Chapter 5 #2
“That’s all it takes. Also, stop with all the rules and stipulations and coloring perfectly between the lines. Scribble some. Make mistakes. Fall in love with your life again.” She hops off the counter and moves to straighten a few pairs of sunglasses on the back wall.
“I really needed that pep talk.” I stand with a smile.
“What are besties for?” She grins over her shoulder. “Keep me updated.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“Just know I’m invested. Maybe as much as the Bees.”
I groan but laugh. “Don’t wish their wrath upon me. Apparently, they’re trying to help four couples find love this summer.”
“Ew,” she says. “Better you on their list than me.”
“No! Anyway, I gotta go be Carter’s personal shopper.”
“Have fun,” she offers just as a few more customers walk in. “I want all the deets.”
With a wave and a thank-you, I leave Sunshine Surf and walk two blocks up Main Street to the liquor store.
The place is packed with tourists stocking up because the Grand Palm charges twenty dollars for a watered-down cocktail that you need five of to feel anything.
On the top shelf, behind the Don Julio 1942, sits a gold-and-black bottle of Clase Azul Gold.
I pull it forward and smile, knowing it’s one of my personal favorites.
Three hundred dollars, and it won’t disappoint.
I walk around the corner to the end cap that has the expensive imported chocolates and choose my favorite ones. They are twenty bucks each, and I grab five. The total comes to four hundred twenty-three dollars and some change with tax. I put what’s left of his five hundred dollars into the bag.
The walk back is the best part of my day.
Main Street shops are painted in bright neon colors with chalkboard signs out front, advertising daily specials.
A teenager arranges wind chimes outside a gift shop while two younger kids split a snow cone on a wooden bench.
I hear them arguing over who took a bigger bite.
The Rusty Anchor bar has its doors propped open, and music spills onto the sidewalk, where a couple dances badly but doesn’t care.
It’s five o’clock somewhere. Tourists carry shopping bags and wear sunburns, but nobody is in a hurry.
Time moves differently in Coconut Beach, like the island runs on its own clock, and the rest of the world just hasn’t caught up yet. It comes with living the sweet life.
Roaming these streets reminds me of being a teenager. After surfing lessons, Fallon and I would spend our allowance on homemade taffy and cheap silver bracelets that turned our skin green.
Back at the B both are my favorite.
“Rosé.”
She grabs two plastic cups from the cabinet and fills them. She removes the canvas messenger bag from her shoulder and dumps a mesh sack full of shells she collected. The two of us sort them the way we used to decades ago.
“Mia showed me the gorgeous photos she took of the book van at sunrise,” Josie says, separating the keepers from the broken ones. “The Salty Pages Insta is growing so fast. Juniper said they sold out of three different titles by noon.”
“Wow. That’s great.” I take several gulps of wine. “How were sales for you today?”
“Not too bad. I set up my pop-up booth and made jewelry. Do I look approachable?” My sister sounds defeated.
“Yes, of course. I’d speak to you,” I say. “Maybe it was your location. It’s one of the most important things. You should set up somewhere close to Fallon’s. There was a ton of traffic on the boardwalk today when I went and visited her.”
“Thanks, sis. I’ll try that tomorrow.” She holds up a tiny pink shell and squints at it, then moves it to the keep pile before downing her entire glass of wine. “So, how’s the grumpy stranger upstairs?”
“Not sure.”
“Interesting.” She smiles. “Mia and I both want to know more about him. Does he have younger brothers? Friends?”
“Tell Mia I don’t know anything about him, and I’m going to keep it that way.”
“Uh-huh.” Josie picks up another shell. “I talked to Mom today. She said Dad’s taking her to some cabin in Banff for their anniversary. She asked about the B&B, and I told her everything is great.”
“Is it?”
“I mean, you’re here. So, yeah, things are looking up.”
Her words hit me harder than she probably meant them to. Josie hasn’t doubted for one second that I’d save this place. The faith she has in me is the heaviest thing I carry some days.
“Oh, on this week’s episode of Independent Woman, I fixed the water heater today,” I say because I don’t know what else to talk about. “YouTube is a lifesaver.”
“Proof you can do anything.” She refills her plastic cup, along with mine. “Also, I have an idea, and I need you to not say no immediately.”
“That’s never a good start.”
“What if we tried to do a fundraiser or something to cover all the costs for the B&B?”
I take a long drink of rosé. “Josie.”
“You’re so stressed, Wendy. I see it. And people love to support small family businesses.
Seaside has been here for decades, and if we frame it right, we could get donations and maximum visibility for future bookings.
I’ve already started writing down some fun ideas.
Mia said she’ll be happy to help take photos, and Juniper even offered to share an event on the Salty Pages accounts. We can save this, sis.”
“Gran would hate that. You know how she is about charity. She’d say other businesses needed it more. Also, it’s important to her that no one else knows we’re struggling. Mainly because she doesn’t believe we are.”
“So, we don’t package it as a fundraiser. We offer it to her and the public in another way, like a celebration. The Fourth of July is coming up. We could do something then.”
I really appreciate that she wants to help. “I’ll think about it.”
“I know what’s at risk, Wen. At some point, we have to try some different things.” Josie pushes her messy braid off her shoulder and looks at me with warm eyes. “I’m not asking for permission. I’m telling you so you’re not blindsided if I move forward with it.”
I stare at her. This is Josie’s version of taking charge, and as much as it makes me nervous, she’s not wrong. I’ve been doing a lot, and the numbers still aren’t where they need to be, even with Carter’s reservation keeping us afloat.
“Can I look at your plan before you do anything? I really don’t want to upset Gran,” I say.
“Deal.” She beams and takes another drink. “I’ll finish compiling my ideas, then get with you.”
We finish the bottle of rosé while she sorts and tells me about a fight she witnessed between two tourists over a beach umbrella.
“And a lifeguard had to break it up!” She does voices for each character.
By the time she gets to the part where one of them threw a flip-flop, I’m laughing hard enough that I think I might lose control of my bladder.
She offers to open another bottle, but I’m already too tipsy for that.
She packs her shells in her bag and leaves the rejects in a small pile on the counter.
“Love you,” she says, pulling me into a hug that smells like sunscreen.
“Love you too. Hope you sell a hundred bracelets tomorrow.”
“Shit, me too.”
She leaves through the front, and I eventually see her walking toward the beach path. Her bag bounces against her hip.
The sun fades, and the sky turns a dark purple over the water. I sweep the floor, then throw the load of towels in the dryer. Tomorrow morning, I’ll fold them.
By seven p.m., I’ve crossed almost everything off my list. I go upstairs, shower away the day, then change into some silk shorts and a tank top. When I reach for the remote to my TV, I notice the paper bag with Carter’s tequila and chocolate that’s sitting by my door.
The rosé is currently making my decisions. I grab the bag and start climbing the narrow stairs that lead to his room.