Chapter 20
DAVID
We had a tough time getting April’s Coffee Shop off the ground. Well, not we, but April. I’d given her everything she wanted, including a blank checkbook. She should have been jumping with joy.
Instead, it took her six months just to find a location. I understand that’s an essential aspect of opening a business, but you’d think it’s something you could decide on in a month or two. Tops.
Here I was, working ten- to twelve-hour days, and promising to bankroll her coffee shop, and she wasn’t doing shit.
Things started to improve once April finally picked Santa Monica Boulevard as the location.
Her excitement level grew, and mine did as well. I’d begun to wonder if maybe I’d made a mistake in marrying April, but her newfound interest in the coffee shop helped push out those intrusive thoughts.
She was involved, working hard, and really hoping to have a successful launch.
That’s all I wanted from her.
The first two weeks after the grand opening went great.
We had our friends coming in every day or every other day, and the place was often packed. The neighboring businesses dropped off gifts, and April seemed to be enjoying it all.
She seemed proud of herself, and it was probably the happiest I’d seen her since early in our marriage. And because she was happy, I was, in turn, happy. Happy wife, happy life.
And no, you shouldn’t tie your entire happiness to your spouse, but I still wanted the best for April, so I was delighted when the coffee shop began so perfectly.
It didn’t last.
After the succession of friends who came through during those first two weeks, it quickly began to slow down. We knew we couldn’t rely on our friends forever, but we were both surprised at how quickly business dwindled.
More than once, April would proclaim that we’d rarely get a customer from five to six a.m. That may seem like a random thing to complain about, but I’d pushed her to open at five, so the attack felt personal to me.
“I hope being empty for that first hour doesn’t affect the rest of the day,” she said.
Here I was, doing everything to support my wife, and she was still ungrateful. Worse than that, she was blaming me for the hours we’d settled on.
I rarely seethed, but I was seething.
The thought that I’d married the wrong woman returned, and for the first time, I considered the possibility that this might end in divorce.
Had her beauty really blinded me as to her true character?
I didn’t want to answer that because deep down, I knew the answer.