Patton: The falling in lovepart.
Me: What about it?
Patton: Did you mean it?
This is the moment where I either tell the truth or deflect.
Me: Yes. I meant it.
The typing bubbles blink, then disappear. Tears sting my eyes—the good kind, the overwhelming kind. He must have been called back. I set down my phone, heart aflame, and finally drift off to sleep.
Sun streaming through the window,I wake to my phone ringing. Panic floods me as last night surfaces as if from a dream, no a nightmare. Is Patton okay? Only, it’s my brother.
“Hey, Fab,” I answer groggily.
“Win, I talked to a lawyer.” He sounds different. Hopeful?
I sit up. “And?”
“There might be a way to save the restaurant. It’s complicated and involves restructuring and probably some creative financing, but it’s possible.”
“Really?”
“Really. But we’d need professional help. Maybe a business consultant or—” He pauses. “I was thinking about Patton’s bakery. How they structured that. Do you think he’d be willing to share information?”
I think about Patton at Crush Cakes, surrounded by paperwork and permits and plans. How he navigated the captain’swill and the six-month requirement alone, much like I did with my attempts to save Sorrentino’s.
“I can ask him,” I say.
“Thanks, Win. And hey—I’m sorry I put so much pressure on you to fix this alone.”
“You didn’t?—”
“I did. We all did. It wasn’t fair. This is our family’s problem. Not just yours.”
The relief that washes over me sends me back into my pillows. “Thanks, Fab.”
“And, uh, this is all contingent on whether or not Mom and Dad even want to keep the restaurant.”
“They’re not thinking about retiring, are they?”
“No, but, get this?—”
There’s chatter in the background, a mixture of Italian and English.
“They’re considering consolidating, buying a food truck, and going part time, picking events and locations when they want to work. It would be on a smaller scale and mobile, but they might be ready for change.”
Fully alert, I tell him how wonderful I think this news is. It’s like they were holding onto the old with a death grip and this is just what they needed to shake things up. He tells me that they’re open to options, but are already researching vans and trucks.
We talk a little more and after we hang up, I lie back down, processing.
Maybe the restaurant isn’t entirely lost. Maybe there’s a way forward, even if it’s different from what has been. Perhaps things are starting to look up.
My phone buzzes again.
Mindy: Coffee date to discuss the bet and your love life? Please say yes. I need details.
A laugh trickles out of me.
