Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Maude would have much rather been at the bake-off, hanging out with the other Queen Bees, but family had to come first. Maybe Althea wouldn’t make it, either; then Maude wouldn’t be the only one missing.
But what could she do? Robbie was on a serious deadline if he was going to make this arts and crafts fair with a decent amount of inventory.
So here they were, about to check out a space that Ollie’s friend, Calvin, had available. She really owed Ollie for this. He had come through in a big way. Also, it seemed like a sign from the universe that the place already smelled like sawdust.
She hadn’t expected that, but it hit her the moment Robbie slid the heavy metal door open.
Scents of wood, oil, and something faintly chemical drifted to them.
The space was long and narrow, the concrete floors scuffed and stained, the cinderblock walls painted an industrial battleship gray.
She wondered how many things had been built here.
Robbie stepped inside first, hands shoved into his pockets.
“Okay,” he said quietly.
Maude watched him take it in. The high ceiling.
The exposed metal trusses. Pairs of fluorescent light fixtures hummed at either end, hanging from chains.
There was a roll-up door at the back that she imagined would make loading and unloading a lot easier.
Along one wall, there was a small office space, its single window in dire need of cleaning.
“This looks pretty good,” Maude said. “And according to what Calvin told me on the phone this morning, you can pretty much do whatever you want in here. So long as you don’t burn it down.”
Robbie gave a short laugh but didn’t look at her. He was clearly focused on the possibilities. Maybe even arranging the space in his head. He crossed the floor slowly, crouched, and ran his hand over the concrete, picking up a few bits of sawdust.
He let them fall as he stood up and nodded at her, looking very much like he was trying not to crack a smile. Not to get overexcited about this. “This is a good space,” he said. “And there’s a lot of it.”
“Yeah, there is.” Maude nodded. She could practically see his vision. The workbench along the far wall, tools hanging neatly, half-finished pieces in the space where they belonged instead of crowding her tiny living room. Tunes and sawdust filling the air.
“And I’m sure it has the power you need,” she added. “Calvin said the last tenant did light fabrication. Cabinets, mostly. That should be enough for you, right?”
“Definitely.” Robbie’s eyes were bright in a way she hadn’t seen in a while. “I could build here. Like…really build. Anything.”
Maude leaned against the wall, arms folded, letting him have the moment. “This isn’t a storage unit, either,” she said. “It’s got an office. It could legitimately be your shop. You could have customers in here.”
He walked the length of the space, measuring it in steps. “I could set up sample pieces at one end. Tables. Benches. Beds. Maybe some end tables, dressers. Things people can order. Things I could make a living from.”
She smiled. His excitement was visible now, the sparks in his eyes uncontainable. “That’s what I was thinking.”
At the rear of the space, Robbie pushed open the door to the little office and took a look.
“I could do designs in here,” he said. “Set up my laptop. Keep the work and the business separate.”
Maude caught the way he said could instead of would, the words edged carefully with hope.
“What’s the catch?” he asked finally, turning to her. “Because I feel like there must be one. It’s too good.”
“There’s no catch. Calvin’s giving us a deal. Rent’s reasonable and month-to-month,” Maude said. “And before you ask, yes, I’m willing to loan you the money for this place, too.”
He straightened. “Just a loan. Because I will pay you back.”
“Yep,” she said, glad he’d mentioned that. “But when you can. No rush, because I know it’s not going to happen overnight.”
Robbie nodded slowly. “No, it won’t, but it will happen. I just have to work hard and make a good showing at the arts and crafts fair. Enough to get things started.”
They stood there a moment longer, the hum of the lights filling the quiet.
Outside, traffic passed and somewhere a horn honked.
Life continued as usual. But inside the flex space, something really good was taking shape.
The possibilities were as endless as Robbie’s imagination.
She knew he’d work hard. His work ethic had never been the issue.
Maude smiled to herself. She took one last look around the space, then turned to Robbie. “So, do you want it?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he walked the length of the room once more, slower this time, stopping near the wall where a workbench would probably go. When he turned to her, his expression held more hard determination than she’d ever seen in him before.
“Yes,” he said. “I do.”
“All right,” she said, reaching for her phone. Keeping her voice businesslike even though she felt a small surge of satisfaction, she said, “I’ll call Calvin back.”
She stepped a few feet away while it rang. Calvin answered on the third ring. She told him they were in, confirmed the terms, and said they’d swing by his office later that afternoon.
“That works,” Calvin said. “I’ll have the paperwork ready.”
Maude hung up the phone and nodded at Robbie. “You’re officially in business.”
Robbie let out a breath and smiled like he couldn’t really believe it. “Wow. I guess I am.” He walked over and hugged her. “Thank you for this. For everything.”
She hugged him tight. “You’re welcome.”
He was quiet the entire drive back, no doubt his mind a whirlwind of ideas, filled with planning now instead of worry. When they arrived at Maude’s place, Robbie didn’t even go inside. He stood by his truck, seemingly running through a checklist in his head.
“As soon as you give me that check, I’m going to head over there,” he said. “Then I can start moving tools in and getting things rearranged. It’ll be good to empty my truck out.”
“Don’t overdo it the first day,” Maude said. “I know you’re eager but pace yourself.”
He nodded. “I will. But I want to do this right, and I have to be ready for that fair.”
“I know that, too. Hang on, I’ll get you the check.” She went in, wrote it out, and came back outside to hand it to him.
He took it and smiled. “You really are a good sister.”
“The best, really.”
He smirked, but nodded.
She watched him drive off, feeling that rare mix of relief and responsibility. This was real now. He had to do this.
But she had work of her own. Inside, Maude poured herself a glass of water, settled in at her desk, and opened her laptop. She got set up to build a new webpage, starting by typing Robbie’s name at the top, then she paused.
“What are we calling you,” she murmured. She glanced at Pixel. “Probably best just to keep it simple for now.”
Robbie Harrigan Furniture, she typed, then kept going with a simple layout, space for photos once he had them, a short bio that focused on craftsmanship, years of experience, and the legacy of their grandfather.
She made notes to herself about pricing pages, custom orders, contact forms, all stuff she’d talk to Robbie about later.
As she worked, her phone buzzed with a single message from Robbie. Got the keys.
Good, she answered. She smiled and got back to work. This part, at least, she knew how to do.
After a few more minutes, she leaned back in her chair and stared at the rough outline of the website, the cursor blinking patiently as it waited on her next move. Robbie Harrigan Furniture. Simple, but that suited him.
She pictured the pieces he’d talked about making—solid tables, benches that looked like they belonged to people who actually used them, shelves meant to hold weight instead of just looking good in photos.
Nothing trendy or flashy. Just beautiful and useful.
The kind of things people kept when they moved.
The kind of things that lasted generations.
That thought stayed with her.
Robbie didn’t need a brand that was loud.
He needed one that felt dependable. She could see how it would probably grow slowly, the way the best things usually did.
A few orders from the arts and crafts fair.
A couple of custom pieces. Maybe a local restaurant wanting a host stand or built-ins down the road.
She rubbed her thumb along the edge of the desk, thinking.
She could help with photos once the first pieces were finished, just like she’d helped Blaise.
And she could write the copy in a way that sounded like him—straightforward, no-nonsense.
She could even set him up with a simple order form so he didn’t have to navigate emails and texts at all hours.
She could handle the parts that made him tense so he could focus on the work.
Maude exhaled slowly. She didn’t want to manage his life. And she wasn’t going to. She’d made that promise to herself already. But she knew the difference between hovering and lending a hand. Between rescuing and supporting.
If Robbie stayed focused and put in the work, she could do the same for him.
She straightened in her chair and started typing again, adding a section titled Custom Work. That was a good way to let people know what was possible.
Sometimes, she thought, helping also meant holding back. It meant giving someone the room for growth.
And that was really what she wanted for her brother. A way to grow. A way for him to find his place in the world. If she could help him with that, she’d be happy.