I smiled at her.
“It dies down in between one whackjob running amuck, and another one acting up,” she told me.“But not by much, God love Elsa Cohen, perpetual streaming and nothing on the Internet ever dying.”
That made me laugh again.
She shrugged.“So now, the president of our town council, Meg Nichols, in her last act and to build an enduring legacy, got hold of the old paper mill.You can’t miss it.It’s the big building about two blocks east of here, four blocks north.”
I nodded.“Yeah.I’ve seen it.Noticed there was some construction out there.”
She returned my nod.“Yup.So the town owns it now.They’ve cleaned it up, sectioned it off, and they’re renting studio space to artists.”
That got my attention.
“They’re going to have their own governing board, their own shop,” she continued.“And some of the artists are going to do classes.Painting.Pottery.Stuff like that.They’re also going to have yoga, tai chi and meditation classes.Even the local gym doesn’t do yoga classes, and we don’t have a studio.In this day and age, that’s something seriously lacking for MP.But the whole idea, I hope, is going to bring more people to town, even day-trippers who live closer.”
“Whoa, that sounds freaking amazing.”And I told no lie.
“Opening is next weekend.Saturday.Big deal.Tents in the parking lot.Booths for local businesses.”
Ah, hell.
“Oh shit, I remember you mentioning to me we should think of getting a booth there.”
She shook her head.“I had a better look at it and that’s the reason I didn’t pursue it with you.Kimmy isn’t going to have a booth, nor is Tim.”
“Kimmy and Tim?”
She looked stunned.“You haven’t met Kimmy yet?”
I shook my head.
She shot me a sly smile.“That’s something fun to look forward to.But she owns the holiday store.”
“I have noticed that, at least.”
“Yeah.And Tim manages the tack shop.But Aromacobana is going to do coffee and treats.And the candy store will have a booth, the ice cream shop, stuff like that.Along with the artists who are going to be working in the studios.People like the high school boosters, or the cheerleading squad, the junior hockey league, folks raising money for stuff.We weren’t a fit.”
“Okay.”
“We might find some things we’ll want here, though.”
“Agreed.”
“So, you wanna meet Brett, me and the kids?Saturday after this one.Say, at eleven?”
I did need to give up my hermit thing.
I probably needed to do that months ago, so now the time was over-ripe.
“That sounds fab.”
She grinned ear to ear.
I took in that friendly grin.
I was giving myself the full year’s rent on my cabin, which was, not incidentally, close to the full year’s rent on The Groove, to make a final decision to stay or to go.
But how could I know if I wanted to stay or go if I didn’t put the effort into knowing what I might be leaving?
