Claire’s phone chimed in her pocket. She pulled it free, staring uncomprehendingly at the garble of numbers on the screen.Who would be calling me from…?She squinted at the screen.What’s that country code?
Tammi!Her daughter was on a last-fling-before-settling-into-a-real-job overseas trip and had picked up a prepaid phone to use while in Europe. Claire punched the button to answer the call before she missed her chance. Breathless, she held the phone to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom. Are you busy?”
“No,” Claire answered at once, even though she should relieve Hailey soon for the end of her shift. Guiltily, she twisted to glance through the opening leading to the front of the store. Hailey’s dark hair, which was twisted up into a messy bun at the top of her head, bobbed in and out of view as she smoothly cleaned the front counter and handled the occasional customer. “How’s… France?”
“Germany, now. And it’s great. We’re having the best time!”
Claire listened with only half an ear, positioning herself for more privacy as her daughter recounted the adventures she’d had over the past week with her friends. Although Claire had worried about her daughter in a foreign country, she had to remind herself that Tammi was an adult now, and she had a good head on her shoulders. Plus, she’d convinced her two best friends to accompany her. Safety in numbers. Between them, they knew enough words in local languages to get by.
“That’s great.” Claire put the mixing bowl and spatulas into the sink.
“Mom?” Tammi asked, almost tentatively. “Is everything all right?”
“Of course,” Claire answered, forcing a smile as if a table separated her from her daughter rather than the thousands of miles and ocean between them.
“You know I can tell when you’re worried about something, right? What’s going on?”
Claire sighed. As much as she didn’t want Tammi to worry about her, she couldn’t lie. Tammi would know if she did, and she was working on not treating her like a child. “Honestly, it’s nothing. There’s another bakery moving into Lobster Bay, that’s all. I’m a little worried about how much competition it will be, which is silly. They only bake bread.”
On the other end of the line, tinny with distance, Tammi laughed. “Why are you worried? If someone else is moving in, out-market them. You’ve already got a dedicated client base. This other place won’t last.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is, Mom. I was a marketing major in college, remember? I know what I’m talking about. Take a few ads out in the local paper and online. Arrange for a special sale or discount day for seniors or students. Make a few flyers to promote it or maybe some coupons. Everyone will be flocking to your store and ignoring this new place. Trust me.”
The idea of people flocking to Sandcastles was appealing. Maybe she should take Tammi’s advice and show this Bradford Breads person who the better baker was. But Claire knew nothing about marketing. Then again, she had Tammi for backup.
“I’ve never really done much to advertise. What do I do?” Claire asked.
“That’s a testament to how awesome your place is. But it won’t hurt to get more people in. Like I said, it’s easy. I would start with some coupons or maybe a special sale. Just take out an ad in the local paper. Maybe put a banner up outside the store.”
Claire glanced through the front window. A banner right under the awning certainly would attract a lot of people. Business was good, but more customers were always welcome. And how much could ads cost? She could use some of her savings because surely the leak Sally was working on wouldn’t costthatmuch.
“Look, if you want, I can sit down with you after I’m back from my trip. We can hammer this out together.”
“Oh, I can figure it out,” Claire said, her voice falsely bright. “Easy peasy.” The last thing Claire wanted was for Tammi to think she was floundering, because she wasn’t. She also didn’t want her to think that she was a ditz who couldn’t figure out how to run a few ads on her own. Claire might not have done everything right in her life, but the one thing she wanted to show her daughter was that she could be successful on her own merits. If Claire was following her dream and running a successful business, she hoped her daughter would be inspired to do the same.
“Great!” Tammi said. “Okay. Well, I have to go, Mom. Love you!”
“Love you.” Claire’s answer was automatic and heartfelt.
Marketing.It was such a foreign word, and despite what Tammi had suggested, Claire didn’t know where to start or with what money. She had seven thousand dollars in her savings account. Hopefully that would be enough for a few ads with some left for the repairs.
The rattle and muttering from the back had stopped. Claire frowned, wondering if it was safe to approach Sally yet. Cautiously, she moved toward the source of the noise.
“Sally?”
The seventy-year-old woman stepped out of the back. There was a smudge of grease along one of her cheekbones and a few more on her overalls. The handywoman with her snowy-white hair braided tightly down her back and her shrewd blue eyes cleaned her hands on a rag. “Ayuh?”
“Have you…?” Claire cringed to ask. “Have you found the source of the leak? Was it an easy fix?”
“Not this time, honey. I’m afraid it’s those pipes of yours. Won’t last much longer.” The creases in Sally’s face deepened in sympathy even as she delivered the news in her matter-of-fact way.
Pipes?Claire didn’t know anything about plumbing. Faintly, she asked, “How much will it cost for you to fix?”
