“My Vik.”
“My Mae. How is life in Greyfin Bay thus far?”
“It’s…”
Maybe she was sitting in a room with someone who hated her, someone who would always be just a wall away. Maybe she hadn’t truly had to experience that feeling in a long time. But Mae thought of the work she’d just put into that shop on the other side of this wall. She thought of Liv’s smile, the locals who had greeted her kindly this morning.
We can’t wait.
Her eyes tracked over the top of her laptop to the small window in the front of the building. Where, even from the back of the room, she could make out the waves. An ocean bigger than Mae’s flags, bigger than anyone else’s feelings about them.
“It’s good,” she said.
And then they filled each other in: Mae’s new plants; the new vocabulary she’d just learned from the inspector; a hike Jackson had taken with Ben and Alexei and almost died on. Mae never quite forgot where she was, but with each little story, she felt closer to home. The one that lived inside herself.
“Okay, Kellerman,” Vik said. “You ready to do this?”
“Yeah.” Mae bit her lip. “I am.”
“I’m going to make the website live. You got the graphic I sent you for Instagram?”
Mae nodded, bringing up theComing Soongraphic Vik had made using the photo Mae had sent them yesterday: the front window of 12 Main Street from the sidewalk, pride flags lit from within.
“Sweet. Go publish that shit.”
Mae tweaked the caption she’d been brainstorming in her head for weeks while Vik typed away on their end, a lock of curly hair falling over their forehead.
“It’s live,” Vik said with a smile, flicking the curl away. It promptly fell exactly where it had been.
Mae clickedShare.
“It’s live,” she echoed.
Bay Books was live.
Vik and Mae had deliberated over the name for a week. Mae knew it was simple, that it would likely be only one of many Bay Books out there in the world. But simple was easy to remember.
And what really sold them was the fact that, while the window would display those words, their friends agreed they would always read it asBae Books. A name Mae thought would make Jesus laugh, his head knocked back, hands coming together in a single clap, like he used to do when he was especially pleased.
“You’re a business owner, babe.”
“I mean…” Mae thought of the incorporation paperwork she was still waiting to get approved, of the small business class she hadn’t even started yet, the list of repairs the inspector had just given her.
“It’s on the internet now,” Vik said. “And the internet, future generations forgive us, is forever.”
Mae navigated to baybooksoregon.com. And while she’d already seen the drafts Vik had sent her, she still gasped when it loaded.
“Vik, it looks so good.”
“It does,” Vik agreed. “It’s gonna be so great, Mae.”
For the length of the rest of their call, Mae let herself believe them.
* * *
It was late by the time Mae returned to Dell’s property. Between putting more elbow grease into cleaning, scheduling a bevy of contractors, and completing Vik’s emailed list of marketing tasks, finding another place to stay had somehow slipped Mae’s mind.
She meant to go straight to the ADU, to shower and collapse with a book. But the golden light coming from Dell’s front porch—along with the strums of an acoustic guitar—pulled her like a moth to a flame.
