Lola
You’re mad.
I’m picking you up from a police station, Lola. I’m more than mad.
I didn’t know who else to call.
- Conversation between Lola, age 17, and Roman, age 24
I’m sittingcross-legged in the middle of the shop, my eyes closed as I play my mantra like a hit song in my head. “I can do hard things,” I say the words under my breath, visualizing the shell of the hardware store transforming into my dream coffee shop. “I can do hard things. I can do hard things.”
Feet scuff to a stop beside me. “Uh, Lola, can you maybe do hard things somewhere that’s not the middle of the space you hired me to renovate?”
I blink my eyes open and crane my neck to look at Henry, my contractor. His long hair is tied in a low ponytail and held backby a light blue bandana. Awkward amusement glimmers in his eyes.
He’s thin as a pine tree but his biceps bulge as he holds the wood for the coffee bar on his shoulder. “So, uh, what do you think about that whole moving out of the way thing? I mean you’re the boss so it’s up to you but…”
“Right, sorry!” I hop up and clear his path.
Henry arrived on the dot at eight this morning and he’s already cleared the old shelving units out and cut the wood for the coffee bar that’s going to run along either side of the door and look out through the glass shop front.
He’s great and the only reason I can afford him is because he’s twenty-two and just starting out. It was a risk, but he’d showed me the work he’d done on his and his fiancée’s apartment, including this adorable castle crib he’d made for his future baby girl, and I’d fallen in love.
I move out of his way and join Skyler over by what was formerly the check out.
The design plans for the coffee shop are spread out on the counter alongside an inventory of the stock we’ll need.
Skyler runs through the list, comparing prices from different wholesalers for the small selection of pastries I want to stock.
I already know who I’m getting my coffee from because I made a deal with the Oliviera brothers while I was staying in Brazil. It was from their shop that Scott got that first cup of coffee which set me on this whole path.
I hop up onto the counter and look out at my shop. Henry is measuring for the bar, a pencil gripped between his teeth. We helped him pull up the flooring this morning, so dust and debris still litter the space, but it already looks better without the old, gray linoleum.
I gaze at the large piece of driftwood leaned up against the wall, ready for the shop name to be burned into it and butterfliesflutter in my stomach. I can’t believe this is actually happening. I spent years drawing up plans for this business and now it actually exists, right in front of me.
Skyler plants her elbow on the counter and rests her chin in her hand. “No, you go ahead and daydream while Henry and I do all the hard work, it’s really no problem.”
The corner of my lip curls up. “I got told off for meditating in the construction space.”
Skyler flicks her French braid over her shoulder and turns back to the laptop. “Well, try a little harder. If you master levitation, you won’t be in the way as much.”
“Funny. If you master how to talk to your boss, you won’t get fired as much.”
She sticks her tongue out at me and turns the laptop so I can see the screen. “What about this one? She’s not wholesale but she’s local so could hand deliver and we only want a small amount, right?”
I lean over and look at the cute pink and white website. Mouth-watering photos of handmade croissants and muffins are displayed below the site name, Maddy’s Bakes.
“Those look incredible. Remind me why I skipped breakfast?”
“Because you moved into a storage room which didn’t come pre-stocked with groceries and you’re too lazy to go shopping.”
My mouth drops open. “I have things to do,” I protest.
“Like talk to Jarred about buying his apples?”
I jump off the counter and drum my fingers against my leggings. “I’m getting to that.”
“No, you’re procrastinating. It’s a good deal, he’ll go for it.” Skyler picks up her phone. “You visit Jarred, I’ll call Maddy and hold down the fort with Henry.”
