Beaufort Candy Company always provided pies and fudge made in-house along with a few trays of leftover Thanksgiving candy.A full-service kitchen beyond the back wall of the shop, which no one in the store would ever know existed if the sweet aromas didn’t give away the secret, allowed Noel and Mrs.Madelyn to create most of the bakery items as well as a lot of the candy on display.It often surprised tourists when they explained that nearly everything was made from scratch on the premises.
Living upstairs helped Noel keep up with supply and demand.In the evenings after the shop closed, she could scurry in and out of the kitchen preparing and baking for the next day while the kids worked on homework, watched a movie, or played outside.Once they went to bed, she often spent an hour or two downstairs taking care of the final touches and refilling the displays.
Selling their old house after the tragic boating accident that took the lives of her husband, mother, father, and sister-in-law had been the only viable option.Before that, her parents lived upstairs.Noel never wanted to sell the house she bought with her husband, but with only one income, she couldn’t afford the mortgage.She and Fletcher talked about life insurance for years but never got around to making it happen.
Learning the hard way, she now encouraged everyone, especially those with children, to pick a plan immediately.She even mentioned it to random strangers when a conversation ignited in the shop.Her parents’ term policies ran out years ago limiting their inheritance to the candy shop and the apartment above which Noel thanked God for daily; otherwise, she didn’t know where she and the kids would live.In some ways their living quarters came as an upgrade since not many families her age owned a waterfront residence.For that, she remained grateful.
Noel knew about a decline in candy sales recently but didn’t realize the hole her parents dug to keep the place open.Come to find out, they hadn’t been paying themselves like they used to; only she and Mrs.Madelyn’s salaries showed up in the books that her father guarded so tightly.On the one hand she found it sweet that they gave up an income to keep Beaufort Candy Company in business, but at the same time she wished she knew, so she could have had the option to plan for her future accordingly or possibly come up with ideas to increase business.However, the new things she tried so far hadn’t helped the bottom line.
“Unless a miracle happens tomorrow, the store will be in the red after Black Friday,” Noel told Mrs.Madelyn when they found a moment alone in the kitchen where the pies for today’s event waited to be delivered via the little red wagons the kids liked to play with.
“I’m so sorry, darling,” Mrs.Madelyn replied sincerely.“You have worked so hard this year to move the store into the black.”
When setting the goal earlier in the year, Noel researched the true meaning of Black Friday and found it seemed debatable and ultimately mingled over time.One explanation came from the idea that retailers hoped to move out of the red negative numbers and into the black positive ones by or on this day each year.Apparently this thought process began circulating in the 1980s; however, historically, the title referred to throngs of factory workers claiming sickness to prolong their holiday break.Later, traffic officers in Philadelphia used the term to describe long shifts and terrible traffic due to holiday shopping coinciding with an annual football game.Regardless of the origin, the term stuck, and now retailers like Noel hoped for significant sales volume on Black Friday.
“We,” Noel corrected.“We have worked so hard.You have put in more hours than ever before,” she reminded her friend who had been like an aunt to her growing up.Somehow in the wake of the tragedy, Mrs.Madelyn seamlessly took on the role of the adult mother turned best friend whom Noel missed dearly.
“I wish I could do more.”
“You do more than your share,” Noel reminded her.She initially thought she could hire employees to take on the hours her parents put into the shop although she doubted anyone would be able to match the output their experience afforded.However, since they hadn’t been drawing a salary, the funds to hire additional help didn’t exist.
“Honestly, I am not sure how long I can keep it up,” Mrs.Madelyn revealed.The demands of Halloween and Thanksgiving at the candy shop took a toll on her body.“Being on my feet all day wears me out more than it used to; I could once skip around this store like you do.Your mother, God rest her soul, and I both could.”
The two of them had acted like sisters and were the best of friends.They went to grade school together, graduated high school the same year, and worked in the candy store pretty much their whole lives.Mrs.Madelyn married a farmer whose family owned a successful farm, so she never needed much income.Early on she helped at the shop for fun, but in more recent years she helped out of need, and Noel could tell her joy faded at times.
“You know you don’t have to pay me, Noel.”
“There is no way I am taking advantage of completely free labor,” Noel rebutted.
“What do you mean by completely free labor?”
“I know you have been clocking in well after arrival and clocking out way before you leave.”
“Honey, I’m old, it takes time to put away my purse, drink a little coffee, indulge in a bakery item, and take care of all the other personal things I don’t intend to do on the clock.”
Noel laughed.“We both know you work way more hours than you get paid for.”
Mrs.Madelyn waved a hand.“Minor details,” she responded, brushing aside the truth.“If I cut back, how will you afford to hire someone to compensate for the extra hours?”
Noel fought back the tears springing up inside her.“I will have to find a way.Maybe I can put in more time myself.”
“Sweetheart, you run on fumes,” she noted.“Those children deserve your free time more than this shop needs it.”
“What other option do I have?”
“You can always sell the store.”
Noel closed her eyes, tucked her lips inward, and bit down.Of course the idea of selling the candy shop filtered through her mind a time or two, especially when sifting through the numbers in the wee hours of the morning.
Mrs.Madelyn continued, “This location has a lot of value.That would give you enough to buy a cute little house somewhere and take care of your needs while you get your feet on the ground with a new career.”
“I can’t talk about this, not today,” Noel admitted with tears streaming down her cheeks.She already lost so much; she couldn’t fathom voluntarily letting go of the legacy her family built.“This is supposed to be a happy day.”
Mrs.Madelyn’s ensuing bear hug swallowed Noel.When the kids came running into the kitchen, Noel wiped her tears on one of the woman’s broad shoulders and sucked up the ones yet to fall.
“Hey kiddos,” Mrs.Madelyn called out while giving Noel time to pull herself together.
“What’s wrong?”Laney asked.
