I take a moment to soak it all in.
The floors Theo helped me with.
The refurbished shelves.
The paintings on the wall and the windows.
The lights.
The combination of the old and the new.
The memories with my dad, but also with the other people I love.
This is my safe space, my home, the start of a brand-new chapter in my life. And I can’t wait to see how it turns out.
Epilogue
RENLEY
“Gossy, do you have everything in place?” Theo asks as he walks into the main space of the candy shop wearing a pair of trousers—as he calls them—a white button-up shirt, and a red bow tie that he insisted on. He looks so handsome with his hair combed to the side and just a light scruff peppering his cheeks.
When we woke up this morning in our apartment above the shop, he spent a solid hour worshipping me before pulling me into the bathroom and showering the both of us. When we ate breakfast on the floor—because we still need some furniture—we talked about the opening today, how the spotlight piece went yesterday forWake Up Boston, and how utterly exhausted we were, but in a good way.
And now that we’re about to open, it feels so surreal that we were able to pull it together.
The inspection was flawless, thank God, because there are still some things I want to do to the shop, but for the most part everything was clean, devoid of all mice—and severed tails—and put into place. And like Theo said, we have time to makechanges, but proving to the business society that we can do this is the most important thing.
While we put together the shop, Rupert was in charge of social media, making all sorts of accounts on all platforms to promote the store. He spent the last few days videoing us and showing how we were putting everything together. He even added some of the videos I took sparingly from different renovations. He’s done a fantastic job and has already garnered us around two thousand followers on each platform.
I think it was the one video he took of Theo trying on a bow tie without a shirt on that really got us some followers. I know it doesn’t scream “family candy shop”—more like Lollipop Daddy, which is what Rupert called him—but I don’t care. It worked and we’re gaining traction online in such a short period of time.
I glance around the shop, nerves building inside me as I nod. “I think everything is ready.”
“Good.”
He walks up to me, loops his arm around my waist, and says, “I’m so damn proud of you. Look what you did, Gossy.” He turns me toward the shop to take it all in once again.
Canisters full of candy shimmer under the glowing lights. Shelves are stacked with every sort of candy you can think of, from nostalgic sugary treats to popular gummies. The sticker and postcard bar is only partly set up, but it’s just full enough to draw attention. There is a lollipop wall full of every lollipop imaginable, while the bar is set up with the register, a scale, and paper bags with the Rudder’s logo stamped on the front.
It’s everything I could have dreamed of and more.
And I did it.
With help of course.
But I was able to do this.
I was able to see it through.
And I was able to prove to myself that I didn’t receive my dad’s poor traits but rather his beautiful ones.
His imagination.
His ability to dream.
And his love for small things.
This is how I want to remember him.
