Old Man Harris is at the counter, his white beard and thick glasses making him look exactly like he always did. His eyes twinkle when he sees me, and he stands up slowly to greet me, a smile spreading across his face.
“Well, look who’s back,” he says, his voice a mixture of surprise and affection.
“Hey, Mr. Harris,” I reply, offering a sheepish smile. I feel the tension in my shoulders as I step further into the store. “Mind if I talk shop for a bit?”
Harris doesn’t answer right away. He studies me, like he’s weighing the distance I’ve been gone against the person standing here now.
“There’s something I need to make right.” I say, trying to close the emotional space between us.
He folds his hands and leans back. “Shoot,” he says.
I swallow, voice steady, but just a hair rough around the edges. “I’ve been thinking. And I want to come back and work here. Even if just part-time. I really want to pitch in and help with whatever you need. This place means a lot to me. It always has.”
Harris nods slowly. “This isn’t exactly an easy place to run,” he says. “The days are long, the dust never really settles, and the inventory’s a constant headache. But it’s about consistency. Being here every single day, no matter what.”
“I know,” I say, meeting his gaze. “And I’m ready for it. I just need to feel like I’m doing something that matters. That I belong somewhere again.”
“I’ll tell you this, Cole,” he says, his voice soft but serious. “I’ve always imagined you taking over this place. Show me you want it. Start tomorrow. All on your own time. Sweep, stock, restock, clean up. Learn the catalog. I’ll give you some tasks. If after a week you’re still showing up, not just here. I’ll think about giving you something more official.”
My chest tightens. Not with disappointment, but with something fierce and determined. There’s your path, the unspoken part says. Walk it.
“Thank you,” I manage, feeling a weight lift off my chest. It’s as though the air around me is a little easier to breathe. “But I’m ready. I want to help, and I can prove that I’m capable.”
Harris leans forward, his gaze intense. “I want to hand off more responsibilities. I want to spend more time with my family, my grandkids. You’ve always had the potential, Cole. Show me I was right.”
I nod, my heart swelling with a mix of gratitude and excitement. This is it. This is my shot.
“Thank you, Mr. Harris,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “I won’t let you down. I’ll make you proud.”
“You’ve already made me proud, kid,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s yours.”
I can’t believe it. The store, the thing I’ve dreamed about for so long, is finally mine. This is my chance, and there’s no way I’m letting it slip away.
I leave the store with a huge grin on my face. The weight of everything that’s happened in the past few years feels lighter now. I can’t wait to tell Kenna. I pull out my phone as soon as Iget to the car, my fingers flying over the screen as I type out a message.
Me
Went job hunting today. Went to Old Man Harris’s store. Starting tomorrow. If it goes well, he’s thinking long-term. I’m finally doing something that feels right.
I hit send, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement. It doesn’t take long for her to respond.
Sunshine
That’s amazing, Cole!! I’m so proud of you.You’ve always had so much potential.
Her words hit me all at once, and I didn’t realize how badly I needed them until now. It’s rare to feel like someone’s truly in your corner, but knowing Kenna’s proud of me—that hits different. I catch myself grinning at my phone before firing off a reply, still a little stunned by how much it means.
Me
Thanks, Sunshine. That means more than you know.
I’m still riding the high when I walk through the front door. My phone’s buzzing in my pocket, but I don’t check it. I’m too amped.
Mom’s in the kitchen, of course. She’s always in the kitchen, and I can already hear clinking dishes and her humming softly to herself. It’s a comfort, the same way it’s always been. But today, it’s different. I can’t wait to tell her.
I lean against the doorframe and try to keep my excitement in check. “Mom, you’re not gonna believe this.”
She looks up from stirring something on the stove, raising an eyebrow. “What’s got you so worked up?” She wipes her hands on a dishtowel, her gaze softening as she takes in my face.
