Tallulah
Iplaced detox tea, herbal supplements, and two lavender sachets in the bag. "Will that be all for you?" I asked.
"Yes."
Miss Cross was one of my regular customers and had come in for her monthly supply of detox tea and vitamins. She was a real estate agent and always wore tailored suits, with her silver hair styled in a curly bob.
"How is the new landlord? Rumor has it they're planning renovations to the building, which should be good for you and the other tenants. I heard the old landlord was slow to make repairs." She handed over her credit card.
"I'd like to think our situation will improve with the new owners, but we're worried they'll increase the rent and price us out of the building."
Tyler, Leslie, and I had made progress putting together ideas since the tenants' meeting. All the owners had supplied the information we needed for the log, so we knew when all the leases would expire. I had nine months left on mine.
Tyler had learned that renovations typically started small, with minor improvements like painting and signage changes within sixty days of purchase. During that time, the ownersfinalized plans for the greater capital expenditures, such as renovating the common areas and upgrading the lighting. By the time they finished with the changes, they could rebrand the building as a luxury location to justify the rent hike.
Miss Cross pursed her lips. "I hope you're wrong, but those tactics are the way of the world nowadays. The big guys force out the little guys. Just know that wherever you land, I'll follow."
"Thanks," I said, shooting her a grateful smile as I tore the receipt off the register.
I hoped I didn't have to leave at all. I wasn't only worried about finding a new place I could afford. I was part of a community here in the building. We all had regular customers and received decent foot traffic because of our location. We supported each other, recommending our products and services to customers, all of which would be lost.
When Miss Cross finished signing, I handed her the bag of products. "Say a little prayer for us."
"I will, and I'm sure you'll be fine. Take care, and I'll see you next month."
As she was the last customer of the day, the door automatically locked behind her.
I hurriedly counted down the register and put the day's deposits in the safe in the back. Blossom had agreed to let Shelley design the wedding cake, and she had roped me into attending the cake tasting with her and Manuel this evening.
So far, the wedding prep was chugging along, though there had been a few hiccups. Since Blossom couldn't contribute financially, she had insisted on planning the wedding instead of hiring a coordinator. A terrible idea, in my opinion, but according to her, she wanted to do more than just show up.
She had chosen Keke as her maid of honor and two friends to be bridesmaids. Somehow, one of her friends from college had assumed she would be in the wedding party, resulting in hurtfeelings, a tearful phone call, and Blossom having to reassure her that the only reason she wasn't included was because they had made a decision to have a small wedding.
Then there was the invitation typo fiasco, which I still didn't understand how it had happened. Blossom and Manuel had skipped the formal invitation and sent out digital save-the-date cards directing invitees to the wedding website. Before sending the electronic card, Manuel had reviewed the invitation—so he said. I had also taken a look, and not one of the three of us had caught the typo with the wrong date until Keke called, confused.
We spent two days sending follow-up emails and texts and encouraging everyone to check the website, which always had current information.
Perhaps the most stressful incident had occurred when the green chairs Blossom chose ended up costing significantly more than the plain white ones she had originally seen. She was leaning into an autumn palette for the wedding, which included burgundy, olive green, and terracotta. The combination of colors leaned warm and earthy, making me think of comfort and permanence instead of flash and fuss.
Apparently, more color meant greater cost, and she hadn't wanted Manuel to cover it, so her father and I agreed to take on the additional cost after Karl negotiated them down to a lower price point. Being cheap had its advantages.
I picked up my jacquard-designed cotton bag and slung it over my shoulder. When I was almost to the door, Blossom called.
Wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear, I answered. "Hi, my love."
"Mom, thank goodness I caught you!" she said, sounding out of breath.
I stopped at the door. "What's going on?"
"I'm so sorry, but my interview ran over, and I missed the bus. I'm going to catch a Lyft to the bakery, but unfortunately, I'll be late. Manuel sent me a text, and he's caught in traffic on the other side of town after leaving a client's office. The two of you will have to start the tasting without us."
I immediately tensed, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. "The two of us?"
"Oh, I didn't tell you? Manuel invited his father since Shelley allows four people at the tasting. Can you handle the appointment until we get there?"
Her announcement had shaken me.
"Of course, but you're only allotted an hour at the bakery. What if you don't arrive on time?"
