Chapter 6 Dawsen
Dawsen
I’ve spent most of the day re-arranging the winery to fit the extra tables that Greg suggested we’d need for the event.
Greg is my lead bartender by night and shop manager by day, and apparently he’s also head of marketing, because he’s the one who has pushed this event so hard.
It’s been a lot of work, and I don’t really like having to focus on it so much, as I’d rather focus on the business side of things, but he and Savannah, my other shop employee, have handled all the details, to which I’m eternally grateful.
Event planning is definitely not my forte.
He projected that we’d have the biggest turnout this year since I’ve taken over the winery here in town and have done a full re-brand.
Saddlebrooke Winery was originally owned and operated by Susan and Doug Andersen for the last 40 years.
They’re kind of legends around here, and the winery is one of the top tourist spots in town, but as they’d gotten older—they’d lost steam and let the winery fall by the wayside quite a bit.
When the news started to circulate that they were thinking of selling, I jumped on the opportunity and did everything I could to secure it for myself.
I brought a bouquet of handpicked wildflowers to Susan every week for two months before they decided to sell it to me.
Buying the winery just made sense to me from a business standpoint—it literally shares a wall with my shop, and we have history. Nobody was going to take better care of it than I would—this I promised Susan in the form of notes I’d attach to the wildflowers every week.
Roan Mercantile has been in my family since I was just a little boy.
It was always my Pop’s dream to own a general store.
He and my Mema poured everything they had into this little shop.
It was perfectly curated, full of unique souvenirs, tasteful decor items, local honeys, baked goods, and small thrifted trinkets.
My Mema had a knack for finding the best things. I guess that’s where my mom got it.
Roan Mercantile was attached to Saddlebrooke Winery, and as a young boy, I’d hang out in the shop with my Pop and we’d often head next door after closing up to visit with Doug and Susan.
“Well it must be my lucky day!” Is what Susan would greet me with every time we’d stroll in.
She’d always cup the side of my face with her hand and give me the warmest smile.
She’s the type of woman who makes you feel loved without any per-requisites. Whether you deserve it or not.
She’d always keep a jar of chocolate covered pretzels for me behind the tasting counter.
I’d snack while Pop and Doug talked about fishing, and other business matters.
The shop and the winery were just part of who I was.
I guess I felt like they were both weaved into me.
Like, even though they were just businesses.
Buildings. I had a kindred relationship with them.
I ended up inheriting Roan Mercantile when my Pop and Mema passed away.
I was in the thick of business school when I became the sole owner of the shop and I won’t lie, the first couple of years were tough.
I didn’t have a clue how to run a business, the stress of not wanting to let my Pop down, and the pressure I was putting on myself to turn it into something even more special—it was a lot.
Greg came into the shop one day and told me he wanted to work for me.
Greg was about my dad’s age, he was born and raised in this town.
He was a successful pilot who had retired earlier that year.
I remember shutting him down immediately letting him know that I couldn’t even pay myself, let alone anyone else.
“I want to work for you, for free. I love this shop, and I believe in you. Let’s do this together.”
I’ll never forget that day. My throat felt hot, and I had to fight back tears, and ever since, Greg has been here—not taking ‘no’ for an answer.
The first time our shop started making a profit, the first check I wrote was to Greg.
He didn’t accept it, and actually ripped it to shreds in front of me. Later that night I showed up at his house, new check in hand, and told him, “It’s not up to you who I pay.” I left before he could speak, and as I turned away, I added “cash the check, asshole.”
He laughed and shut the door.