Page 51 of The Promise Of You

We’re on the right track.

Next, I email Samuel, feeling karma on my side, but I don’t hear back from him. I call Corine and tell her my plan. “I can’t make it Tuesday. Mom has plans already, and I won’t be able to find a babysitter on such short notice. But if Samuel can’t help out, I’ll do a bunch of prep for you on Sunday and Monday. Next year, for sure, I’ll make myself available!” My heart pinches at the idea that I won’t be there to witness it next year. But I store the information that she and David have no problem working more.

Finally, I text Trevor and Ryan to find out if they’re available to work next Tuesday. “No problem,” Trevor answers, just as Ryan texts back, “We’re working at the pub that day.”

“Never mind! Thanks :)” I text back.

These are just minor setbacks, I decide. Not everything can go according to plan. I post on Echoes that I’m looking for extras on July 4th, but I’m not holding my breath. People either have a job lined up or fun plans.

To make myself feel better, I grab the trowel I found under the sink at the cottage and set out to fill my window boxes with all the flowers I bought yesterday. As I hit the sidewalk, I stop in my steps. The wooden flower boxes have been replaced with vintage aluminum boxes that seem to come straight out of a home decor magazine. They create a stark contrast to the building’s exposed brick, giving it a retro-hip look.

It looks awesome.

And so nice of my friends!

I send a frenzy of excited group text messages and set out to garnish the boxes.

An hour later, I send them pictures of the finished product.

Once the tables and chairs are done, the sidewalk is going to look fabulous. And that will signal the restaurant’s comeback.

I have a great feeling about that.

On Wednesday, Chef comes in and informs me that no, he won’t be working on Independence Day.

Not everything can go according to plan.

On Thursday, Colton and Autumn deliver the tables and chairs, and they are more than fabulous.

They are works of art.

The metal is painted a slate gray, polished to a shine, the flat surfaces of the tables reflecting the sky and clouds. The chairs have thick cushions in a yellow and cream stripe.

Once all eight tables are on the sidewalk, with the chairs around them providing a pop of color, Autumn sets the cutest flowerpots, painted in matching stripes of yellow and cream, in the center of each table. “I was thinking herbs would look cool, with a holder for a drink menu, but I’ll let you decide. Happy to brainstorm if you need!” she says, wiping her hands on her jeans.

Too stunned to talk, I lean into the impulse to hug her. Then I turn to Colton. Grace’s brother is tall, dark, and sinfully handsome. He takes a step back, hands in front of him as if to say, ‘I’m good.’ I can’t help but laugh. “Thanks so much for doing all this so quickly,” I tell him. “How much do I owe you? Lemme get the checkbook in the office.”

“Nah,” he says. “Was nothin’.”

“Oh come on, it was not nothing.”

He looks at Autumn and shrugs. “I gotta go.”

“Please. Let me at least pay for your time and paint.”

“Paint was left over from a job and time was… nothin’.” He ends this on a shrug.

Autumn gives him a friendly slap on the arm, and he slides into his truck. “He’s good,” she tells me.

That’s super nice. But also, it’s super embarrassing. How can I thank him?

The restaurant doesn’t even have a gift certificate system.

We need gift certificates.

Another thing on my to-do.

seventeen

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