Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
W hitney sat at a small corner table in Perky’s with her notebook in front of her. She loved this notebook. It had a pink leather cover with embossed gold lettering, and she was using her favorite pen. She considered it to be her lucky pen, although so far, it hadn’t brought her any real luck. The coffee shop was busy today with an afternoon crowd, but she had managed to find a quieter spot by the window. She flipped through her notes, looking at pages filled with scribbles and ideas that she had jotted down after reading the books Clemmy had recommended.
She was so nervous at the thought of seeing Tate again. Something about being around him made her nervous every single time. Their last few meetings had been about the business plan, but there was something about him, something that made her feel seen in a way that she hadn’t in a long time, or maybe ever.
The door opened, and she looked up to see him walking in. He spotted her immediately and waved. He walked up to the counter, ordered his coffee, and then met her at the table. He always looked so effortlessly put together in his button-down shirts and jeans, and he carried his own leather-bound notebook under one arm.
“Hey,” he said, sliding into a seat across from her. “You got the perfect spot in here today.”
“Hey,” she said, smiling. “I wanted to get a head start, so I got here about half an hour ago, just trying to make sense of everything I’ve read and all that we’ve talked about.”
He set his notebook on the table and nodded. “Let me see what you’ve got there.”
She hesitated a moment but then pushed her notebook across the table. He flipped through the pages, his eyebrows furrowing as he read.
“You’ve got a lot of good ideas here. You’ve really thought this through.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I just don’t know if it’s going to be good enough for a successful business.”
“It’s more than enough,” he said firmly. “But we can make it even stronger, I think.” He pulled out his own notebook and started jotting down suggestions. “All right, so let’s talk location. Have you thought about where you’d want your studio to be?”
“Well, I was thinking somewhere near the square. Maybe not quite on the square, but near it. That way, it’s central to everything, so people can walk to it after work or while they’re running errands.”
“That’s a great idea, and you’re right. Being close to the square will make it easier for people to find you. What about prices? Have you decided on membership fees or individual class rates? Have you checked into other wellness studios in other areas to see what they’re charging?”
“Well, I was thinking of offering both membership and individual. You know, membership for people who want to come regularly, but then single-class drop-in options for tourists or people who just want to try it out.”
“Very smart,” he said, his pen quickly moving across the page. “You’re already thinking like a business owner.”
She smiled, feeling pride. “I’ve been trying to think of everything, but it’s hard to know if I’m on the right track.”
“Well, you are,” he said in his always reassuring tone. “Some things in business you just have to find out while you’re doing it. You can’t plan for everything, but just know if you hit any roadblocks, we’ll figure them out together.”
Their eyes met across the table, and Whitney felt a warmth spread through her chest. She quickly looked away.
“So, have you thought about how to market the studio?” he asked, breaking the moment.
“I was thinking about social media, of course, but I’m not really good at that kind of stuff.”
“I can help you with that. We can set up an Instagram page, post pictures of the space, maybe even run some promotions to get people excited.”
“You make it all sound so easy,” she said with a laugh.
“Oh, it’s not, but it’s worth it.”
They spent the next hour talking about the finer details of her plan. Tate offered all kinds of practical and thoughtful advice while she found herself feeling more confident by the minute. As they worked, her thoughts kept drifting back to her father. She hadn’t seen him much since their argument at the diner, except for the brief, tense moment at the potluck. She hadn’t even worked any shifts lately. His absence weighed on her more than she wanted to admit.
“Hey,” Tate said suddenly. “You okay? You seem a little distracted.”
She looked up, realizing she’d been staring at her coffee cup. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been thinking about my dad. Things have been rough between us lately.”
“I figured. He’s a tough guy, but it’s very clear that he loves you.”
“I know. I just don’t think he understands how much this whole thing means to me. I’m worried about him. His health is not great, and all this stress is not helping.”
Tate reached across the table and placed a hand over hers. It sent a jolt of warmth through her.
“You’re doing the right thing, Whitney. I know it’s hard, but sometimes we have to make choices for ourselves, even if it’s not what other people want.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime,” he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before pulling back. She felt an immediate void.
“Now, let’s finish this plan. You’ve got a wellness studio to open.”
They went back to work, but the weight on Whitney’s chest felt a little bit lighter. At least Tate believed in her, and for now, that had to be enough. As they wrapped up their meeting and she told him goodbye, she felt a sense of hope. Her relationship with her father was strained, for sure, but she was determined to prove to him and herself that she could make this dream a reality.
* * *
W hitney pulled on the strap of her backpack as she followed Madeline up the steep and winding trail. The sound of the leaves crunched beneath their feet. The air outside was crisp and cool, and it was the kind of morning that promised sunshine later but still held on to the chill of the Blue Ridge Mountains. In front of them, Geneva led the way, her pace brisk despite her age. She expertly navigated the uneven terrain like she did it every day—and she probably did.
“I do not know how in the world you convinced me to do this,” Whitney said, laughing as she looked at Madeline.
“Listen, you’ve been stuck in that clinic or at the diner for weeks,” Madeline said, pulling a stray branch out of the way. “A little fresh air won’t kill you.”
Geneva laughed, glancing over her shoulder. “Says the famous romance novelist that I practically had to drag out here every single time for those first few months.”
Madeline chuckled. “I was a different woman back then.”
“Whitney, if you can’t keep up, honey, just say so,” Geneva said, glancing over her shoulder again.
Whitney rolled her eyes. “Are you trying to make me look bad, Geneva? But seriously, don’t you ever get tired?”
“Not when I’m out here,” Geneva said, stopping and holding her hands up toward the trees. “There’s nothing like being in the mountains to remind you of what life is all about. You know, your daddy used to say the same thing when we were kids, though I’m sure he’s forgotten by now. I don’t ever see him wandering around out in the woods. He seems to stay in that diner twenty-four hours a day.”
Whitney nodded. “Yes, he does, and it’s affecting his health.”
Geneva looked at her with concern. “His health? What’s going on?”
“Oh, he’s been having trouble with his blood pressure for months. I keep telling him to take the medicine the doctor is prescribing, but he won’t do it. Says he doesn’t want to be stuck on a bunch of pills. And now he’s so stressed out about the vegan cafe that his face is always red, and I know if I checked his blood pressure, it would probably be off the charts.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to deal with loved ones. We can’t make them do what we want them to do—and often what they need to do. It’s very frustrating. I don’t want anything bad to happen to him.”
Geneva waved her hand. “Now, I know this is a serious topic, but we won’t let it derail us from our hike. This is meant to make you feel more clear-headed and calm. Talking about problems that you can’t control isn’t going to do that.”
They started walking again.
“But you’ve known my dad a long time, right?” Whitney asked.
Geneva chuckled. “Longer than you’ve been alive,” she said. “Oh, he was a wild one back in those days. I always thought he’d leave Jubilee and go out and see the world, but when your mama came along, he decided there was no reason to go anywhere else.”
Whitney felt a pang in her chest. Her mother’s passing had been such a turning point for her father, and she had always wondered how different it might have been if her mother had survived her cancer.
“Did you ever think about leaving here?” Whitney asked.
Geneva stopped at a small clearing, motioning for them to take a break. She pulled a water bottle from her pack and took a sip. “I did—plenty of times, actually. I even tried it once. Spent a summer in Nashville when I was about your age, working at a bookstore. I dreamed of a big city life. But you know what? I just missed these mountains too much, so I came back and never regretted it.”
Whitney sat down on a fallen log. “I guess I’ve always felt like I just needed to stay for my dad.”
Madeline sat beside her, brushing the dirt off her hands. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with loving your family, Whitney. But loving your family doesn’t mean putting your dreams on hold forever. They had their chance at their own dreams, and now it’s your turn.”
Geneva nodded. “Your daddy’s one of the most stubborn men I’ve ever met, I’ll give you that. But I’ve also known Coop long enough to know that in his heart, he wants what’s best for you, even if he doesn’t know how to show you.”
Whitney pulled out her own water bottle and took a long sip. “He thinks my wellness studio is some ridiculous idea. He wants me to either stay at the clinic or work at the diner because they’re steady jobs. He thinks I’d be foolish to give them up.”
“Steady jobs are fine if that’s what you want,” Geneva said. “But honey, if your heart’s not in it, you’ll regret it every day. You’ll be sad when you wake up every morning. Coop’s just scared. He has spent his whole life trying to make sure you were taken care of, and the idea of you stepping out on your own terrifies him.”
“You know, when I first started writing, I had a lot of people tell me it was a waste of time,” Madeline said. “Even my husband at the time thought it was silly. But I just kept going because I knew it was what I was meant to be doing. And if I’d listened to everyone else, I wouldn’t have written a single book.”
“But what if I fail?” Whitney asked, looking at each of them. “What if I sink everything I have into this, and it doesn’t work?”
“Then you get back up, and you try again. That’s what life’s about, Whitney,” Geneva said. “You don’t get anywhere by sitting still and playing it safe. Your daddy knows that even if he doesn’t want to admit it.”
“I just don’t want to disappoint him. Or maybe it’s that I don’t want to disappoint myself.”
“You’re not disappointing anyone,” Madeline said. “Taking chances is one of the best parts of life.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the wind rustling through the leaves. Then Geneva finally stood. “All right, come on, ladies. Enough of this sitting around. Let’s get moving. There’s a view up ahead that will remind you why you love this place.”
Whitney smiled as she followed the older women in front of her. It was almost a beautiful metaphor. Women who had blazed a trail ahead of her were counting on her now to blaze her own.
* * *
W hitney pushed open the door of Jubilee Vegan Cafe and walked inside, holding onto her notebook. She was getting so comfortable here—maybe a little too comfortable. The late afternoon rush had cleared, and the space felt warm and inviting, with soft music playing in the background. Tate was behind the counter, as usual, wiping down the surfaces. He looked up, saw her, and smiled, making her heart skip a beat.
“Hey, Whit,” he said, laying the rag aside. “Come on in. I’ve got the whole place to myself for a couple of hours.”
“Great, thanks,” she said, her voice a little breathless from hurrying over after her shift at the clinic. She slid into one of the booths, putting her bag and notebook on the table. “You know, I’ve been working on some ideas. I wanted to run them past you.”
He sat down with her a moment later, carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. “Thought you could use it after a long day.”
“You read my mind,” she said, wrapping her hands around it and letting the warmth seep into her fingers. “Thank you.”
“No problem. So, let’s hear what you’ve got.”
She opened her notebook and flipped through the pages filled with scribbled ideas and diagrams. “All right, so I’ve been thinking about how to make the studio feel more accessible to everyone. You know, not just for people who are already fit and healthy, but for people who might be skeptical, like people of my dad’s generation or?—”
“People like Coop,” he interrupted with a teasing grin.
“Exactly,” she said. “I was thinking about offering some beginner-level classes and workshops. You know, maybe a community discount for local people. I just want it to feel like a place for everyone.”
He nodded, leaning back in his seat. “That’s really smart, and I think it could work, but—” he trailed off, tapping his finger on the table.
“But what?”
He leaned forward, resting on his elbows. “What if you didn’t just talk about it—the ideas, I mean? What if you actually tried them out?”
She blinked at him, her pen hanging above the page. “Try it out? How?”
“Here,” he said, pointing around the cafe. “Let’s host a wellness night. You can use my place as your test run.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Seriously? You’d let me do that?”
“Of course, I would,” he said with a shrug. “This is the perfect place to do it. We can move the tables over to that side and set up yoga mats or whatever you need. You could do some mindfulness sessions, a nutrition workshop—basically anything you’ve got in mind. It’ll be a great test run. I’ll even make some snacks. Something healthy but delicious to show people that that’s possible.”
She stared at him. “I don’t know, Tate. What if nobody shows up? Or what if they think the whole thing is stupid like my dad does?”
“Well, then they’re missing out,” he said. “But I don’t think that’s going to happen. I think people are going to show up because you’re passionate about this. They’re going to feel that. You just need to take this leap.”
She bit her lip, her mind racing with the possibilities. The whole idea scared her to death, but she was so excited that it overshadowed the fear. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s do it. I’ll need some time to plan, but this could be just the push I need.”
Tate smiled. “That’s what I like to hear. You’re going to crush this, Whitney. I know it.”
She smiled back. “Thank you, Tate, for being the only one who believes in me, it seems.”
“Always,” he said softly.
A moment hung between them, charged with some kind of electricity she’d never felt before. Whitney cleared her throat and looked back down at her notes. “Okay, then, so let’s talk logistics.”
For the next hour, they worked together, eating snacks and hammering out details for the event. Tate offered all kinds of marketing ideas, suggesting they put up flyers at Perky’s and the library, while Whitney made notes about which activities she wanted to include. At one point, their hands brushed against each other as they both reached for the pen, and she felt a jolt that left her breathless.
“Sorry,” he said, his eyes locking on hers.
“It’s fine,” she said quickly, her cheeks burning. She focused again on her notebook.
When they wrapped up, Whitney felt a mixture of excitement and nerves. She gathered her things, and Tate walked her to the door.
“You’re going to do great,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”
“Thank you,” she said, looking up at him. For a minute, she thought he was going to lean in closer, but then the door jingled as she pushed it open, breaking the moment. She stepped out into the cool evening air, her heart still racing, clutching her notebook to her chest. Her dream was starting to feel more and more like a reality.