“April.” I take her hands. “I’ve been trying to tell you for years—I want to invest in The Barkery. In you. Let me help.”
“Clark, I told you?—”
“I’m serious. Let me be your banker. Your business partner. Whatever you need.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t take your money. I need to do this myself. To prove to my parents—to prove to myself—that I can make this work on my own.”
“You’re not on your own. You have me. You have the girls. You have an entire community ready to support you.”
“I know, but?—”
Her phone rings, interrupting. She glances at the screen and her whole body goes rigid. “It’s my parents.”
“You don’t have to answer.”
But she does, stepping away slightly. I can only hear her side of the conversation, but it’s enough for my stress to skyrocket.
“Hi, Dad ... Yes, I’m back in Nebraska ... I know you think it’s a waste, but ... No, I’m not ... Dad, please...”
I want to take the phone and tell her father exactly what I think of his opinion. But this isn’t my fight. I can only stand here and watch as April’s shoulders slump with every word.
“I have to go,” she says finally. “I’ll talk to you later.”
She hangs up and stares at her phone for a long moment. “Elise made the mistake of telling them about the real estate meeting,” she says quietly. “They’re not happy. They think I’m making a mistake. That I’m throwing my life away on a ‘hobby.’”
I shake my head, knowing none of that is true. “April?—”
She looks up, eyes wide and liquid. “And maybe they’re right. Maybe this is crazy. Maybe I should just?—”
“Don’t.” I cross to her, tipping her chin up so she has to look at me. “Don’t let them get in your head. You’re brilliant and capable and this is going to work.”
But I can see the doubt creeping in along with the old insecurities that her parents have spent years cultivating.
“I’m scared, Clark,” she whispers. “What if I fail? What if I’m not good enough?”
“You are good enough. More than enough.”
She wants to believe me. I can see it in her eyes. But her parents’ voices are louder than mine right now.
I have no idea how to fix that, but I do know how I can help. Later, I’ll make a few phone calls and help carry the load, if not lighten it, because that’s what boyfriends do. That’s what I am, right?
But even as I make this decision, my own stress stretches and builds. I don’t want to mess things up, but I cannot see a clear path forward with her, the playoffs, and all of my responsibilities without letting one of them take a hit. So for now, it’s probably best for me to give her space. I can’t burden April. No need for us both to be stressed out.
Too bad my brain doesn’t come with full goalie pads.
25
APRIL
While I’mat the Busy Bee Bakery, reviewing my business proposal and the banking info, my inbox pings with an email. It’s from JW Commercial Real Estate. My hand shakes as I click to open it.
It says that they’re pleased to inform me that my application for the commercial lease at 112 Main Street has been approved ...
I should be screaming. Dancing. Calling everyone I know.
Instead, a clothespin pinches my stomach. My heart feels like it has rolled right into my throat.
The Barkery is happening. My dream is coming true. And all I can think about is how Clark has barely texted me in three days.
