3. Fudge
THREE
Fudge
TARA
Chicago, Illinois
A tall, silver-haired man in work pants and a dark button-down shirt with his name monogrammed above the breast pocket stood up and raised a glass to all the employees sitting at the break room tables for a makeshift celebration.
“Standifer’s Hardware Store is going to remain alive and well thanks to the hard work of all our employees.”
He continued when the applause died down. “I’d like to thank Gina for her hard work revamping the books and ordering system, so we’re no longer in the dark ages when it comes to maintaining our business. Thanks as well to Ben and Alex for all the hard labor rearranging the store. To my wife, Allison,” he turned his head to wink at the smiling woman standing beside him and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, “you’ve stuck with me through thick and thin. I love you and promise to start taking days off - maybe even an actual vacation.”
The dozen or so people in the room all laughed.
“And finally, to our good friend, Tara Bailey.”
“Hear! Hear!” a voice called out from the back of the group.
Robert Standifer laughed. “Thank you for guiding us through all these wonderful, yet sometimes painful,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, “changes to help keep our store open so that we may pass it down to the next generation of Standifers.”
His two sons grinned at the prospect of carrying on the family business. They all raised their glasses and sipped their drinks.
The crowd moved toward the tables heaped with snacks and a large sheet cake with “Congratulations to Standifer Hardware” spelled out in bright blue icing.
Tara exchanged pleasantries with several people before saying her last goodbye. She was unable to escape without hugs from Robert and Allison Standifer, whose business she’d helped save. With a final wave, she left the Westside Chicago hardware shop for the last time; her work there was complete.
Tara opened the door of an old brown building on the west side of Chicago. It wasn’t one of the fancier skyscrapers like what one would see in the Loop downtown, but it definitely held its own, having been in the neighborhood for nearly ninety years. She took the stairs up to the third floor and stepped through the glass doors of Chapman Business Enterprises, a small consulting firm that worked to revitalize small businesses in desperate need of rescue.
For nearly fifteen years, Chapman had been bringing Mom and Pop shops back from the brink, allowing more community-owned businesses to stay afloat and thrive. It also allowed more families to remain in their own homes and maintain control of their futures.
She greeted Nadia, who manned reception and sauntered straight to her desk. She dropped her purse in the bottom drawer and sat down. After a few seconds, she grabbed the Standifer Hardware file and signed on to her computer.
She strolled to her boss’ office an hour later and leaned against the door frame with a big grin.
“They had cake, didn’t they?” Ronna Chapman said from behind her desk.
“Oh, yeah.”
“And did they toast you?” Ronna shook her head with a chuckle.
Tara set the file on Ronna’s desk and sat down across from her boss of two years. “They did indeed.” She smiled as she leaned back and crossed her legs.
Ronna opened the file, seemingly happy at what she saw on the opening pages. “I love when they do that.”
Tara tilted her head and looked up, as if pondering something important. “Called my guidance wonderful, yet sometimes painful.” Tara laughed, thinking back to the kind family whose business was on the brink of closing before her company stepped in to help prop them back up.
“Sounds like you did it right, then. Can’t make changes without a little pain.”
Being between projects always made for a slow workday, but since Tara had already turned in her final report, she finished the day by reading through application requests and counting the minutes to five o’clock. Just as she shut down her computer, an alert sounded on her phone.
She frowned when she read the calendar reminder. Her ex-boyfriend’s younger brother had planned to be in town for his twenty-fourth birthday this weekend. She pondered whether to text him, but finally broke down and wished him well on his birthday. She immediately got a message of thanks back.
She may not be part of the celebration plans now, but she always liked his happy-go-lucky attitude, not caring that she was his brother’s ex but simply grateful for the well-wishes.
“Oh, Eli. You were always my favorite.”
Sticking her phone in her pocket, she grabbed her bag and bounced down the stairs and out the door for the short walk home.
Tonight, her goal for the evening was to get home as soon as possible so she could start her weekend off right. And by right, she planned to sit at home in an oversized t-shirt and yoga pants with a pint of Death by Chocolate ice cream and her favorite movie, Somewhere in Time .
Snarfing down ice cream while spending the evening with Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour had become her new Friday night tradition.
Fortunately, a friend’s roommate had just moved out about the time Tara broke things off with Ethan, so Tara moved right in. But even after a month and a half, most of her boxes remained packed.
During a quiet scene in the movie, the door to her apartment opened as her roommate swooped in like a whirlwind.
“Seriously, Tara?” Becca sounded exasperated as she hung her jacket on the hook by the front door. “You’re pathetic. Why not try a Nicholas Sparks novel? Or, if you want to watch a depressing movie, watch Atonement or American Me ? I mean, they’re both excellent movies, but you want to run off and hide from the world after watching them.”
“It’s almost over.” Tara sniffed, her reddened eyes not straying from the TV. She grabbed a Kleenex and blew her nose.
Becca rolled her eyes and disappeared into the kitchen. Coming back with a bowl of popcorn and two glasses of wine, she offered one to Tara, who took a sip.
She inspected the wine inside the glass. “This is fantastic. What is it?”
“It’s the Pinot Grigio from the winery you like out of Oregon.” Becca took a sip. “They have a terrific Gewurztraminer, too. But it’s nothing like what you can get from Alsace. And don’t even get me started on an American winery’s version of a Riesling.” Becca rolled her eyes again at the blasphemy in thinking that an American winery could match anything from her favorite wine region in France.
Tara laughed as she took another sip, appreciating her roommate, who worked at one of the best wine shops in the city, a business she had helped bring back from the brink of bankruptcy two years earlier. Now that it’s consistently in the black, thanks partly to a popular wine of the month offering, Tara has become spoiled with high-quality wine. “It’s delicious. And goes well with chocolate ice cream.”
“Tara.” Becca curled her legs underneath her on the opposite end of the couch. “You can’t keep doing this, you know.”
“Doing what?” Tara raised her eyes, still bloodshot from crying at the end of her movie, to meet her friend’s gaze.
“Living on ice cream and Christopher Reeve.”
Tara pursed her lips, then let out a long exhale.
“Right.” Becca shot out a sideways glance. “You should get out once in a while. At least leave the apartment for more than work.”
Tara’s eyes glazed over, focusing on a random spot on the wall. “Of all things, I never expected him to….”
Becca leaned forward and squeezed Tara’s shoulder. “I know you didn’t, but he did. And if he’s like that, better to figure that out sooner rather than later. He’s a selfish prick. Plain and simple.”
“He’s a selfish prick I thought I was in love with.”
“I know, but a selfish prick nonetheless.” Becca finished her wine and set the glass on the coffee table next to Tara’s empty pint of ice cream. “And his cousins aren’t any better. I’m glad you didn’t move in with him. For my own selfish reasons, I’m glad you’re here. Of course, I’m a much better roommate than he would have been.”
“I do miss the sex, though.”
“Yeah.” Becca conceded. “Can’t help you with that, though you can always help yourself.”
“Not the same.”
“True. Battery powered devices always leave something to be desired.”
“Don’t need batteries.”
“What?”
“They take USB cables now. You can recharge them.”
Becca threw her friend a questioning glance, then quickly recovered. “Whatever. The wine is definitely better.” Becca stood up and grabbed her glass. She extended her hand toward Tara’s. “Want a refill?”
“While the wine is, in fact, better, I’m not sure that’s an even trade, but….” Tara enjoyed the last few drops and handed the glass over. “Yes, please.”
Becca refilled their glasses. “How soon until your trip to Mackinac Island?”
“End of next month. Ronna’s already approved my time off request.”
“So you’re still going then?”
“Yep. It’ll just be me and Christopher Reeve.”
“Don’t forget Jane Seymour and Christopher Plummer.”
“Right. She is so gorgeous in that movie.”
“She’s gorgeous in all her movies.”
“That’s true. And even though I’ll be taking the trip solo, I’ll at least have my fudge.” Tara’s face lit up as she thought of all the fudge shops on the island.
“And in your time as a fudgie, you’ll remember to bring some back for your roommate, right?”
Tara held up her glass with a smile. “Of course!”
Becca clinked her glass. “Now I’ll drink to that!”