Chapter 36 #2
Mom hesitates for the briefest of seconds. “Walt is coming with me to puzzle club again this week. You don’t need to drive me. He’s picking me up.”
How interesting…
“And he invited me over to his house this weekend to do a new puzzle he just got in the mail. He’s part of a puzzle subscription service, where as soon as you complete a puzzle, they send you a new one.
Isn’t that clever?” Mom’s mouth curves into a little smile of anticipation as we walk side by side down Front Street toward our storefront.
“This time they sent him a very tricky one, all ferns in shades of green. We’re going to sit on his back deck and listen to a true crime podcast and try to complete the puzzle.
Apparently that’s what he does every Sunday, listens to a podcast and completes a puzzle. ”
“But you don’t like true crime,” I point out. “It’s too violent for you.”
Mom smiles again, a secret little smile. “Well, it’s never too late to try new things,” she says. “Who knows, you might find out you like something you thought you loathed for years!” And then she breezes into Dot’s shop, Mr. Butters in tow, leaving me standing gape-jawed on the sidewalk.
I linger for a moment in front of our shop, creasing the folds of the offer letter in my hands, thinking over the implications.
Mom is letting me make this decision, and it’s a big one.
If we sold, we could afford…so much. The repairs on the house that we’ve been putting off forever.
I could afford the proper equipment I’ve been longing to buy for years.
Walt would cover the very steep cost to upgrade the building.
It’s a very appealing thought. But is it the right one?
I pull out the list and look at the second item.
To-Do List
· Henry + Emmie fall in love
· Chocolate shop
· Yellow dress the right yellow dress that fits!
· Engagement ring + proposal
I unlock the door and wander through the store, hearing echoes of my dad’s voice.
Everywhere I look I can see him. He swings me high in the air, my blonde pigtails twirling, then he passes me a butterscotch candy, his favorite and mine, when my mom isn’t looking.
He kept them in his pocket and would give one to any kid who came into the store and couldn’t afford to buy anything.
He went through pounds of them a year because he was always eating them and giving them away.
There are so many decades of memories in this space.
Gus took his first steps right there by the window, and promptly crashed into a stand of licorice and burst into tears.
I don’t look back into the kitchen, but there are thousands of days of memories back there too: Me eating Pop-Tarts on Saturday morning while Dad made batch after batch of fudge as we listened to NPR.
Me heavily pregnant with Gus, making fudge while Dad watched me with an eagle eye and gave me pointers.
He knew at that point that his prognosis was terminal, and he was trying to pass on as much knowledge as he could while he still had time.
Mom holding colicky baby Gus for hours at a time, rocking him in a rocking chair we brought into the office so I could do the books while he finally settled down to sleep in her arms.
“I don’t want to sell this place,” I say aloud, and I know in my gut that it is true.
It belongs to our family. It was Mom and Dad’s, and now Mom is passing it to me.
Someday I want it to go to Gus to do with as he sees fit.
Selling it now would feel like I was giving up something precious—years of our family history, a stake in the ground in our community.
I don’t want to sell. I know in my heart it is the right thing to keep the store in our family. Somehow I’ll have to figure out a way.
But if we don’t sell, how are we going to afford to keep it?
The financial reality is daunting. With the water damage repair and the renovations and the lost income from having to close the shop, we have burned through almost all the money Mom had set aside.
There is no money left to pay for the county-required upgrades.
Our portion of the upgrades is going to run as much as ten thousand dollars, maybe more.
Where are we going to get that kind of money?
I was hoping the competition prize would help cover the costs, but that obviously didn’t happen.
And don’t even get me started on where I’ll find money for updated equipment.
I want to sell chocolates that are high-quality.
I struggle with the old equipment I have now.
It will only get worse as I ramp up my production volume.
It is a conundrum—one I don’t know how to easily solve.
But I don’t want to sell if there is any way in the world to avoid it. That I know for sure.
With a sigh I make a few notes on the list.
To-Do List
· Henry + Emmie fall in love
· Chocolate shop—need more $ and a name!!!
· Yellow dress the right yellow dress that fits!
· Engagement ring + proposal
At least I have one thing on the list so far.
A dress that fits. And now I have a vision for the chocolate shop that is definitely my own.
I don’t know how to figure out a solution to our financial problems, but at least I know what I want.
That is a good start. I read over the other two items on the list carefully.
Then I tuck it back into my purse. I know what I need to do next, and I’m not looking forward to it at all.