“Do you have a space yet?” I asked, taking a sip of the cold brew that was so rich and powerful, I coughed. “Basically, where can I stop every morning to get this?”
Carla, the older of the two women, laughed deep. “Not yet. Right now, we’re just selling here and at a cart at the business center downtown.”
“What’s stopping you from going full-out?”
“Money, hon. Money.” She sighed and clapped her hands before putting her arm around her partner and shrugging. “It’s always money. I swear, if I won the lottery tomorrow, I’d open up this baby in a day.”
An idea formed. It started as an itch, like a tiny annoying spot in my mind I couldn’t quite reach or grab.
A woman and a young boy ordered a cookie and a hot chocolate. Carla smiled at them, filling their order without any rush. It wasn’t just a grab ‘n’ go table. She talked to people. She cared. She loved what they did and had a vision for it.Didn’t our foundation have a vision?Didn’t we have a plan and put the right pieces in place to make it happen? We functioned off donations, but them…they could get funds.
What if they got a starter loan?
I knew people.
“Have you applied for a loan yet?”
She smiled like it was the dumbest question in the world. “Sure did, hon, but no one would take us on without experience or collateral.” She shrugged, defeat evident on her face and shoulders.
I rubbed the back of my neck a couple of times, and my face got hot. If I used my influence, I could help them. I’d vouch for them, for sure. How did one exactly offer this? How did one sayhey, I have connections to help you start this?Was that a power move? Was that too pompous?
Carla narrowed her eyes at me for a beat, and I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I looked like a dope.
“You okay there, son?”
“How much would you need to get launched? Do you have investors? Have you thought about getting an investor? Do you have a business plan?” I asked all the questions in one breath, and I felt a little of what Nora did when she said she didn’t need caffeine. This felt like a high. A buzz I hadn’t felt in…years. “Forgive my intrusive questions, but I might know a guy who invests in local businesses and start-ups. I’d have to ask him, but this…your cart, your story you’ve shared with me, he might be interested. Can I mention it to him to maybe reach out?”
“What?” Carla took a step back.
“Yeah.” I smiled and blew out a long breath. “It sounds insane, I know, but…”
Nora was approaching the table andfuck.I didn’t want her knowing I had connections—what if she realized I was Anthony? Or this blew my cover?
“Look, do you have a card? Can I call you to potentially set something up?”
“Yes, yes, of course, I just…why are you doing this?” Carla blinked a lot and handed me a business card, her cheeks tinging red as her partner stared me down with mistrust. I didn’t blame her. This wasn’t the proper protocol.
“I want to make a difference in our community,” I said, the truth grounding me in a way my job hadn’t in years. Hearing Nora talk about involving the guy with jewelry, how she wanted to include small artists in her plan…it sparked something in me. She had so many obstacles to overcome, yet her passion and drive never wavered. Even when her idea seemed impossible, she never went off path, and I could channel some of that energy. “I’ll call you and set you up with the right people.”
“Fritz! Oh, is this the coffee you were all gung ho about?” She slid up to me and nodded to the card in my hand. “Did you grab the card for me? Are you looking to sell your coffee at a greenhouse by chance?”
Carla eyes widened in surprise, and I guided Nora away from the table. “I’ll talk to you later, Carla.”
She waved, and Nora frowned for a second before seeing another table filled with pottery. The large bag of vegetables swung on her side and hit me a few times as she went up to the table with plant pots and her eyes got all crazy again.
“New homes for your children?” I asked, totally messing with her, and I didn’t expect her to throw her head back and laugh. She reached over to squeeze my forearm, like my comment amused her so much that she needed help with her balance. I wasn’t complaining. I liked seeing her small hand on my arm.Reallyliked it.
“Oh, that was good. Very good.” She cackled again and let go of me. She got closer to the table and ran a finger over the rim of a brown pot. “You’re not wrong per se. Theykindaare like homes for them.”
“You name them. So…it’s not far off saying the pots are homes.”
“Hm.”
She tuned me out as she studied the various sizes, and I couldn’t help but smile at her as she touched every one and lifted it up, examined it, before nodding to herself. Her mind had to be a wild place with all those crazy thoughts. While she used another one of the twenties I gave her to buy a bright-red pot, I scanned the booths nearby and wondered how many of them were like Carla, dying to open a spot but needed funding.
How many of them tried for loans but couldn’t get it for lame reasons? Why wouldn’t banks take a chance on a small business?
My heart sped up thinking about the potential for them. An organic coffee bar. A totally green restaurant with zero waste. They would provide jobs for the community, a place for people to go, and there could even be partnerships with schools or animal shelters. They could have local artists perform there or sell work. Nora’s eclectic greenhouse idea sparked a million thoughts about all the possibilities, and my mind raced with excitement. Something I hadn’t felt in a while.
