Chapter 27
27
What could she have done wrong?
As the sun beamed down on her at two o’clock on this second Monday in September, Emma parked a couple of doors down from Sweet Dreams and tried to loosen the kinks in her stomach.
They refused to budge.
Because somehow she’d messed up.
Why else would Joe have called her this morning and set up a meeting with him and Alice at the bakery on a day the shop was closed? Especially since she’d see them both bright and early tomorrow morning, now that he was back in the shop almost every day and pitching in where he could with his healing wrist.
And if they let her go, what would she do?
She’d researched area bakeries and compiled a list of contacts. Updated her resume. Written her cover note. This was the week she’d planned to ask Alice and Joe for a letter of recommendation and begin applying for jobs.
But if she was being fired, no recommendation would be forthcoming.
Even worse, she’d once again be without a source of income—and her hopes of a holiday reunion with Justin would be dashed.
At least she’d paid back the loan Bren had given her for the deposit on her apartment. And she wasn’t going to go back to her again for any more assistance.
Worst case, she’d talk to Father Murphy and see if she could tap into the church’s emergency fund he’d mentioned at their first meeting. Just until she landed a permanent job.
If she landed one, after whatever Alice and Joe had to say today.
She slid from behind the wheel. Squeezed her fingers into tight fists.
As far as she could tell, her tenure at the shop had been flawless—and the treat-of-the-day addition had generated a significant increase in traffic. She’d heard no complaints from anyone.
But she must have made some terrible mistake if the owners had called a special meeting with her.
Standing around outside, however, wasn’t going to fix whatever was wrong. May as well go in and face the music.
Forcing her legs to carry her forward, she continued to the door. Twisted the knob. Stepped inside.
Alice and Joe were seated at the single café table against the wall. The folding chair from the back room had been pulled up and was waiting for her. A sheet of paper lay on the table in front of Alice.
“Good morning, Emma.” Alice stood and motioned her forward. “Would you like a cup of coffee? I made it under Joe’s watchful eye, so it should be drinkable.”
The woman’s cheery demeanor didn’t suggest the axe was about to fall. But what else could have prompted this meeting?
“Thank you, but I had coffee earlier.” Besides, her churning stomach wouldn’t be receptive to the high-octane, high-acid java Joe favored.
“Then come on over and have a seat.”
“I’d offer you a fancy dessert, but our French pastry chef is off today.” Joe’s smile also seemed welcoming and warm.
What was going on?
Emma approached and perched on the edge of the chair. “Is everything okay?”
“Couldn’t be better.” Alice squinted at Joe. “You told her we had a proposal to make, didn’t you?”
“I think so.” His brow creased, and he scratched his head. “But a call came in from Kathleen while we were talking, and after Lisa began clamoring in the background to talk to her papoo, I ended the conversation with Emma pretty quick.” Joe transferred his attention at her. “I did mention the proposal, didn’t I?”
“No.”
“Joe!” Alice sent him an admonishing look. “Can’t you see the poor girl is worried?”
“Why would she worry? She knows she’s done a stellar job here. Right, Emma?”
The knots in her stomach began to loosen. “I thought I had, but a meeting outside of normal hours did kind of throw me.” An understatement if ever there was one. “I wondered if I’d messed something up without realizing it.”
“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, Emma.” Joe sent her an apologetic glance.
Alice rolled her eyes. “I should have made the call myself.” The older woman patted her hand. “You haven’t messed anything up, Emma. Far from it. Business has been booming since you came on board. We’re even getting new customers from Bandon who’ve heard about your pastries. So Joe and I started thinking about how to proceed going forward.”
“Actually, the brains of this outfit started thinking.” Mouth bowing, Joe hooked a thumb toward Alice. “But I liked her idea. We hope you do too.”
“You want to explain it to her, Joe?” Alice slid the piece of paper on the table toward him.
“No.” He slid it back. “You’re better at business stuff.”
“That’s true.” Alice winked at her and linked her fingers on the table. “I’ve been watching the numbers over the past three weeks. Income has increased quite a bit, thanks to your pastries. And those sales are pumping up sales of our other items. Several days this past week the cases were empty before closing. I had to shut down and put a sold-out sign in the window.”
“Are you thinking we need to increase output?” Another worry began to form in Emma’s mind. She was stretched thin as it was, Joe wasn’t yet able to help much, and the baking space was limited.
“That would be ideal to meet demand, but logistically it’s not realistic with our staffing and space.”
Thank goodness Alice recognized the shop’s limitations.
“So what’s your proposal?”
“Well, much as we love Hope Harbor and our business here, we miss our daughter and grandchildren. Someday in the not-too-distant future we’d hoped to retire and sell Sweet Dreams to someone who would carry on with the shop. Thanks to your arrival—and the imminent arrival of yet another grandchild—we think maybe that someday has arrived.”
As they both looked at her, Emma tried to digest what they were saying.
Were they implying she might take over the shop?
Surely not. That would be too fantastic to be real.
“I think she’s speechless, Alice.” Joe grinned at her.
Emma tried to find her voice. “I’m not certain I understand what you’re saying.”
“I’ll try to be more clear than my partner here.” Joe leaned forward. “We’d like to retire and move to Idaho to be closer to our daughter and her family. We want to leave Sweet Dreams in good hands. We can’t think of anyone more perfect to take the reins than you.”
She hadn’t misunderstood.
They were offering her a chance to fulfill her dream of having her own business.
But touched as she was by their proposition, and as hard as she wished she could accept, there was one little problem.
Namely, cash flow.
Emma clenched her hands together in her lap. Swallowed past her disappointment. “I can’t tell you how flattered I am that you’re willing to trust me with the business you built. And I’d leap at the opportunity in a heartbeat if I could. But I don’t have the resources to buy you out.”
“We assumed as much. So we put our heads together and came up with a plan we think could work.” Alice tapped the sheet of paper. “Would you like to hear it?”
“This beautiful world is full of opportunities for people who keep their eyes open.”
As Charley’s comment echoed in her mind, a tingle of anticipation rippled through her. “Yes.”
Joe let Alice take the lead, and she did a thorough job of explaining the bullet points on her list.
Bottom line, they were suggesting a six-month transition period, during which they would remain active in the shop as mentors while she learned the business side of the operation. After that, they would relocate to Idaho and retain an equity interest in Sweet Dreams, taking a percent of the profits until the agreed-upon price was paid.
“If our offer is acceptable, I’ll have the attorney we’ve used in Coos Bay for many years put together the paperwork.” Alice closed the file. “What do you think?”
Emma was fairly quivering with excitement.
This was surreal.
A dream come true.
Wait until she told Justin!
“I think it sounds like a wonderful opportunity.”
“Excellent.” Alice folded her hands on top of the file. “We’ll get the agreement in the works. You should also have an attorney review it. I can recommend Eric Nash here in town. He’s top-notch. If we hadn’t had a long-term attorney, we’d have switched to him after he moved here. I’ll ask our accountant to work with him on the financial terms. That would be Tracy, out at the cranberry farm. First-rate CPA. I hope she has time to take this on. With her farm and cranberry nut cake business booming, she’s been cutting back on her clients. You should also have an accountant review the terms and our books. Eric may be able to recommend someone.”
“I wonder if Fred’s son would do that for me.”
Alice’s eyebrows rose. “I thought he went back to St. Louis.”
“He did, but I could ask Bren to contact him and see if he’d help me. I think they became friends while he was here.”
“Whatever works for you is fine with us.”
“I’ll talk to Bren right away.” It was all Emma could do to keep herself planted in the chair while every instinct in her body was urging her to jump up and cheer.
“And we’ll loop in our attorney and Tracy.” Alice extended her hand. “Here’s to a happy and prosperous partnership.”
Emma returned her firm clasp. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for jump-starting our retirement. Saying goodbye to Sweet Dreams may not have been on our radar quite yet, but this opportunity is too perfect to pass up.”
“Not that I’m trying to change your mind, but won’t you miss Hope Harbor?” Emma encompassed them both in the question. “Hasn’t this been your home for many years?”
A touch of melancholy crept into Joe’s expression. “Yes. I came here when I was twenty-five, with the dream of opening my own bakery. I doubt it would ever have happened if I hadn’t met Alice, though. She’s the one who figured out how to do it on a shoestring. We’ll definitely miss our shop ... and this town. Won’t we, Alice?”
“Yes.” She took his hand. “But one thing we learned after our daughter got married and moved away is that home is more than a place. It’s being with the people you love. Living close to our daughter and her family will help make up for missing Hope Harbor.” Alice squeezed Joe’s hand. “So are we ready to get this show on the road?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll give you a copy of the agreement to review as soon as it’s ready.” Alice stood and picked up the sheet of paper. “I’ll lock up behind us.”
After a round of goodbyes outside the shop, they all headed for their own cars.
Once behind the wheel of her Sentra, Emma reached for her cell.
Paused.
Eager as she was to call Justin, it would be wrong to create expectations until she had the agreement in hand. This felt like a bubble that could burst at any moment.
But she was going to pay Bren a visit.
Wait until her benefactor heard this news.
And if Bren could convince Noah to weigh in on the Sweet Dreams books ... and if everything appeared to be sound ... perhaps the dream she’d almost given up on was on the cusp of coming true.
As the doorbell at her house rang, Bren finished the last letter on the name of the place card she was working on and set the pen aside.
It wasn’t Bev. She’d be manning the counter at the Book Nook.
Must be a delivery. Her latest order of calligraphy supplies had shipped yesterday.
Bren stood, stretched her back, and padded toward the door in her socks. After spending eight hours on her feet at The Perfect Blend with nary a respite in the surge of customers, it was no wonder her toes had demanded release the instant she got home.
She’d been happy to oblige. There was something comforting and homey about wandering around in your stockinged feet—and being back in your own digs, even if they were a step down from Fred’s cottage.
Unfortunately, returning to familiar surroundings hadn’t eased the legacy of loneliness she’d inherited from the brief interlude in her life that had been graced by Noah’s presence.
And the passage of time, and lack of contact, wasn’t helping.
If anything, she missed him more now than she had at the beginning.
Propping up her drooping lips, she pulled the door open.
Emma stood on the other side.
“This is a surprise.” Her smile broadened. “Come in. And I apologize in advance for the lingering smell of fresh paint and the drywall dust swirling through the air. I hope you don’t have allergies.”
“No. But I don’t plan to stay long anyway. I have news, or I wouldn’t have dropped in unannounced.” Emma entered, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling.
“Happy news, I take it.” Bren shut the door and motioned her toward the couch.
“Very. You’ll never guess what happened today.” Emma crossed to the sofa and sat, excitement pinging off her.
“Then I won’t try. Tell me.” Bren joined her on the couch.
“Alice and Joe met with me today. It was amazing.”
As Emma relayed her story, Bren listened without interrupting, delight at the other woman’s good fortune chasing away some of her doldrums.
How wonderful that Emma was finding a happy ending to her story.
When her unexpected guest wound down, Bren leaned forward. “This is awesome news. I assume you told them yes.”
“Of course. It’s a dream come true. I do have to review the legal agreement, and the price is a little scary. Not that it isn’t fair, but it’s a chunk of money to agree to, all on the assumption I can build on the recent sales increase.”
“Do you have any doubts about that? From what you said, your treat-of-the-day idea has been a huge success.”
“I have plenty of doubts.” She wiped her palms down her jeans. “Not about my abilities or the ideas I have to boost business even more, but it’s hard to trust such an incredible piece of luck. I mean, what if there’s a pitfall I’m overlooking?”
“That’s why attorneys get involved. And I’ll vouch for Eric too. I haven’t had to use his services, but his reputation is stellar.”
“I also need to have an accountant review the financial piece. That’s the main reason I stopped by. Do you think if I paid Noah, he might be willing to help?”
Smart choice, with his skills. But ...
“I don’t know, Emma. His job is super busy. It can’t hurt to pose the question, though.”
Emma played with a button on her shirt. “I hate to ask another favor, after all you’ve done for me, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to make the initial contact. I don’t really know his dad, and Noah was leery about me in the beginning. I don’t want to put him in an awkward position, and I thought it would be easier for him to say no through you than directly to me if he doesn’t want to help.”
Bren leaned back against the couch.
There was almost three weeks to go in their agreed-upon communication moratorium, but positioning this as a business matter should allow her to bend the terms of their arrangement.
And it would help Emma out.
“No problem. If he’s agreeable, the two of you can take it from there.”
“That would be great.”
“I’ll text him this afternoon. Have you told Justin yet?”
“No. I want this to be solid first. I’d feel terrible if he got his hopes up and everything fell through. To be honest, it feels too good to be true.”
“It sounds real to me—but I understand your concern. I’d feel the same in your place. Are you certain Alice and Joe are committed to this? They’ve lived here forever. This is their home.”
“I asked them about that, and Alice said home is more than a place. That it’s being with the people you love. And I know what she means. I won’t feel like this is truly home until Justin and I are together again.” Emma stood. “Will you let me know as soon as you hear from Noah?”
“I will.” Bren rose too and walked her to the door, Alice’s comment looping through her mind as she waved Emma off, wandered back to her calligraphy setup, and retook her seat in front of the desktop easel.
The bakery owner’s definition of home wasn’t one she’d ever considered.
Was Alice right?
Was home all about the people you loved versus the physical place?
If everyone in Hope Harbor disappeared, would this place still feel like home—or would it be just another beautiful spot by the sea?
Probably the latter.
On the flip side, much as she’d miss the residents if she left, Bev was the only person she’d let into her heart.
Except for Noah, a visitor who was now back in St. Louis. The place he called home.
If they fell in love, would home be wherever he was?
Maybe.
Frowning, she caught her lower lip between her teeth and steepled her fingers.
It would be hard to leave Bev. Likewise for this beautiful place with its sweeping vistas, endless charm, stunning lighthouse, and Sunrise Reef, where she went whenever she needed to be reminded that beauty could be found in the most ordinary places if one sought it out.
But everything about Noah felt like home.
Slowly she picked up her pen.
Instead of reaching for a place card, however, she set a piece of parchment paper on her desktop easel and began to pen a note.
Maybe she’d send it. Maybe she wouldn’t. That was a decision for another day.
Yet as the words flowed from her heart, through her pen, and onto the paper, one thing was clear.
Other than a couple of very brief and disappointing dabbles in romance early on, since the day she left home at seventeen she’d been a solo act. Independent. Self-sufficient. Trusting only Bev—and more recently, Noah—with her deepest secrets. Never expecting anyone to help her. Never willing to cede control of her life to another person, or let someone force her to be something she wasn’t.
But Noah had never tried to do that.
So if she could wrap her mind around a different definition of home ... if she could concede that letting someone hold her hand wasn’t the same as letting someone hold her up ... if she could make peace with changing addresses in the name of love ... it was possible Emma wouldn’t be the only one in Hope Harbor to find a happy ending as this summer waned.