Chapter 7 Mission for Goods
seven
Mission for Goods
So a demon got handsy with me and I got flirtatious, what of it? Doesn’t make me a psychopath. Maybe very lonely and desperate, but not crazy.
Right?
I don’t say any of this out loud as I bump along with Nai Nai and Ace. The security bros are at the café setting everything up, so we head out to give them space.
The town is very charming in the daylight.
Every building is an old house that’s been converted on the first floor, but has apartments on the two floors above them.
It’s encouraging to see a lot of small businesses thriving around us.
There’s a lot of trinket stores, too, so I’m guessing we’ll get a good amount of tourism.
We’re not that far from the beach, so fingers crossed!
We drop off the trailer at the local Haul-It-Urself, then head into the heart of town. It’s a main street and one more that runs parallel with about thirty different shops and a few restaurants, not including the Dough Dome we saw on the way in.
We find some public parking, then take to the streets. It’s all manicured gardens, colorful trees, and a fair amount of tourist traffic—but they’re all about as old as Nai Nai. We pass a pop-up shack called “The Clam Stand” advertising lobster rolls, and the scent makes my stomach groan hungrily.
“Oh, the crafts store!” Nai Nai points and starts heading that way with more speed than I’ve seen from her in months.
She’s had a lot more energy since we left Boston, and Ace seems excited about the prospects of a new school—despite missing his friends. He’ll get a fresh start, no prior reputation, and I’ll get a clean slate for a while, too. Maybe this place will be good for us. Our little getaway.
The door to the craft store dings merrily as we step inside.
It’s not a Michael’s, but it’s got a decent variety.
There are six rows, all labeled neatly. Plastic flowers are arranged in cute bouquets at the front, and the seasonal section is set up for Halloween.
A woman a little older than me with blond hair and pale, freckled skin greets us with a cheery welcome.
“I’m Lacey, one of the owners. Can I help you find anything?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Nope, just looking—”
Nai Nai steps in front of me. “I need red yarn; wooden tiles, preferably pine; black lacquer; and green, red, and yellow paint. Wall mounts, a hammer, brown twine…” She trails off for a second, then pulls a list from her cardigan pocket. “Oh, yes, and storage jars!”
Lacey smiles. “I like a woman who knows what she wants. Let me get you a cart.”
Ace pops in his earbuds and wanders off into the aisles.
I follow the pair around while they chatter. Nai Nai tells her all the plans to ward off demons and stop interdimensional cockroaches. Lacey laughs in a good-natured way but looks at me with casual skepticism. I shrug.
Nai Nai gets into the weeds on picking her paints—they have to be the right consistency!—so Lacey comes to stand next to me.
“You guys move into the café at the end of Main?”
“Yep,” I say popping the “p” as I rock back on my heels. “I’m Jade, my grandma’s lackey. She’s Mrs. Feng—or Nai Nai if she likes you.”
“Good to know.” She chuckles and takes my offered hand for a shake. “That place has been empty for a while now. Need any help getting it in shape?”
What is she selling…
“Nai Nai’s got big plans, and as you can see,” I say, gesturing to the woman comparing labels on two exact same shades of green, “she’s going to want to do it herself. Or rather, make me do it herself.”
Lacey laughs again. Damn, I’m not that funny. This girl is just full of joy.
“When do you think you’ll have it open again?”
I blow a raspberry. “No idea. I’ve been making tea for a long time, but coffee is a different beast. I’ve got a lot to learn. And the café itself is in desperate need of a facelift.”
And I don’t have a single dime to my name to do it. Those damned cops didn’t give me my illegal winnings back. Thank goodness Ace entered Nai Nai in several sweepstakes that suspiciously paid off, too.
Lacey grins over-wide and squeals. “Oh, please let me help!”
What’s this girl’s angle?
I try not to scowl. “Thanks, but we’re going to have to do everything ourselves.”
“You don’t have to pay me.”
The scowl comes anyway now as I grunt incredulously, “What?”
Her eyes practically sparkle and she gets a far-off look. “It would be like a pet project for me. I do charity for the local church sometimes, but too few people in town need help with interior design.”
She wants to work? For free? No way.
“But your shop,” I say.
She waves the comment off. “It’s empty most days—I don’t really cater to the tourists. I’m sure I could put a sign up that has updated hours for when I know my regulars come around and not a single profit would be lost.”
I’m about to say, “Let’s ask Nai Nai,” when the glint of the brand on my wrist pulls Lacey’s attention.
“Oh, my god! What a cool tattoo. How is it moving like that?”
I put my hand in my pocket. “It’s luminescent ink this guy makes in Boston.”
Shit, that’s a thing she can look up on the internet.
“It’s pretty obscure,” I say, then lean in and whisper, “Chinese underground stuff, you know.”
I give hard eyes at Nai Nai and Lacey makes a big, silent “Oh.”
She smiles behind her finger put up as a hush. “I’ve got you.”
“This is the one!” Nai Nai shouts as she holds the green paint in the air. “And yes, Giggle Sprite, you are welcome to come paint our home.”
Lacey blinks a few times.
“Yeah, she means you,” I say, patting her on the shoulder. “You’re her favorite now.”
Nai Nai pushes the cart off toward the yarn, and Lacey blushes with a little smile. We load up everything she needs with few more intense decision-making moments, and Ace meets us at the checkout. He tosses down a discounted box of Snap-Its that all come together to make a spaceship.
Lacey rings us up and I nearly die, but Nai Nai throws down her bank card like she’s the boss.
Well, she is the boss.
“Oh, hey, let me get your number,” Lacey says as she comes out from behind the check stand. I must give her a hard glare or something because she clarifies, “So we can coordinate when I should come over?”
Nai Nai elbows me hard and I grunt.
“Sure.”
I take her offered phone and drop in my digits, then send a text to myself.
“Got you,” I say, holding up my phone to show the message.
She grins so wide it looks like it hurts. “Perfect! I’m so excited to help out. That place has been a dream project for me for a while, but Jamie wouldn’t let me have it.”
I look at her curiously.
“Sorry, my wife, Jamie,” she says.
“Wife?” Nai Nai asks.
I grab her shoulders and steer her out of the shop with a hurried, “Great to meet you, Lacey. Talk soon!”
We get back to the car with only a few homophobic questions asked by Nai Nai.
I remind myself she grew up in a different place, in a different time.
While she’s not intolerant, her questions definitely come off as such.
Better just to get her out of any of those situations before things get weird and we lose the free labor or get badmouthed around town as bigots.
We hit the hardware store on the outskirts of town and get all the buckets of paint for the café section. Nai Nai agreed to let me be the designer for that space so it would be modern. Like I know anything about that, but I do happen to have a vision.
Ceiling all black with splotches of neon pink, blue, and purple, with white and yellow stars flecked between them.
Little papier-maché planet lanterns hung all around the place.
But then the walls will be simple so we can cover them in art from local artists.
We can offer to sell for them and get a commission.
It’ll keep the space looking fresh and bring in regular customers who are interested in the newest art, or the artists themselves.
And for the tourists, they can find something to take home with them other than a coffee.
The total for all the painting supplies makes me have a second mini heart attack, but Nai Nai throws down the bank card again, rescuing me.
“We’re going to make this money back,” she says confidently.
This old bat knows things I don’t, so I believe her.
The grocery store is our last stop and, boy, is their selection limited.
Very, very limited. We ask where the bok choi is, and the poor attendant leads us to the seafood aisle like it might be some kind of shellfish.
In the end, we get a few things for modest, mostly Nai Nai approved meals, and head home.
I can smell her making cruller for the leftover congee as Ace and I set up her crafting table. My mouth waters when we meet her in the kitchen for dinner and I see the spread on the low table.
The fried dough is better than I remember, and dipped in day-old congee—ugh, so good.
It’s my mini escape from all the work that’s ahead of me.
Ace starts school in two days, and while I can’t contact any of the people who do business stuff over the weekend, I know I still need to be working.
Lacey’s question reminded me I’ve got a lot of learning ahead of me.
After dinner I occupy the shower again—no, thoughts of Rhazan do not come up—then get to all the learning.
There are so many Viewtube videos on how to make coffee with an espresso machine, which I’m pretty sure is the coppery-colored thing downstairs.
It still needs a good cleaning, but I hope it’ll work.
I take notes by hand and eat another cruller with a bit of sugar dusted on top—very little sugar, just in case I summon a visitor. By eleven, well past everyone’s bedtime, Nai Nai calls for lights out. I snuggle into my sheets, but sleep doesn’t find me. Thoughts of a certain fire demon do, though.
My wrist dances with color and light in the darkness. I want to touch the mark, not to summon him but just to ensure it’s real. I swallow back the desire and roll onto my side, then start my square breathing technique.
In for eight. Hold. Out for eight. Hold. I count backwards from a thousand as I do it, timing my breaths with the countdown. Before long, I’m not counting anymore, but flying.