epilogue
“You ready?” Danny asks.
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Not at all.”
“Tough because you open in less than a week.”
As I wander around the space, I cannot believe that it’s almost done. “Who knew what would come from hosting that damn pumpkin festival a few months ago, right? How it would make this real?”
After Danny came back home, he stayed with me for a week until he was ready to see everyone again. It was obvious that everyone would surround him, embrace him, and help him settle back in. And they did. Paul hugged him so hard that Danny eventually had to physically extricate himself, and Mary Ann, Slow, and Matteo each kept him in vise grips and words of love until Danny was visibly blushing and begging them to back off.
What wasn’t obvious was that Nicole would announce her retirement to the group and that she was done with her beloved crêperie. I’d only told Danny about her offer—well, insistence—that I take over her place.
I will never forget her toast as I served dessert.
“Is my time to step down. To travel back to my France. But I pass on restaurant to our Callie. Is a perfect place for her to host more and more of the brunches. She likes, so okay?”
Before I could say anything, my mom almost jumped out of her chair. “Oh, I love this for you, Callie!”
And within minutes, she had everyone at the table cheering on this plan. When she pulled me aside later, she only half-apologized for her eagerness, but she also asked how I felt about what I’d taken on.
“It’s crazy. I’m crazy—that’s what I think.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. You’ve spent a lot of your own money on the house—and I’ve been all for that once I knew what you were really up to—but maybe you can make back some of that investment. I know beyond a doubt that your dad would have been all for your new adventure. He’d be so damn proud of you, Callie.”
She also showed me a text from Erica.
Tell Callie again that I’m sorry I couldn’t be there this weekend. Maybe for her opening?
After my initial hesitation, I realized that it made sense. More than that, it would bring me joy. While I loved serving brunches at my house, it really was a ton of work to get done in a small space, and I could serve only so many people. Opening my own place? In theory, I could feed the whole town.
So, I took the proverbial plunge.
But only because Alex agreed to stick by my side. He’s also delighted by the vacuum-seal machine we have on site.
The renovations I asked for have taken time but time that’s been worth it. My diner is full of textured and patterned tiles and has a rich wood floor, eclectic lighting, and welcoming blues on the walls. Opening this place is going to be so terrifying and so wonderful, but I’m ready. While I’ve had many cooking failures, I’ve also had enough successes that make me believe that I’m ready to do this. I’m still tackling that difficult ricotta cake with the flowers encased in gelatin, but I’m getting closer to my goal. The actual cheesecake base is a wonder, and now, it’s just a matter of keeping the flowers from lurching off the side of the dome, but I’m determined to get there. Failures here and there are okay.
Danny takes my hand. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”
“There’s so much more to do,” I protest as I hunch over a long list. “The order for new dishes hasn’t gone through, and I still haven’t heard back from the vendor who’s supposed to provide eco-friendly takeout containers.”
Despite my reasons to stay inside and stress, he manages to drag me away and take me outside. “Just look.”
The cold air is shocking and shakes me from my business fog, and I spin and reach up my hands with delight. “Oh my God. It’s snowing.”
He laughs. “It has been for hours. There’s a full-on storm tonight.”
When I was a kid, we waited with unbridled anticipation in the late fall or early winter for snow to come. It was expected and nothing unique then, but it’s been years since I’ve felt snowflakes fall over me, and I forgot how invigorating it is to have frosty bits dance over my skin and cover the landscape in pure white iciness. I rip off my sweatshirt and push up the sleeves of my shirt so that I can take in this snow and chill fully.
“Callie, you’re going to freeze!” Danny chases after me and tries to throw his coat over my shoulders.
The weather only makes me feel more alive, and I brush away his coat, especially when I see the snow people that he has sculpted.
“You remembered!” I say joyfully.
“I did. Because of you.” He shoves a bag my way. “But you’re going to have to help with the fascinators.”
So, we decorate snow people with scarves, ties, buttons and carrot noses and outlandish boas and, most importantly, tiny hats.
