36. Alexandra
thirty-six
Barbara gets to Emerald Creek early afternoon. She’s fully embraced her boho side, not trying to hide it under a pencil skirt and a blazer, like she does in New York. Her long, thick hair flows in the wind, her eyes are done smoky but not too much, and on top of her long wool dress there’s a large, gold and silver pendant in the shape of a moon. Multicolor feathers dangle from her ears, and dozens of colorful bracelets clink happily around her wrists. All this is wrapped in a long, brown leather coat with an intricate carving on the back and a bunch of leather laces crisscrossing the front.
Much like Grace had done with me my first day here, I take Barbara on a walk around town as soon as she gets here.
We reach the main covered bridge just as the ice cracks on the river, big blocks of ice breaking free, the water gushing under it. “So beautiful,” she says, leaning on the bridge’s railing as we stand mesmerized at the elements underneath us. “The force of nature. Seasons. The universe talking to us. Telling us to let it go. There’s no resisting it.” Barbara is smitten with Emerald Creek, and I like that.
I show her around like this is my town.
We walk on the other side of the river, back through the second bridge, after catching a glimpse of the lake still white in the distance, the roofs of the resort glistening at the edge.
“I don’t understand why Rita never wanted to come back,” she tells me when we’re settled at Easy Monday.
I glance around nervously. The place is empty, except for Millie “making our day awesome” by fixing our drinks, and Noah, the owner of the general store, who’s here with a man in a suit. They’re far enough away, in deep leather-like couches, seeming to mind their own business, but you never know. That’s three people who can hear us. “Shh. People can hear you.”
“Okay,” she whispers loudly, rolling her eyes. Then, “I wonder where that red barn is.”
“What—oh. From the logo? Do you think it’s from around here?” I whisper back.
She shrugs. “That’s the story. Maybe not.”
Yeah, maybe not. Everything about Red Barn Baking, the company, is so fake. I didn’t use to see it that way. It took coming here to open my eyes. Maybe that was why Rita needed me to come here. To fix things.
I need to talk with Barbara about this, but Easy Monday is probably not the ideal place.
Thankfully, Noah and the other man stand up to leave. Noah trails behind. “Alex, nice to see you,” he says, nodding at Barbara with a smile. He’s handsome and soft spoken, almost to the point of being shy. All I know about him is that his family owns the general store, and he’s the Chairperson of the Chamber of Commerce. “I heard you were looking for some side work. Social media and things? That true?”
My hands flutter with excitement. “Yes! Are you interested? For the store? I love your store. We could do sooo much just with the local products. The leather work gloves, the carved wood, the alpaca sweaters, the maple syrups from several farms. Oh my god and the new pottery line made by Willow’s friend? And then there’s your family, the historic building… I could create content for three years without ever repeating myself!”
He blushes and I realize he’s very young. He always looks so put together. “Yeah, we’re also talking with a glass blower, some young guy starting out. But uh, we wanted to talk to you at the Chamber. We’re looking at ways for businesses to pool their efforts.”
“I love it! Yes, that makes perfect sense. Something cohesive, to bring more visitors to the town.”
“She’s awesome,” Millie says strolling up from behind the counter. “Autumn told me she got three new clients in two weeks just from the posts Alex made on her social accounts! Big jobs too. One of them is a whole house. A second home, owners are from Boston.” Her eyes shine with excitement for Autumn.
Noah nods silently and glances at Barbara, then looks back at me. “I’m sorry to impose. Maybe we can meet later? Everyone’s been talking you up. And we’d rather give the job to someone local.”
Happiness lodges in my heart. Working with small businesses, living in Emerald Creek, sound like a dream life, the stuff fantasies are made of.
After he leaves, Barbara comments. “Hmm. Someone local, huh? So, you’re staying?”
“That’s too much for me to think about at this point.” Like Christopher said, I can’t focus on all the balls I have in the air right now. “First, I need to figure out what to do with Red Barn. That’s all I can think of right now.”
“Holler if you need anything,” Millie calls out from behind the counter. “I’ll be next door.” Next door is 420, the weed shop Millie just opened.
“Let me settle, then,” Barbara offers, rummaging through the pockets of her coat.
“On the house!” Millie says with a hand wave as she leaves.
Now we’re totally alone.
“Okay. Let’s get this out of the way,” Barbara says. “Red Barn. What are your thoughts?”
I take a deep breath to calm down. I have given it some thought, but I’ve been needing someone to brainstorm with. This is my chance to find out if my ideas hold any weight. Any possibility. Here we go. “Down the line, and in a nutshell, each bakery would be owned and operated by a baker. These bakers will automatically become part of a co-op that owns the rest of Red Barn’s assets—the mills, trucks, etc. Red Barn Baking provides training, technical support, and zero-interest loans to buy the bakeries. There would need to be some sort of mechanism to ensure that these bakers follow some quality guidelines, like buying supplies locally as much as possible.”
I take a breath. Barbara hasn’t interrupted me yet. That’s a good sign, right? “We offload the overhead by closing the New York headquarters. Management works from home, with stipends to get set up with a home office. We organize regional training, brainstorming sessions for products that are in tune with local traditions and culture. Our strength is to be locally owned, globally supported.” That’s a hodgepodge of my thoughts, unorganized.
Barbara’s eyes are narrowed on me. “That’s a lot.”
“I know. It’s a total redesign of how we consider bread and food in our society.”
“And where do you fit? What do you see yourself doing at Red Barn once the transformation is complete?”
I’ve already given this a lot of thought, and what Noah said earlier confirmed my decision. “I want out of Red Barn as soon as possible. We’ll need to make that part of the plan of turning the company into a co-op. I see myself in a small town like this one, helping small businesses. That’s what brings me joy.”
Her eyes sparkle. “I like it.”
She likes it? Like, I’m not crazy, pie in the sky?
“But that’s going to take years,” she adds.
Oh no. I’m not spending years working on that. “If we take years, it won’t happen. This needs to be decided immediately. And implemented by the end of the year.”
“The beauty of youth,” she murmurs with a smile on her lips. “How are you going to do that? It sounds like a mix of franchising and co-op.”
The heck if I know. “The only real problem is to find a law firm that will be okay fronting the work without seeing a dime until I take over. We’ll need contracts ready to sign. I’m thinking most of the current store managers will be on board to become owners. It’s just a matter of having the paperwork ready.”
Barbara’s bracelets jingle as she fluffs her hair. “Okay, honey. Time for a reality check. The whole part about turning Red Barn Baking into a co-op, I can still follow. It’s a dream, but it can become a project. Now, asking a lawyer to start working before being paid, that’s a delusion. Not gonna happen. Revise your expectations.”
Wow. That’s a better reaction than I expected. “Okay then. We hire them the day I take over. Can you take care of finding a firm ready to move when it’s done?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Let’s say, I can start sending out feelers.”
“We’ll need a consultant. I don’t want one of those posh firms. I need someone who has personal experience, and vision. And the charisma to carry this out.”
“Someone like Christopher.”
Someone exactly like him. “Yes, except not him. We’ve been over that already.” Christopher would be perfect for the task. If only he weren’t so stubborn about his hatred for Red Barn. Unfortunately, that means I can’t tell him anything before I pass the exam. And once I do?
Just the thought of it twists my stomach.
Barbara takes my hand across the table. “Honey. Don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Exactly what Rita did. Sacrificing yourself for Red Barn. It’s not worth it.”
“I’m not sacrificing myself for Red Barn. I’m doing it—and it’s not a sacrifice—for the people who have been wronged by Red Barn Baking. I’m giving them their livelihood back.”
“It’s a sacrifice. They’re grown-ups. They can look after themselves. You’re all Knight in Shining Armor on a Mission. Why are you doing this to yourself?”
“Because … because… I have no choice!” Can’t she see that? “I can continue running Red Barn Baking the way it’s always been, or I can do some good in the world.”
“Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be lying to Christopher about this,” she says. “He means something to you.”
He does, unfortunately. I’m getting very, very attached. And I’ll deal with it. But that doesn’t mean I need to cut this short now. And because he’ll kick me out of his life the minute he knows who I really am, yeah, I can totally keep that part of my life to myself. “That’s exactly why I can’t tell him, Barb. So I can protect what we have now. Once I do, it’ll be lost. And I’m not really lying to him. I’m just not telling him everything.”
“If he cares about you, that won’t matter to him.”
“You may be right. But it’s too risky.” What if I’m wrong about him? What if he judges me and lets me go? Everything would be ruined.
She doesn’t like it. She ums and groans and shifts in her chair.
“He’s better off not knowing for now. I mean, we have this arrangement, it suits him. Why ruin it?”
“But does it suit you?” she presses.
“Of course!” I don’t have a choice, do I? I throw her a bone. “The sex is great.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “I can tell. You look fabulous.”
And on that note, we go to the resort, where she’s decided to stay. “It’s off the beaten path,” she declares when I ask her why she didn’t stay in town. “I need to reconnect with nature.”
Good thing that’s her plan, because the resort is in dire need of TLC. But it’s a sprawling property on the lake, with a view of the village in the background. If she’s planning on spending time outdoors, this is the place to be.
“I wish you’d taken the board’s offer. I bet you still could,” she says out of the blue, while we’re walking outside once she’s all checked in.
I stop in my tracks. Has she not been listening? I’ve finally been offered a chance to make a contribution to society. To make a difference for my family business. Why would I let that go? I’ve come this far, I’m not crawling back to Robert Norwood with my hand stretched out. No way. “Barbara,” I say softly, “this is my destiny. We rarely get to choose what we’re given. But we can choose what we do with it. I’ve been given the opportunity to so some good in the world, and I’m taking it.”
Later that evening, we meet at Lazy’s for dinner. She’d suggested something fancier, but I said, “First dinner in Emerald Creek needs to be at Lazy’s. That’s a rule.”
And so we’re seated at a booth in the back when I ask, “Tell me about this guy Jerry.” I’m tired of talking about me. I need some gossip on Barbara.
“I met Jerry a few months ago, when your grandmother was diagnosed. She asked me to find him.”
“Find him? Is he an oncologist?”
“He’s… your mom’s father.”
Jerry is my mom’s father? Rita asked Barbara to find him when she was on her deathbed? So my mom’s father—my grandfather—is no longer some shadow figure from the past? As in, I could meet him? I’m elated.
Wait. Jerry, Barbara’s lover, is my mom’s father? I’m horrified. “Are you saying you’re shagging my grandfather?”
“Do people still use that word?” Barbara frowns.
“It’s gross!”
“Not a fan of that word either. It makes it sound like less than what it is.” Her eyes turn dreamy.
And then it hits me, and I’m deliriously happy. For myself. For Barbara too, but for myself first, selfishly. I squeal, then giggle nervously. “When can I meet him? Where is he? Why didn’t you bring him here?”
“He’s uh… He’s taking his time.”
I can barely contain my shriek. “Taking his time? He’s like, fifty years taking his time.” That doesn’t make sense at all. “How long have you been together? Like, did they split up because of you?” Oh my god that’s totally it. He loved both women and couldn’t make a choice. “Are you his other woman?” Horror again.
“Boy! You’ve got quite an imagination. I met Jerry when your grandmother was diagnosed. I told you. She asked me to find him for her.”
Right. She did say that. I forgot already. Ohmygod my world is swirling. Does she not see how wonderful this is? I’m bound to lose track of the details. Still, I can’t pass on the opportunity of a jab at Rita. “Sounds like her. Asking you to do her dirty work.”
Barbara waves the concern away in a jingle of bracelets. “Honey, she was terminally ill. It put things in perspective for her. Also, it kind of drained her energy.”
“So did they meet? How was it?”
“They met, oh, a couple of months before she died. He came to New York. It was awkward and sad. They were two very different people.”
“And he didn’t think to meet me? When he was in New York?”
“He did. He carries a lot of guilt too. I’m helping him through it.”
He was not my dad, he was my grandfather, and I never missed or imagined him materializing at our front door like I used to with my father. Jerry had never been a concern for me, except when Mom met him, and she was real happy. I thought I would get that happy, too, someday, meeting my own dad.
“He met Mom once—that I know of,” I say, remembering those weeks before she died.
Barbara nods slowly. “He’s dealing with this too. Letting Rita get away with taking their child. Not doing the right thing.”
If Barbara is with him, he has to be a good guy. I need to give him the benefit of the doubt. “What ever happened between them?”
“They were very young. The pregnancy was unplanned, of course. And his parents didn’t approve. The town turned against her. She was a nobody, and they blamed her for getting pregnant. His family came from money, hers didn’t. They put pressure on him to let her go, gave her some money in exchange for leaving. She took the money and never looked back.
“I met her shortly after, when she was in Brooklyn, baking from her kitchen, selling to local stores. He didn’t try to reach out, not at first. And when he did, she pushed him away. Got a restraining order on him, although according to him, he hasn’t done anything wrong. But by that time, the roles were reversed. Now Rita was a respected member of the Greater New York business community, while in New York, Jerry was a hick from Vermont. She struck back, and it stung. She never forgave him.”
“Until she was on her deathbed.”
“You know, I don’t think her reaching out to him was about forgiveness. It was more about taking care of loose ends.”
Not surprised. Rita was not into forgiving. She’d need to have a minimum of empathy for that. I can bear testament to the fact that she had none. “What loose ends?”
Barbara sighs. “That’s not a good choice of words, but… yeah. They discussed you. Rita wanted you to have him in your life.”
“That makes no sense at all. She hated men. She hated him.”
“Maybe that actually was her way of forgiving, in the end? Of fixing things? She knew she’d screwed up with you, not being able to build a connection with you. She knew you wanted a family. She was trying to give you that.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?” The words are so hard to come out, it’s barely a whisper. The injustice of being deprived of my family is making me want to scream, yet the only sound that comes out is thin as air. I can’t breathe.
“Why do we even ask ”why’ when it comes to Rita?” Barbara says, and it’s true.
I shake the frustration away. “You’re totally screwing my grandfather. That’s the most horrific and wonderful news I’ve had in a long, long time. And you kept it from me!” I give her forearm a gentle slap.
And that’s when I smell his manly scent before I hear him, and my body does its normal thing in his presence. Limbs mush, middle ablaze. My mind, though, freezes. Did he hear what I just said?
“I’m Christopher Wright,” he says as he extends his hand to Barbara. “Does that mean I can call you Grandma?” He totally heard what I said. His grin does nothing to soothe the panic I feel rising. I do not want to talk about my grandfather, because I do not want to talk about my grandmother with Christopher. Not yet. I spot Skye in the back, petting Moose. At least she didn’t hear that.
“Does that mean you’re marrying my Lexie?” Barbara answers without missing a beat.
Ohmygod what is going on right now?
“What are you doing?” I ask both of them, hissing. “Is this a prank? Do you know each other?”
Christopher winks at me. “Relax, pancakes, we’re just pulling your leg.”
“Yeah,” Barbara cackles. “No way he’s calling me Grandma.”
“You don’t look like a grandma.” This is coming from Justin, who brings a cheese and charcuterie board large enough to cover half the table, and plops himself next to Barbara. “This guy doesn’t know how to talk to ladies,” he adds, pointing to Christopher. “And that’s why—”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Christopher cuts in.
“Testy,” Justin says, wiggling his eyebrows at Barbara.
“You think?” she says, giggling.
And just like that, she’s part of the group.