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latest with Anita or one of the many regular twentysomethings who loved to come in and chitchat with her young employee. Peri had a great ability to turn customers into friends, Georgia had noticed.

And, secretly, she loved to hear about Peri's crew of
friends and their forays to champagne bars and speed dating and winter skating
at Wollman Rink. Georgia remembered times like that,
too, when she'd skip breakfast, allot $1.35 for lunch (a nutrient-lacking pack
of red Twizzlers and a can of root beer), and eat
just a slice for dinner; pocketing her so-called food money until she and the
other assistants went off to Webster Hall or some other club on the weekend.
Yeah, she'd had many a night when she walked all the way uptown in the cold
because she couldn't afford the buck for the subway, not sorry to be going home
with empty pockets and hazy, beer-soaked memories of fun. Then she'd met James
and settled into a cozy sort of domesticity that seemed so natural at the time.
It had to be love, right? Now she recognized it for the playing house that it
was. Had they ever sat down to pay the bills? Argued about cleaning the toilet?
No, they ordered in pizza and had great sex and laughed and watched movies.
That's what monogamy meant to her when she was twenty-four: watching movies on
the VCR instead of going out to the Cineplex. When she was with James, she
splurged on taxis she couldn't afford and pricey designer shoes (but quality
lasts—she still had those cowboy boots and wore them damn often, thank you very
much) and gobbled up smoked salmon when she would have been smarter to buy a
case of tuna fish. Sure, she had her worries then (the demanding boss and
uncertain prospects for promotion, natch ) but all was
overshadowed by her confidence in a bright personal future and a partnership
that would sustain her.

Ha! She gave up on love after James. No, that slimeball didn't just break her heart; she held him responsible for stealing her ability
to trust. Georgia hadn't been in a serious romantic relationship since James
had returned the sweaters and toothbrush she had left at his place. Hell, she
wasn't even good at making friends—just friends—with either sex, especially
with people her own age. "I'm stunted," she once told her longtime
friend K.C., who was bemoaning her own latest sexual misadventure. She met Anita
when she was pregnant; she found her current apartment above Marty's deli
around the same time. And when Dakota arrived on the scene a few months
later…well, that was it for new people. In the shop, Georgia was knowledgeable,
professional, friendly, definitely welcoming. In that running-a-business kind
of way. She could talk your ear off about stitches. But chitchat? Georgia
always hung back, letting Anita—and then Peri —get to
know the names of pets, spouses, in-laws. Ms. Walker was a listener, not a sharer.
Which made her, by her very nature, just that little bit lonely.
    * * *
    There it was. Georgia Walker was lonely.
    * * *
    And so having Peri around, day in and day out, was like drinking a cool glass of water on a steamy
New York–style summer day. More than refreshing. Life-sustaining.

Still, after a year had passed since Peri arrived at
Walker and Daughter, Georgia's maternal instinct kicked into high gear and she
decided it was time to sit Peri down for a big talk.
She had a place at the shop, to be sure, but was that what she wanted? And then Peri came out with it: she had designs on becoming
the next Kate Spade and had been secretly taking fashion marketing classes at
FIT all along. She worked during the day and went to school at night. She had
even registered a URL—Peripocketbook.com—that was idling while she figured out
how to build a damned Web site. (She was taking a class on that, too, and had
offered to create a separate one for the shop at Walkeranddaughter.com.) Oh,
she had plans, all right, Georgia needn't worry about that—but Peri knew her parents would want her to take a more