It was a good sign, but would anyone come?
She was proud of what they had built. Mothers and toddlers would love the space… if they could just get them through the door.
They had gone all around town earlier that week, putting up fliers with the date of their grand opening. Oakley had even driven down to Pahoa and up to Hilo in order to spread the word.
But would anyone come down their sleepy little side street?
It wasn’t like opening a café in a big city, where thousands of people walked past every day. Here, people had to actually come seek them out. Would they?
A big truck rumbled up to the curb, and a hand popped out the open window in a loose local shaka.
“Hey sis!” Kekoa jumped out of the truck and clapped her on the back. “Nice sign! I didn’t know you could draw.”
“I am a woman of many hidden talents,” she said with a bow and a flourish.
Then she straightened up and poked his belly – and winced. It was like poking a tree.
“Where’s our sign?” she demanded.
“I’ve got you.” He went to the truck bed and pulled aside a tarp, revealing their new sign with a flourish.
Keiki Café.
It was a gorgeous wooden sign, hand carved and stained two different colors so that the words leapt out even from a distance. It was also a perfect match for theParadise Bookssign next door, giving the neighboring businesses a cohesive, cozy vibe.
Oakley had pushed back on the name. She’d wanted something more upscale, more trendy. But Akemi had stood firm.
Keiki was the local word for kids – and from its first inception, Akemi had known that was what she wanted to call the space that she was creating. It was a common word, used by everybody – but every time she saw it, she heard her dad’s voice in her head, warm and deep.
“Well?” Kekoa asked.
“It’s perfect.”
“Let’s get in up there, then.”
Kekoa was so tall that he didn’t even need a ladder. He just hefted the huge piece of wood in two hands and hung it neatlyon the hooks that he had placed a few days before.
“Nowit looks like a coffee shop,” Akemi approved.
“Then how about a coffee?”
“Coming right up.”
Just as she was handing Kekoa his cappuccino, Oakley came through the door with a precarious tower of bright pink pastry boxes.
“Those signs look great, guys!”
“Thanks.” Akemi eyed the boxes as Oakley set them down. Sitting there on the counter, they towered as tall as Kekoa. “Are those all for today?”
“Well, sure! It’s opening day! If anything sells out too quick, or doesn’t sell out completely, that gives us data for future orders.”
“If you say so.” Akemi looked around. “Where are the girls?”
A shadow passed over her face. “They’re in Waimea.”
“Right. Duh.” Akemi gave her an apologetic smile. “I can never keep track of weekends and weekdays. They’re all the same to me.”
“Where’s Kaleo?” Oakley asked.
