Chapter 31
31
The last time Elsie met with her dad about the store’s marketing, it was admittedly a bit of an ambush. That had seemed like the only way to make him listen, and it still didn’t work. This time, she told him what the meeting was going to be about and didn’t back down when he sighed at her.
This time, she doesn’t bring sandwiches; she brings a slide deck.
She does it first thing in the morning, as soon as the store opens. Any later would give nerves too much time to eat her alive. There’s no office or conference room or anything where she could project a slideshow, so even though they’re in the same room, she shares her laptop screen to her dad’s computer so they can look at the slides at the same time.
Her presentation starts with the basics. Danielle swore Elsie had done a good job distilling her old notes and research into easily digestible bits of info. Her dad needs to understand the marketing principles and theory before Elsie tries to sell him on her actual ideas. She encourages him to ask questions as she goes, and he actually does—not even in a gotcha way, but in a way where he genuinely seems interested.
“Now, if we were a big chain store, we would’ve hired another company to figure everything out for us,” Elsie says. “They would’ve done staff and customer interviews. There would’ve been anonymous surveys. I’m sure we could learn something from that. But we also already know the most important stuff.”
Her next slide is a picture of the legal pad she brainstormed on last week. Her dad smiles as he reads her handwriting, perfectly straight even though she was writing as fast as she could. Ms. Bern had really emphasized penmanship in third grade.
“This list was my starting point.” She’s already explained the highlights of brand identity and logo design. “The next slide is a potential logo. I’ll explain the elements and my reasoning behind them. Obviously we can use an actual graphic designer to tinker with it. This is not anything final. But first, I just want you to sit with it for a while.”
Elsie clicks to the next slide, then sets a timer on her phone. She gives her dad an entire minute to look at the logo. Sixty seconds doesn’t sound like that long, but silently watching your dad, who is also your boss, look at something you did for work? It’s all Elsie can do to sit still. She doesn’t even let herself tap her foot.
Her brain searches for distraction and lands on Ginny.
It’s Palentine’s Day. Their holiday. Elsie always texts Ginny on Palentine’s Day. Even though they’re taking space, Ginny said that didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends. Sure, neither of them has texted since, but maybe Elsie could. It wouldn’t be crossing any boundaries. If they can still be friends, Elsie can text. And after talking it through with Danielle earlier this week, that’s what Elsie wants: to be friends.
It’s scary not to know if Ginny wants that. Maybe time apart made Ginny realize they don’t need her, don’t miss her, are better off without her. That would be okay. Or—it’d be horrible, actually. Even having not talked in weeks, Elsie has never accepted the possibility of never again having Ginny in her life. But she would be okay. She knows that now. She can figure things out on her own.
Elsie’s phone buzzes on her thigh, the timer going off. She blinks away thoughts of Ginny and looks at her dad, who’s smiling at her. Elsie holds up a hand.
“Don’t say anything yet,” she instructs him. “I want you to write down your initial thoughts. Just for yourself—nothing you’re going to have to show anyone else, so don’t worry about complete sentences or being nice or anything.”
She resets the timer.
Her dad only writes for thirty seconds. “Can’t I just tell you I like it instead of writing this down?”
Elsie sucks in a breath. “Really?”
“I’m not saying it’s perfect,” he says, “and I want to hear your explanation of the elements or whatever. But I do like it.”
That’s about the best reaction Elsie could’ve hoped for.
She explains her process. Keeping some history while embracing change. She shows him the versatility of the new look—how the navy blue and yellow work on a white background, but they could also do it solely in navy, or yellow on a navy background. That the two H s with the yellow roof on top work as their own element. He nods along as she talks.
“This is just the first step,” she says. “We’d need to refresh our visual brand everywhere and make things consistent throughout the store.”
She shows him aisle markers in the sans serif font that matches the logo, as well as options for temporary displays in the original cursive.
“How much is this all going to cost me?” he asks.
Elsie was prepared for this question. Not with numbers, but with attitude.
“I considered using the budget that’s been growing since I graduated,” she says. “I wasn’t sure you’d listen, so I thought about buying the new signage before telling you. But remember this?” She clicks back to the slide with the legal pad and reads one of her brainstormed attributes of the store. “ Family. We are family owned and operated. I don’t care about this stuff because brands and marketing and hardware stores are important to me. I care about this because Hoffman Hardware is important to me. I wanted this to be something we decide together.”
It’s the right answer, like she knew it would be. Not that that’s the only reason she said it—she’s being honest, not manipulative. But the way her dad tries to hide his smile shows her she’s won.
“Okay, well,” he says, “get me some quotes. We’ll go from there.”
She did it. She made her dad see reason when it came to a brand refresh. He actually listened to her. If she can do that, she can do anything.
As Elsie heads to the register to replace her mom, she gets her phone out.