Page 2 of Merry With A Milkman

“Oh, I’m determined, all right. As much as I enjoy bartending, I don’t want it to be my lifetime job.”

“Hey,” Nyla complains with a good natured grin.

Boots hurries to explain. “No, I mean I?—”

“Hush,” Nyla says with a wave of her hand. “I know exactly what you mean. You’re a fantastic employee but you’ll be better as your own boss. What you need…” She stares at me. “Is a mentor.”

Before I can speak, Boots is called away to start processing orders. Nyla arches her brows and returns to where her husband is doing paperwork at the bar. I tap my fingers against my order form. But instead of deciding which scent of massage candle I want, my thoughts spin around Nyla’s suggestion.

A mentor. Helping others start new businesses appeals to me. The world needs fewer big box stores and more small businesses. Not that I want to give up my place at the candy shop. That’s home.

A couple other businesses opened shortly after Choco-Love and have already closed. I’m fairly sure I can list most of the reasons without trying too hard. If there would have been someone to offer suggestions, simple solutions, encouragement, maybe those shops would still be open. Many people new to the retail world are uncomfortable asking for help and often don’t join local business associations.

There needs to be something here in Love Beach, somewhere they can bring questions and concerns. A place for practical learning.

I’m still deep in my thoughts when Boots returns to the table. “I’ve gotten more orders than I hoped for.”

“Oh, and I haven’t completed my order yet. I’ll hurry. I’ve been thinking. You’re probably not the only person in the area who’d like to go into business for themselves. I’m considering arranging a gathering to see if there’s enough interest to start a group to support each other. I might be able to convince some established business owners to speak to the group. Maybe become mentors. What do you think?”

Her eyes shine with hope. “I think that would be wonderful. I want to learn everything I can to make my flower shop the best ever.”

“Great. I’ll get something going. First I need some place to hold the initial gathering.”

Behind me a throat clears. I turn to Nyla’s smile. “What about here? As a small business owner, and a woman, I want to help others find their passion. You can meet on a Monday when the bar’s closed. Or if another night is better, I’ll close off part of the deck for you to use.”

One major problem solved. “Perfect. How about I help clean up then we can check our calendars and pick a date. No sense wasting time.”

Half an hour later I place my flowers carefully on the floor of the passenger seat then sit in the parking lot for a few minutes. What did I just agree to do? We’re coming into the holiday season, typically a really busy time in a chocolate shop. Especially since I’m also trying to bump up our business by coming up with a way to sell our chocolates during events on the boardwalk.

At home I set the flowers on the coffee table and add a little water according to Boots’ instructions. I leave the candy cane in place so I don’t ruin the arrangement. My planner is under a pile of papers on the floor and I find a pen between the couch cushions. Time to make some plans.

Good thing I like being busy and don’t have any other distractions. I glance at the curve of the candy cane peeking between the flowers. Like a man.

two

Rhone

“Here’s the route for today.” My brother hands me a printout of a map with hand drawn directions. “You shouldn’t have any problems.”

I fold the page and tuck it into my shirt pocket. “I’ve lived here as long as you have, Steve, and done deliveries before. I know Love Beach.”

“I know, I know. But there’s new stops since you were home last. What with being overseas then messing with your cheese recipes, you wouldn’t know I’ve picked up new customers. You need to get out more, bro.”

“Says the guy who spends most of his time with the livestock.”

He doesn’t join in with my dry chuckle just points toward the door. “Get going. Don’t ruin my record of ‘on-time as promised’ deliveries.”

My sharp salute deepens his frown. Steve is a dour man. Even as a kid he seldom smiled and never appreciated my attempts at making him laugh. I’d hoped when I came home from my latest stint in the air force, he’d lighten up.

Nope. Same ol’ Steve. More concerned with his cows, goats, and whatever else he’s got in his pens. Doesn’t pay much attention to when I come and go but knows exactly when one of his organic feed suppliers has had an accidental overspray from a neighboring farm. That used to bother me and I’d hoped after our parents died, we would form a closer bond.

Didn’t happen. I don’t think he’ll ever change.

I pause at the door. “I’m staying in town tonight.”

“Just make sure to get the truck back in time for deliveries tomorrow. Walt will be back from his vacation and ready to take over.”

“Sure.” Steve doesn’t even care enough to wonder why I bought a house and decided to live in town. Whatever. If our folks hadn’t built the stone-lined cellar that turned out to be the perfect place to age cheese, I wouldn’t have set up my operation in the old farmhand bungalow. Even though I’m here nearly every day, I seldom see my brother except from a distance.

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