a kid from every continent. I've got siblings from Ethiopia, Brazil, Korea, Haiti. Somehow I'm the only American of the bunch. You can imagine how that was for me growing up.”
Aunt Emma and my uncle, Rocky, put the Brady Bunch to shame. When she was younger, doctors said that having kids of her own just wasn't in the cards. So, like many hopeful parents, they chose to adopt.
But unlike others, they didn't stop at one or two. Lana was their first; her biological mother had decided buying drugs was more important than formula for her baby. The others followed soon after, one every year – but the Westers hadn't adopted in a long time, and we all figured they were finally done.
“This is him.” She showed me a photo of a boy on her phone. “His name is Elias, from Afghanistan. Nine years old. He lost a leg and his hand when a roadside bomb exploded. Both of his parents were killed in the war.”
The boy had dark eyes, too dark for a child of his young age. He did not smile as he stared directly at the camera in a somewhat unsettling way. The limbs he had lost had been replaced by cheap-looking prosthetics.
“Wow. That's a lot of crap to go through so early in life.”
She nodded. “When I was a kid, I begged mom not to adopt any more children. Hated sharing my room, my toys, clothes, everything. But now... She wants Elias to come home so bad, and I wish I could help her.”
A man waited at the counter to pay for his selection, a weathered wooden rocking horse from decades past. I rang him up and returned to Lana.
“So what's the problem?”
“Money,” she admitted. “Elias is something of a problem child, so to speak. He's been shuffled from one orphanage to the next, between foster homes, you name it. He's at a home now, and it's gonna take thousands of dollars to get him out. Probably thousands more for the therapy and medical care he needs.”
My aunt and uncle weren't exactly wealthy, especially not after raising five kids. Emma was a hair stylist, and Rocky worked as a mechanic, so neither of them were rolling in cash. Unless they had a massive savings account, getting Elias wouldn't be a simple matter.
“It's sad,” I said. “There are so many children without families, and plenty of people with loving homes for them – yet money and red tape keeps them apart.”
“I'm doing all I can, and so are my brothers and sisters. The ones old enough have gotten a part-time job to help out. I've been giving mom part of my paycheck too.”
Suddenly, I felt sick. If things kept on as they were, with yet another slow sales season, how could I afford to keep paying Lana what she was worth? Would I even be able to keep the store open?
And if Asher didn't get hitched, I'd be screwed no matter what.
I hadn't planned on telling her just how much trouble the business was in. But I owed her that, didn't I? I had to give her the chance to quit and find a real job, one that paid her better than minimum wage.
“So anyway, I was wondering if I could pick up some extra hours. I could really use them, as you can see.”
The way she looked at me, pleading and hopeful, hurt my heart. Time to be honest with her.
“Lana, I have to tell you something – but promise me you won't tell anyone else.”
“Of course not. What is it?”
“It's... It's Asher,” I said, a lump in my throat. “If he doesn't get married by New Year's Day, his father, Heath, will shut down his business.”
She tilted her head, confused. “But wouldn't him losing his store be a good thing for us? Less competition, and we can steal his customers.”
“Something to do with a contract Asher signed. The store really belongs to his dad, who refuses to let him keep it unless he finds a wife.”
“And I thought my family was dysfunctional.”
“It's not just his store he'll lose. Heath owns the land it sits on – which, incidentally, Hazel's Curiosities sits on too. He plans to take it all back and put down a mall instead.”
Her eyes glazed over as she put the pieces together. Then she clutched my arm so hard that her nails dug into my flesh.
“Wait up. You're saying you'll lose the business if Asher doesn't get married? What the hell? That can't be legal!”
“His lawyer said it was legit. I can't believe the shop sat on Carrington land all this time, and we never knew it.”
She gazed at her paint palette and slowly stirred the colors as she tried not to cry.
“S-so what's he going to do, then? Is he going to find himself a wife? No, impossible. He's slept with hundreds of women; Asher's the last man on Earth who'd settle down with just one.”
“I know. That's why I said I'd help him.”
She gave me an incredulous look. “You're gonna help him? I thought you hated him.”
“I don't hate him, just his man-whoring lifestyle. And you know he's never going to find a bride on his own. If I don't
