6. Everett
Everett
Today is the day I am meeting with the realtor to do a walk-through of the theater. Part of me is nervous since the place is so old. I know there will be some things that are wrong with it, and I’m just hoping for nothing serious.
There are still a few hours until I meet her, and I don’t feel like just hanging out around the house.
I’ll go into town and do some work for the theater. I wouldn’t mind bumping into Violet again; she’s such a ray of sunshine.
I hop in my rusty old pick-up truck and head into town. Main Street seems busier than usual today. It is Sunday, so I guess people are still out and about for the weekend. I park my truck on a side street and head toward the café, hoping that it’s not too busy there and I can grab a table.
Thankfully, there are a couple available.
I head over there, put my notebook and pen down, and then go line up.
I am keeping my eyes open for Violet. I only talked to her once, but I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind.
It’s not just the way her hair catches the light or the freckles dancing across her nose.
It’s the way she moves through the café, calm and confident, like she owns every corner of it without needing anyone to notice.
Her laughter, easy and unguarded, has a way of lingering in the air after it’s left her lips.
There is that subtle fire behind her eyes, like she has seen things and has decided to carve her own way through this world.
The cashier looks at me and calls me to the counter; I walk up and order my drink.
I get a bigger size than usual as I have a busy day, and I add on a blueberry scone since those are so good.
I head to the table and sit facing the door so I can see who comes in and out, keeping my eyes open for her.
It doesn’t take me long to focus on what I came here to do.
Before I know it, I have a few pages of what I want to do with the theater, what to add, what I think I need to fix, and what I currently like.
It’s important to me to preserve the building’s integrity, maintaining its nostalgia for those of us who grew up with it, while also making it modern enough that kids these days would want to go, too.
I’m hunched over my notebook at one of the small tables, sketching ideas for the theater, seating, renovations, lighting, all of it. Getting my thoughts down on paper. The coffee smells like heaven, and then… Violet’s voice breaks my focus.
“Well, well, well, look who’s pretending to be busy,” she says, standing across from me. “All those notes look like you’re running for mayor or something.”
I look up and grin. “Not exactly. I’m making plans to save the town theater. Big plans, ambitious but exciting.”
Her eyebrows lift, like she’s interested. “You’re buying the theater?”
“Yep, I figured it’s time to bring it back to life. Classic five-screen theater. It needs a lot of TLC, and I am just the guy to do it.”
She glances down at my notebook. “What kind of ideas?”
I like that she is curious.
I gesture to the seat across from me for her to sit. She takes her jacket off and lays it over the back of the chair and pulls the seat into the table as she sits.
“Well the theater needs updated seats, those things are falling apart, I want to update the concession stand too, bringing in some local businesses would be a good idea too I think,” I explain, reaching for my coffee and taking a sip as she smiles and nods in agreement.
“I love the idea of bringing in local businesses, helps the town out and shows how close knit Lavender Creek is,” Violet says as she brushes a piece of hair behind her ear. “What else are you planning?”
“I would like to have a mini arcade. Maybe a photo booth. And I want to have community events as well.”
“These are all really good ideas. I’m glad that you bought the place and not some hot shot from the big city who would tear it down. We all have so many memories there growing up and now others will get to experience that as well,” she says, smiling at me with those beautiful blue eyes.
“So I have your approval?” I ask her with a chuckle.
“You do,” she responds as she stands up. “Just know I’ll be watching to make sure you don’t mess up.” She winks at me.
“What a drag that would be.”
“I’d love to chat more about it,” she says. “But right now, I do have work in my office calling my name.”
“I’ll leave you to your empire. Someone has to keep the coffee flowing,” I say, smiling.
“I’m very organized,” she says. “If you ever want to upgrade that notebook with your doodles, let me know,” she chuckles.
I grin at her. “Noted. But I also have to run. My realtor is waiting for me to check out the theater. Big day.”
“Save the town’s culture while I make sure everyone gets their morning latte. Don’t forget about us little people when you’re famous,” she says, grinning.
“I won’t,” I say, standing up. “But don’t be surprised if I need your opinion on décor. This café looks great.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she says, laughing. “Go save our theater, don’t let me distract you.”
I head for the door, glancing back one last time. There is something about the way she moves, the teasing in her smile, that makes me want to stick around longer.
But duty calls.
The theater is just a block away from the café. I walk up to the peeling paint, crooked letters, and cracked windows.
As I arrive, a woman dressed in business clothes gets out of a car, walking toward me. I assume it's the realtor, Sarah.
“Everett?” she asks as she approaches me.
I hold out my hand to shake hers. “Hi, Sarah, yes, I am Everett, it’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s great to meet you, too,” she greets. “Are you ready for the walk-through?”
“Absolutely,” I reply.
Henry told me that Sarah has been in Lavender Creek long enough to know everyone. It sounds like she moved here shortly after I left. She knows everyone and every building, which is perfect for her job.
“Follow me,” she says, opening the door. “Just so you know, this place has…personality.”
I chuckle, stepping inside. The lobby smells of old carpet and popcorn, the lights flickering as I walk through. The ticket counter is scratched and dented. Nothing a little paint and polish can’t fix up.
“See?” Sarah gestures to the rows of old red seats, the fabric faded, and some seats are ripped.
I run my hand over them. “There is character here, I don’t want to erase it all. It tells a story.”
Sarah nods. “That’s the thing about small towns. People love history. They hate it when you tear it all down. You want a modern theater without losing the soul.”
I make a mental note as I walk through the rooms. Old projectors, some cracked screens. It’s rough, but I can see the potential. A little paint, new seating, and some updated lighting. Nothing fancy, just enough to bring it into the twenty-first century without losing that cozy charm.
“This place needs a ton of work,” I say. “But there’s a reason people love it; it’s a staple.”
Sarah smiles. “Exactly, and since it’s been around forever, people are invested. If you renovate it right, and keep the charm, you’ll have people lining up on opening night.”
I walk toward the concession stand. The popcorn machine is still there. I imagine the smell through the lobby.
“And back here is the office and staff room.” She gestures down a hall. The paint is chipped, and the wallpaper is peeling. The rooms are small but workable. I imagine a table and chairs. Maybe a bulletin board with all the showtimes and upcoming events for the staff.
“I can see you already planning renovations in your mind,” Sarah says.
I take a step back and look around at the whole theater. The lobby, the screens, the concession stand. It’s run down, but it’s history. It doesn’t have to be fancy.
“I want to keep the charm,” I tell Sarah. “The history, but I want to make it something people can be proud of again. How it used to be.”
She nods, writing some notes on her clipboard. “Everett, you know this town. If anyone can do it, it’s you. Just be prepared for a lot of work.”
I grin, looking around one last time. “It’s lucky I like hard work. I’m ready.”
The first Monday of the month is town meeting day, and since I’m a business owner now, I figure it’s time to start showing my face. Good for introductions, good for rebuilding whatever reputation I left behind. Plus, now that the theater is mine, it feels like the right time to plant some roots.
I leave the house a little late, dinner with Mom and Henry ran over, and I am already picturing the judging eyes I will walk into at the community center.
The meetings are held in the big open room used for any show or production the town has.
Folding chairs are lined up in neat rows, with a little stage at the front. It’s simple and functional.
As I slip in through the door, scanning the room, my eyes find just one empty seat, in the left section, right beside Violet.
“Is anyone sitting here?” I ask, keeping my voice low and tone casual, even though my stomach tightens.
She looks up, flashing a smile. “Nope, all yours, best seat in the house.”
“Oh, and why is that?” I ask.
“Because it’s next to me.” She turns her head to me and smiles.
Sitting down beside her feels oddly normal. Steam rises from the coffee in her hands, and faint freckles are sprinkled across her nose.
The meeting begins, and people discuss town improvements, ideas, complaints, and celebrations. When the floor opens for new speakers, I stand up.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Everett Callahan. I just moved back and purchased the theater. I’m excited to bring it back to life, modernize it a little while still keeping the charm. And hopefully provide a place for you to enjoy it for years to come.”
There are nods and smiles, a few skeptical looks, understandable, it’s a small town. But mostly supportive murmurs. Julia from the general store immediately suggests a fundraiser to help repair the building. A fundraiser, I like that idea. It’s a community event everyone can be a part of.
After the meeting, groups of people gather to talk. My eyes find Violet again, standing behind a small table she’s set up with muffins, donuts, and coffee. I make my way over.
“Thanks for bringing the snacks and coffee,” I say.
“It’s the least I can do. People can get crabby without their coffee, and that would be detrimental to a town meeting,” she says, chuckling.
Just as I am about to say something, someone calls her name. “Hey Vi, how was the meeting?”
“Lily, this is Everett. Everett, this is my sister, Lily.”
“You’ll have to excuse me, I’ve heard all sorts of things about you,” Lily says with a mischievous look in her eye as she shakes my hand.
“Good things, I hope?” I ask.
“You’ll never know,” she says, winking.
Violet steps toward us. “Everett just bought the theater and he’s going to renovate it. Julia suggested a fundraiser to help with the costs.”
Lily looks at Violet, then at me, and back to Violet. “Vi, why don’t you help organize the fundraiser. You know everyone in town, and your café is such a success, I’m sure Everett would love to pick your brain.”
Sensing a little tension, I add, “Actually, that would be perfect. I’m not the most organized guy. Having someone like you would be more than helpful,” I say to Violet.
Grinning, Violet answers, “I don’t usually babysit men with big plans.”
I laugh. “Oh, it’s not babysitting. Think of it as creative collaboration.”
Violet rolls her eyes, but that smile can’t be hidden. I catch Violet giving Lily the eye, a silent, “How dare you!”
“Well, if you think you can handle me, I suppose I can help,” she says.
“Excellent, I’ll hold you to that,” I say, winking at her, grinning like a kid.
Lily claps her hands together, her voice cheery. “Looks like my work here is done.” She waves and leaves, turning back once to glance at us.
When Violet catches my eye, the rest of the room fades. “So, when should we start this fundraiser planning?” she asks.
“Whenever you’re free, Violet. I’ll follow your lead,” I reply.
She smirks and shakes her head. “You might regret that,” she says softly, but I know I won’t.