“The Maple Tap. Let’s work on our plan,” I say to Steven with a tap of my hand on the counter.
“Oooo Boss Harper is heeeere! I love her!” He sing-songs back. We all laugh and then move to a table. Maxine scribbles on a napkin, Steven swipes away on his phone and I commandeer one of the store iPads. We brainstorm for about a half hour before my phone rings. It’s Betty. My heart constricts, knowing this phone call only ever goes one of two ways.
“Hello?” I say.
“It’s Stu!” She yells, exasperated.
“Again?” Steven says beside me, eavesdropping. Or maybe Betty is just that loud.
“Sorry, coming!” I say before hanging up.
“Go get your boy, we’ll start telling everyone the plan,” my friend says. The aunts nod and ooo and ahhh over our ideas as I grab my keys. They’resurewe’ll succeed this next time.
I’m not as confident about our future profits as our geriatric cheerleaders, but I’m positive about the effort. Mr. VanderBully thinks this is war?He doesn’t know us.
I hop in my van and brace myself for my task, stretching like I’m about to work out. Which, I kind of am.But it’s fine. God’s got me and you got this, girl! Stuart is learning! Things are getting better!
Tyrone always says I’m tough stuff. And so is everyone else on this little street.
We will not surrender without a fight.
_____
“I give up,” I say, a few hours later.
“Nah, you don’t,” Madison replies as she hands me my current favorite coffee blend. It tastes exactly like a maple donut with a few too many shots of espresso crammed inside. So, heaven. It tastes like heaven.
“Putting up decorations for each holiday is one thing, taking them down until midnight is another,” I say, motioning with my cup at the oven clock as I do. It’s just past 4 in the morning.
“At least the Maple Tap doesn’t have a color theme,” she says, yawning on the last word. I yawn back as I nod. She makes a good point. Not every event we’ve planned will require a total town makeover, but the more we can do to promote each attraction, the better.
Which is why Madison and I are currently cutting Maple fritters into teeny tiny sample pieces. Later we’ll stick each one with a toothpick and set them out on the sidewalk next to the sandwich board that holds the Maple Tap date and time.
Time flies as we work. Soon it’s 6 o’clock, time to open shop. Madison flips over the window sign and moments later, like most mornings, Carl comes in for coffee and a breakfast orderto go. He’s grumpy and direct but he knows it, so he tips well. He and Madison even have a bit of a rapport now.
Next is Mr. Newman, headed to open Stockings. Maxine usually pops in after that for a hot tea before she heads to My Favorite Things. Some mornings she takes it to go, many mornings she stops and chats with Madison. I suspect she misses being busier. I don’t think she even opens until 11 these days.
The doorbell and the conversations waft in and out of the back kitchen as I work. Madison is much better at the counter than I am, even with our regulars. I hum along to music, answering if she has questions for me, which she usually doesn’t.
I hear her call goodbye to Maxine and then I hear her mumble something unsure. The customer reply is not unsure in the least. A deep voice asks for a large, black, house blend coffee. I quickly make my way to the front and put a hand on Madison’s shoulder before she can ring up his order.
He’s looking at the display cases as he thinks aloud slowly, “And…I suppose I’ll try the…”
“No,” I say softly.
His head snaps up, realizing I’m at the counter.Yup! It’s me, with the eyes! Get out!
“What?” He asks, his perfect eyebrows scrunching.
I don’t repeat myself. No is a complete sentence. One of my favorite sentences, along with Yes. One word, so simple.
“No, I can’t have a pastry?” He asks. I just stand and offer an insincere smile. I wait. He goes on, “All right, then, just a black coffee.”
“Also no,” I say, trying to sound resolute. Not sure if I do. But I keep my chin up. He stares and I fold, looking away to pretend to wipe the counter. I’m still not good at confrontation and this man is nothing but confrontational.
“You’re refusing my business?”
“Rip.”Dammit! It’s either right or yup it’s not that hard, brain!“Yup,” I quickly correct myself.
