I took a deep breath. Time to get it all out in the open. “I need some perspective, and maybe some advice.”
Dad nodded and settled back on his seat, giving me his full attention. “Okay. What’s going on?”
I pulled over Deke’s work stool and sat down. Dad listened carefully when I told him more details about the coffee shop now going in across the street. I was proud of myself for my careful choice of words, not accusing, as factual and logical as I could manage. I did falter a little when I informed him of the fact Connor was also making his own cakes, and I didn’t share about my tumble while digging through his dumpster. That was just too embarrassing. Still, I managed to make it through everything else without crumbling like an over-baked cookie, and I counted that as a win.
“I know it sounds like I’m whining,” I said at last, “but I always thought Jingle Junction was about lifting others up. That’s what we do here. We all get along. We don’t have two flower shops for a reason, or two Mercantiles. The town is small, but it survives on tourist business. So, why pit citizens against each other? Just have them fulfill a specific need. And that’s what Jingle Junction has done ever since it was founded.” My confidence increased as I raised my chin and challenged my dad for the first time in my life. “Now, suddenly, we’re changing the rules and what’s expected because some famous candy maker is setting up shop?”
I could tell my dad was thinking over what I’d said, and I did my best not to let his long pause undermine my determination.
“First of all,” Dad said, “I wasn’t aware of the additions to the shop, and I can understand why you’d be concerned. I’ll speak to Connor myself and remind him of the contract he signed.”When I opened my mouth to respond, he put up a hand to stop me. “But that can only go toward the cakes, Ivy. Nothing else. Your bakery isn’t officially a coffee shop. In fact, if one of the townspeople decided they wanted to try their hand at opening a coffee shop, I feel they should have that opportunity. It’s a sideline you added much later than when that bakery was founded, so I think that’s fair.”
I nodded. “Okay. I understand that.”
I did understand, even if I was a bit disappointed.
Dad’s brow furrowed as he continued to stare at me. “The best thing to do in these sorts of situations is to speak to the other person directly. Have you tried talking to Connor about the cake and coffee additions?”
Time to put my cards on the table.
I felt a wave of shame as I covered my face with my hands. “Yes! And it was awful!” I lowered my hands and groaned. “Dad, you know how nervous I get around certain people.”
My father smiled. “I do, indeed. You’ve always been that way.”
“Well, he’s one ofthosepeople, Dad. I can’t explain it, but he makes me feel… weird. All flustered and confused. And I start to sweat and get all…” I trailed off. “I don’t understand it.”
Dad tried to suppress his grin, but he failed miserably. “Maybe I know why?”
Something told me I didn’t want to hear his answer. “Why?”
“Do you like Mr. MacDowell?” He leaned back and raised one eyebrow. “He’s not exactly hideous, is he?”
I shook my head so vehemently, I almost passed out. “Likehim? Gosh, I don’t evenknowhim! Every time I try to talk with him, he just stares at me like I’m an insect under a microscope. Or his little dog growls at me. Or he has this amused look on his face like I’m the funniest thing he’s ever seen.”
“Ah, I see.” For some reason, Dad’s tone of voice didn’t match the words. “Okay, I think I get the picture. If you want, I’ll talk with him tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it.” I gave an embarrassed shrug. “I’m sorry you have to get in the middle of this, but hopefully, this will smooth some things over.”
Whatever it took to protect my bakery.
“I hope so, too.” Dad touched my cheek with his fingertips. “I love you, Ivy Bell.”
“Love you, too, Dad.” I gave him a hug and headed home, glad to have gotten everything off my chest.
Now if I could just get some sleep, everything would be all right tomorrow.
12
Feeling better about my talk with Dad, I opened the back door to my bakery at 5:00 the next morning and slipped inside. I trusted my dad to smooth things in a way I didn’t know how. He was much more diplomatic about these things than I could be, and that’s part of the reason he was such a great mayor.
At 6:00, Ella strolled through the back door and hung her purse on the empty hook. She tied her apron around her without a word, then turned to me, a determined look on her face.
“So?” She didn’t hold back, though she seemed more caring than pushy. “How did it go yesterday after I left? Did you go over there and give Connor MacDowell a piece of your mind? Thumbscrews? The rack?”
I snorted. “Thumbscrews and torture rack? No. But I told him the purpose of Jingle Junction was to uplift everyone, to have the town succeed, and also to invite tourists in. We didn’t really promote competition because there was something for everyone to do.”
Ella crossed her arms over her chest and shot me an ‘oh really’ sort of look. “And how did the big guy take that?”
I bent over and drizzled icing onto the warm Danish in front of me. “He told me he believes in competition, and I had better learn to keep up with him.”
