Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Ali
The Morning Bell was only two blocks away from the Sea Turtle in the opposite direction from the Seashell Shack and across Gulf Boulevard.
It was easy to find.
A mango orange tin awning wrapped around the teal rectangle building. An unserious font on the purple bell-shaped sign that hung from the top of the building let you know this was the Morning Bell.
If the riot of color didn’t make you happy, the smell of the coffee would.
Ali giggled and inhaled the aroma of roasting beans and cinnamon buns.
She stepped inside, and the eclectic array of colors and objects made it hard to decide where to look first!
The walls were decorated with old photos, some black and white, and some an orangey cast from the ‘70s. There were a few old maps framed as well. The walls themselves were ‘70s, a Brady Bunch -style rec room paneling. And if it wasn’t moving, it was painted mango.
The chairs and tables were orange, too, set in stainless silver metal frames.
If they weren’t vintage, they were made to look so and quite successfully. Despite the vintage feel, the place was bright and clean, and nothing felt neglected about the way this place ran.
An intentional, relentless cheer was clearly the hallmark here.
A long high-display counter featured pastries of all kinds, several quiche options, and then, of course, a list of coffees to enjoy.
Erica emerged from the kitchen and clocked Ali immediately.
“Ali! Yes! So glad you made it. I sent Henry outside to the corner table I reserve for VIPs.”
She was hardly a VIP, but it was sweet for Erica to say.
“What’s your favorite coffee?”
“Oh, wow, I’m open to all kinds as long as it’s not decaf.”
“Right? Same. How about a flight?”
“A flight?”
“Yes, Morning Bell specialty. We have five little half cuppers and your favorite roast is the one you can order tomorrow.”
“Lovely.”
“Okay, which five?” Erica asked.
“Surprise me with the variety you like, I’m easy.”
“I sensed that about you, hussy.”
Ali laughed.
Something about Erica reminded Ali of her sisters. She had no artifice and no filter. Ali wanted to be more like that because it was a terrific recipe, in Ali’s opinion. Erica also seemed so relaxed about her gig running a coffee shop. Though caffeine was her commodity, chilled out was her vibe.
Ali’s smile continued as she located Henry at the corner table. They were outdoors under a canopy that protected customers from the heat of the sun but let them look out at the sidewalk, as walkers, bikers, and cars rolled by. It was the perfect place to people watch.
Henry stood up when Ali approached and gave her a cute little bow. Men never stood when a lady entered a room or joined a table! She’d seen it in old movies but couldn’t remember experiencing that. It seemed like a thing of a bygone era, but it was delightful, Ali decided. Henry must have been more southern than she realized.
“Mornin’! I’m sorry I was on the phone and missed you coming in!”
“Hello. Don’t worry, it gave me a chance to peek in there. Wow, how cute is it? Do you all just have cool vibes distributed to you when you open a business here or is it like an ordinance required for operating a business in Haven Beach? ‘Must have cool vibes to open here’?”
“Ah, yes, we take a class at the Y, Cool Vibes for Small Business Owners . They also teach QuickBooks, so it’s a twofer.”
Ali giggled at his joke. “Brilliant.” It was so lovely to meet people and gel with them.
But she did have an ulterior motive. And that was information gathering.
In short order, Erica appeared at the table with a tray in hand. She expertly weaved in and out of the increasingly busy outdoor eating space. She deposited the flight in front of Ali.
“Butter Blend, Oo La Leche, Uppers, ChocoLady, and Means Business. You’ll like at least one of these because they run the table of flavors.”
“Wow. Looks and smells wonderful!”
“And Henry, I’ve got your usual Boring Ass Coffee.”
“She makes ‘em all herself,” Henry told Ali. “And yes, Boring Ass Coffee, that’s the actual blend name. I’m afraid it fits me to a t.” He paused, giving Ali the once over. “So, Ali Kelly, you look more relaxed than that first night at the restaurant. Our little patch of paradise agreeing with you?”
“Yes, of course, the beach naps I’m taking are sort of alarming. I never doze off like that at home!”
“You do that when you need it,” Erica pointed out. “I remember when I first got here, I wanted to do yoga on the beach and kept falling asleep during Shavasana. The thing is, your body needs the sleep and then when it catches up, the naps are fewer.”
“Yeah, same at The Shack. I thought I was going to be doing this gourmet seafood thing, and it was like the fish itself said, ‘No, slow your roll, it’s not that serious.’ The beach told me, I didn’t tell it.” Henry took a sip of his Boring Ass Coffee.
Ali tried not to stare. They sure did make them handsome in, where was it, South Carolina?
“Remember you had that four-layer caviar dip on the menu?” Erica piped up. “I tried to tell you.”
“I had to get over myself a bit.”
“Our baseball star had Michelin stars in his eyes. It took him a while to understand we don’t worry about that kind of thing here.” Henry laughed at Erica’s description of him.
“Michelin stars are a bit out of my wheelhouse, too,” Ali said.
Ali’s job at the convention center was adjacent to the hospitality industry. Toledo did not have a Michelin star; the closest place that did was Chicago, some four hours by highway.
“Yes, well,” Henry conceded, “that was an aggressively career-oriented time of my life.”
“How did you wind up here?”
Henry shifted in his seat and looked down for a beat. Ali felt instantly guilty that she’d stepped into something too personal. She’d felt at such ease with these two that she’d forgotten for a moment that she’d just met them.
“Ah, took it over from my brother.”
“My ex.”
Ali looked from Henry to Erica. They did seem almost like brother and sister from completely different parentage. Now she knew why.
“Yes, he opened the place here, and it was a bit of a mess. While I was chasing good reviews and fame and fortune, he was slinging daiquiris and uh?—”
“Sleeping around?” Erica interrupted. “Yeah, not the greatest marriage. But I did get a bestie out of it!” Erica punched Henry on the shoulder.
“Hey, watch it. I don’t want to spill a drop of the nectar of the gods.”
“Anyway, when his brother, my ex, split during our contentious divorce, Henry came down to help clean up the mess.”
“And I never left. Like you said, there’s an ease here that lulled me from the get-go. I bought my brother out and retooled Seashell Shack.”
“His purchase gave my ex enough to comply with the divorce settlement. And we all lived happily ever after!”
“Not the kind of bedtime story we were raised with, eh?” Ali said. “I can relate to relationship messes, I’ll say that.”
“When it rains, it pours.” Erica put a hand out and patted Ali’s.
It was like they had a bond. A cheating husband bond. Ali wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Still, it was somehow comforting to know someone as vibrant and cool as Erica could also be not enough for some man who likely wasn’t her equal by a mile.
Ali realized she was harboring a lot of doubt that what Ted had done was her fault. That she was the weak link, and he’d had no choice but to cheat.
But it wasn’t her fault. Well, the marriage failing might have been a two-way street, but the cheating? That was at Ted’s feet and his alone.
“So now you’re here, and you own The Turtle!”
“Yeah, for a second anyway. If I can get Didi to give me the contact info of the management company, I can get appraisals going and, well, all the things needed to list it.” She saw a look go from Erica to Henry.
“You’re sure you’re selling?” Henry asked.
“Yes, I’m not a resort manager or hotel baron. I’m a convention center assistant manager; actually, a former assistant manager. Between me and my two sisters, we can sell this for what, a couple of hundred thousand, and each one of us can get a little bump on our future retirement savings. That’s the plan.”
Henry and Erica were quiet for a second, upon hearing Ali’s mission. She supposed it was natural. They’d just met her, and with Ali’s plan, who knew what would happen to Jorge and Didi. It was hard not to love the old couple and here she was, about to sell the place out from under them.
Henry stepped in and filled the awkward silence. “Nothing wrong with that, very sensible. Though…it seems like event convention center manager is actually pretty close to what they need there at The Turtle.”
“Yeah, it’s a shame,” Erica agreed. “Didi and Jorge are just not able to bring the magic like they used to.”
“You mean because of his hip?” Ali asked.
“Yes, and she’s older too now. It’s a lot of work. But I’ll tell you, that place is magic. I will never forget the nights I’ve spent on that beach with a glass of wine,” said Erica.
“And those lights she put up for my fiftieth birthday? I mean, it was a night ,” Henry said. The two of them laughed, sharing some memory. Ali wished she’d been there and she’d just met them both.
“Well,” Ali said, “I’m sure whoever buys it will fix it up, and you’ll have those nights again. While I have the two of you, though, Didi has been a little hard to pin down. Do you happen to know the name of the management company they use? In case she’s still unable to find her paperwork?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve never seen anyone but the two of them over there,” Erica replied.
“Right. But, you know, I have a person you should talk to on the appraisal front. I think you’ll find the numbers are a lot different than a couple hundred thousand,” Henry said.
“Yeah, worse. You may be right. There are some major repairs needed. And there are only like two guests booked right now. Watch me owe on this thing.”
The two old friends exchanged another look, and Erica piped up. “Ha, well, Henry will steer you right on a good agent. Patsy, right?” Erica looked at Henry, and he nodded. “You shouldn’t decide anything until you know all the facts.”
“Yes, like how in the world did we own this all this time and not know it? It’s the craziest thing.”
Her two new friends both muttered noncommittedly and buried their heads in their coffees.
Ali had the distinct impression they knew more than they were saying.
She may not have gone to the Y’s Cool Vibes for Small Business Owners classes, but she did have the sense to let the topic trail off.
She was the outsider here, and she was about to upset their groovy vibe.