“It’s a Tuesday,” Kiara observes.
“I decided to open. We’ll serve small bites.” No need for a chef. “Fruit punches.” More profit.
“Cool! When did you decide that?” Kiara asks.
“Just now.” The sidewalk will be crowded.
Autumn claps her hands. “I love it!”
“Good for you! Will your staff be good with that?” Haley asks.
I’ll find out soon enough. “Worst case, it’ll just be me. Whatever I can do will be better than nothing.” Now that I know there’s a parade right in front of us, attracting maybe hundreds of people, I am not letting this opportunity pass.
“You have to get the tables and chairs. Come on. We’ll help you paint them,” Autumn says, getting to her feet.
I jump up. “Let’s go.”
Half an hour later, I’m paying for the furniture while the girls arrange everything in the flatbed.
“I’ll never have those ready by the Fourth,” I mumble as I hop back into the truck.
“I’ll make the cushions,” Autumn says. “I have leftover fabric from the resort renovations last winter. And Kiara will talk to Colton, right?”
“Sure, but why me? He’s not my brother.”
“You’re the Colton whisperer,” Haley says.
Kiara stays silent.
“Colton is Grace’s brother,” Haley explains to me, “and he’s also a bit of a grump.”
“He also owns a fabulous garage where they do custom works. So he’ll have all the paint and buffer stuff you can dream of,” Autumn adds.
“Are you sure?” I ask. That feels very imposing to me.
“Believe me, he’ll be thrilled,” Kiara says. “The guy lives for that kind of stuff. He’ll do your tables and chairs with one hand while he redesigns the interior of a vintage convertible for his next client.”
“He has those kind of clients here?”
“Canadians. Second homeowners.”
“Call it third homeowners,” Haley giggles, rubbing her finger and thumb together. “Money, money.”
I didn’t realize there was that much money in this small, sleepy town. It explains the quality and abundance of shops. It also begs the question: why isn’t the restaurant doing better? The market seems to be there.
After we offload the flowers at the restaurant and the mirror and my furniture at Kiara’s place, the girls drop me off at the cottage and we make plans to meet up with Grace in a couple of hours.
The Growler is an event space lost in the hills, with food, several bars, a stage, outdoor seating, and games. It’s still light out when we meet up. “Let’s keep this low-key for tonight,” Grace says as she points to the outdoor seating area. “This place can get a little rowdy.”
“You’re right, sis. It’s only Monday,” Kiara says. “’Member when we brought Alex here for the first time?” She chuckles.
As they reminisce, my attention drifts and I take in the moment. The dipping sun creating a gold halo on the hills. The sound of music drifting from within. The crispy yet soft, hot, and tangy nachos hitting my tongue, chased by a maple margarita.
It’s a perfect evening after a perfect day with girlfriends. I bask in the easy happiness, shoving down the thoughts of Justin that threaten to ruin it all.
On Tuesday, I wake up late, make a quick stop at Easy Monday, and get to the restaurant mid-morning, dashing straight from my car to my office through the back entrance.
I email David about my July 4th plan for the restaurant. Surprisingly, he replies quickly, and he agrees to work that day. He even suggests some fruit punches and specialty cocktails we could offer to up our margins.