Page 13 of When Hairy Met Stella

“Oh, honey.” She reached across the table, taking Stella’s hand in hers. “Nothing I could have done with that Plinko money would have made me happier.”

From the smile on her face, Stella believed her. She just wished she felt the same. Instead, it made her…something else. But she taped that big ol’ smile on her face anytime someone asked her about the salon.

When she’d bought the salon from Mrs. Bronson, she didn’t have enough to cover it all. And instead of taking out a loan, her parents so graciously offered to front her the money, something she thought she would have done much faster than she had. But things got in the way—like rising taxes and a pandemic. And while it made her nervous, her parents gambling on her like that, she’d been so overwhelmed with first-time business ownership that she didn’t have much time to think about it.

But then Grandma swooped in like her fairy godmother and cut her a check with her prize money. When she’d done it, Stella had nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all. Her whole life, Gram would stuff a five-dollar bill in her pocket. ‘For some candy,’ she’d said when she was a kid, which turned into, ‘For gas money’and ‘For a frappy-cino’when she got older.

After her stint onThe Price is Right, she stuffed a $50,000 check into the pocket of her jeans as though it was a five. ‘For your salon.’

Hersalon.

“I still can’t believe you gave me the money.” Stella’s eyes turned glassy any time she thought about it.

“I’d do it again and again.”

“Why did you, though? That seemed like a big risk, placing your bets on, well…me.”

“Oh, my Stella. I knew this was an adventure you were dying to take. You just needed a little nudge to get going.”

She looked down at her drink. “I never used to need that.”

“That’s because you’ve forgotten what it tastes like.”

She looked up from her cup. “What? Coffee?”

“Adventure.”

Stella wasn’t so sure about that, but who was she to argue with the woman whose middle name was adventure. It was Gram’s wild idea that got them to California and her on a national game show in the first place.

“You’ve got a lot of faith in me, I guess.”

“I always have.” Gram winked, and without words, Stella knew what she was really talking about. Because when she had once lost faith in herself, her grandma had helped her find it. Little did she know, she could use a little help finding it now. “And you should believe me. I’m a wise old nutmeg. Don’t you forget it.”

Stella scrunched her brows. “A nutmeg?”

“I’m definitely not a wise old sage. Don’t care much for sage at all. Never really liked bay leaf either. Basil is only okay, and dill is a mess if you ask me.”

“I’m not…” Stella rubbed her head, feeling laughter bubble in her chest as Gram rattled off her personal feelings about herbs and spices that no one asked for. “I’m not sure you’re using the phrase right.”

“Ain’t nobody stopped me yet.”

And now she was wondering how many people knew Gram was a nutmeg.

“What are you guys talking about?” Lucy asked as she approached the table.

“I’m…not really sure,” Stella said, throwing both her and her grandma into a fit of laughter.

“Well, I don’t mean to break up the party, but that was Nate on the phone, and he and Eric are going to meet us at the lodge. So, if you’re ready…”

“Sure. We can get going.” She stood from the table, gathering her purse. “Gram, we’ll see you at the wedding, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. Make sure you ladies have a fun adventure or two this week.”

A week away from work and the salon was exactly what she needed. A week of couples—and Nate? Well, that seemed like something Gram would call an adventure. But unlike one of Gram’s adventures, Stella hoped there wouldn’t be too many surprises.

“What doyou mean Stella and I are sharing a room?”

Nate stared at Eric and Lucy, his jaw slack and his arms limp at his sides, staring at the two keycards in his brother’s open hand. Keycards to the room he and Stella were apparently sharing.

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