On my way up to my apartment, I did my best to work up my nerve. You can do this. Chin up. People believe in you.
Sitting at my kitchen counter, I went over all the notes I’d taken over the last week, the lists of needs and wants I’d made, the approximate cost of equipment, ingredients, and employee time. I’d need at least one helper to start, but I wouldn’t be able to pay anyone full-time. I’d been thinking maybe I could find a college student, or even a high school student who was interested in baking and had time on the weekends.
Finally, I called the number on Maxima Radley’s card.
“Hello?” She sounded like she was in the car.
“Hi, Mrs. Radley, this is Frannie Sawyer from—”
“Frannie Sawyer, how are you? You got my note?”
“Yes. I’m—I was really glad you came in.”
“Well, I’m telling you, Frannie, this is meant. To. Be. My entire honeymoon, I kept thinking of what I could do for you, and then the very morning I get back to the office, I got a phone call from the daughter of a friend of my mother’s. They were in pageants together or something.” She laughed. “Anyway, this girl, her name is Natalie Haas, has owned this little coffee shop downtown for years and it’s doing really well, but she’s got a two-year-old son and she’s pregnant again, and apparently she runs another restaurant as well, so she needs to cut back.”
“What’s the name of it?” I asked, wondering if I’d ever been there.
“Coffee Darling.”
“Oh, I know that place!” I exclaimed. “It’s adorable. That’s the shop for sale?”
“Well, she’s not sure if she should sell the building, which she does own, or try to find a reliable tenant. She was looking for advice. Her dream scenario, actually, is to find someone to partner with. I thought of you immediately.”
My heart had started to race. “Did you tell her about me?”
“Not yet. But I just couldn’t help thinking that with her experience, and all the equipment in place, plus a built-in clientele, and your fresh new ideas and youth and energy—I see a home run.”
“I’d love to meet her,” I said breathlessly.
“Great! I’ll set up a meeting. In the meantime, why don’t you see if you can get down there and check out the spot? Look at it with your vision in mind and see what you think.”
I sat up taller. “I’ll definitely do that.”
“Perfect. I have to run, dear, but I’ll be in touch as soon as I connect with Natalie again.”
“Thank you so much,” I said.
We hung up, and I set the phone down and sat there for a moment, my stomach a tangled but excited mess of knots. For the first time, I felt like this thing really might happen.
I jumped off the stool and hummed a tune as I went into my room and changed into sweatpants and a hoodie. All this nervous energy inside me needed to burn off, and I could use some time to think as well. A walk outside in the brisk cold evening air would be perfect. The farm was beautiful in the summer, but I loved it in the winter too—the rolling hills blanketed with snow, the evergreens tall and majestic, the sky full of stars you couldn’t see in town because of all the lights. Everyone complained about the frigid northern Michigan weather—myself included—but I loved the seasons up here so much, I could never leave. And what was better than hot chocolate or Irish coffee or whiskey by the fire after you came in out of the cold?
For a moment, I wished Mack was around to walk and talk with me, but I knew he was probably already on his way home, and if I wasn’t mistaken, it was a Therapy Wednesday. But I texted him quickly.
Great news! Call when you can.
Then I stuck my phone and earbuds in my coat pocket, pulled on my mittens, and went out the door.
After my walk, I was sweaty beneath my winter layers, bursting with ideas to write down, and hungry for dinner, but decided to try again with my mom and dad. I was excited and needed to share my news with someone, and since April and Chloe were already gone for the day—their cars were not in the lot when I got back—my parents were my only option.
My mother had worked with me this week, but she hadn’t mentioned the scene at Sunday night’s dinner. She hadn’t spoken to me much at all, really, and she’d pointedly ignored the envelope Maxima Radley dropped off. It was strange for so much tension to exist between my mother and me—we’d always been close, and I didn’t like feeling as if we were on opposite sides of a divide.
But I wasn’t going to back down, and she needed to know it.
After pulling off my hat and mittens, I knocked on the door that led to their living room. My father answered, looking surprised to see me. “Hey, peanut. Come on in.”
“Hi, Dad. Mom around?”
“Yeah. She’s in the kitchen harassing me about retirement again.”
I followed him through the dining room into the kitchen, where my mother was stirring roasted Brussels sprouts in a dented old pan. “Hey, Mom,” I said, unzipping my coat. “Smells good.”
“I made chicken and rice,” she said. “Do you want to eat with us?”
“Sure.” I slid onto a seat at their kitchen table, where I’d grown up eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner almost every day of my life. Hot, healthy, homemade meals for seven people that I probably didn’t appreciate then, but realized now took a lot of time and effort and taught me to value real food, fresh ingredients, and time with family. It was something I wanted to pass on to my own children someday. I told myself to go easy on her.
“I thought we might talk again about my opening a pastry shop,” I said. “I have some news.”
My phone hummed with a call just as I was climbing into bed. It was Mack.
“Hello?”
“Hey. Sorry it took so long for me to call back.”
“That’s okay.” I hopped into bed and pulled the covers over my legs. “How was your night?”
“It was fine.” But he sounded tired. “I took them to therapy, then out for some dinner, but Winnie is still struggling to eat.”
“Poor thing.”
“Then Felicity freaked out that she didn’t have enough valentines for her entire class, so I had to run out to the drugstore. And Millie’s eye-rolling is out of control, but all in all, not a terrible night.”
I laughed. “Don’t take it to heart. She’s at that age. Eye-rolling is sort of an automatic reaction to anything your dad says.”
That prompted a groan. “I’m not looking forward to the teenage years.”
“Maybe it won’t be so bad. I wasn’t a sassy teenager.”
“No?”
“No, but that might have been a reaction to Chloe. She was as sassy as they come, and I saw how my parents struggled. I think I was trying to be the anti-Chloe.” I sighed. “I was a pleaser.”
“You still are.”
I smiled. “But guess what?”
“What?”
“I talked to Maxima Radley, and it went really well. Then I went down to tell my parents about it.”
“And?”
“And I convinced them that if they really loved me, they would support me in this. I told them that I was doing this with or without their support, but I’d much prefer to have it.”
“What did they say?”
“My dad asked me some practical questions. My mother mostly gave me the silent treatment. But in the end, it was my father who talked her into easing up on me.”
“Really? How?”
“It was pretty incredible. He said he’d been thinking about it all last night and all day today. He reminded her of how her family—which was wealthy and old money—had treated her when she announced she wanted to marry a guy she’d met at college who ran a family farm up north. And how they told her it was beneath her to run an inn. And how everyone told them they were crazy to buy more land and plant a vineyard.” I felt my throat getting tight as I described the next part. “Then he took her hand and reminded her how they’d always agreed that raising children was the hardest, most important job they’d ever do … but that the job was over. That even though they’re still parents, their children were all grown, and they had to trust that they’d raised smart, kind, responsible people unafraid to face the world and chase their dreams. Otherwise, he said, they’d have failed.”
“Wow. How’d she take it?”
“She shed a few tears. But in the end, she came around. She admitted that maybe her clinging to me had more to do with herself than with me. Her identity for so many years has been wrapped up in being an overprotective mother. Once that’s gone, she fears feeling lost. She doesn’t know what the next phase of her life is supposed to look like.”
He was silent a moment. “I can relate to that.”
“My dad told her it can look like anything she wants it to. He said maybe they should stop talking about traveling more and do it. Enjoy the years they’ve got left while they still feel young enough.”
“What did she say?”
I laughed. “She said three things. One, she’d love to travel more, especially to see her grandchildren. Two, she said it only works if he agrees to step back from work a bit, so he should really get a plan in place for his retirement. And three, she said she wants more grandchildren in her life. Then she gave me a look.”
“A look? What kind of look?”
“A look that says, Is there any hope of you giving me a grandchild in the future?”
He coughed. “You’ve got three other sisters. How come the pressure’s all on you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she figures April would have started a family if she’d wanted one by now? Or that Meg is too much of a career woman? Or that Chloe can’t be trusted to raise kids that aren’t little hellions like she was?”
“Do you even want kids?”
“Oh, definitely,” I said. “I’ve always wanted them. And I’ve asked the doctor if there’s any reason I might have a difficult time because of my heart, and he said no. I can absolutely have kids.”
“That’s … that’s good.”
I smiled, because I could hear the anxiety in his voice. “Don’t worry. I’m not in a rush.”
He laughed. “That’s even better.”
I filled him in on the details of my conversation with Maxima, and told him that I was waiting on her to get back to me about meeting Natalie Haas, owner of Coffee Darling.
“Oh yeah, I know that place. I think she was a Nixon. Sylvia and I graduated with her older sister, Jillian.”
“Really? Cool, I’ll mention that when I meet her.” I took a deep breath and wiggled my toes beneath the covers. “I don’t want to jinx myself, but I have such a good feeling about this.”
“Good.”
“I’m going to go check out the space as soon as I can.”
“I’m really happy for you, Frannie.”
“Thanks. I’m happy for myself.”
“Oh, shit. Hold on a sec.” There were muffled voices in the background, and then he came back. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Winnie is up. She heard something under her bed, so I have to go check for monsters.”
“That’s okay. Give her a hug from me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
I set my alarm and put my phone back on the nightstand, switched off my lamp and buried myself in the covers. It was probably way too premature to feel so positive about things, but I couldn’t help it.
My own business, more independence, Mack … all the things I wanted most in life were right within my grasp.
