If It Makes You Happy

by Julie Olivia

Those are the traits of someone who inherits a beloved bed-and-breakfast—not the frigid eldest daughter. Not like I wanted it anyway.

Copper Run isn’t even remotely as cold as it will be in future months. It’s the beginning of September, and the leaves have begun shifting from summer greens to deep auburn and burnished golds.

Carol would be a cannoli. When you take a bite of a perfect cannoli—even though it’s perfect—it cracks apart, and all that’s left is a gooey center. Carol is always on the verge of showing her soft side.

I’ve worked very hard to be in a position where people do what I tell them.

Cliff Burke, with his veined hands raking through loose brown hair. Cliff Burke, with his crooked smile and deep laugh. Cliff Burke, who doesn’t understand personal space.

He’s so different from me. If I’m autumn, he’s spring. He’s all smiles and glowing warmth. His blue eyes are so deep, like the first beautiful clear sky of the season. He likes to rest them on my breeze-blown hair, drift them down to my painted lips or to the cardigan falling off my shoulder.

The world tilts. It suddenly feels like I’m falling through the ground, straight to the center of the earth. God, she’s breathtaking.

if you wanna find Michelle, you might as well look for Cliff too. You two are always in the same spot.”

And it hits me. I love this woman. I don’t know when it happened. It slipped over me so softly, like the changing of seasons. The seeping scent of baked bread first thing in the morning. A wistful sigh on a perfect fall day.