Page 31 of Damian & Jun, Episodes 13-16
Another yawn smothered, Damian nodded. “Thank you for helping with this.”
“We had a good turn-out today. A few of the investors stopped by earlier. We’re still looking for someone to open a grocery store. There’s interest in that and there’s a location one block away that’s still zoned for one.”
“I think I remember a store being there a long time ago.”
Aunt Josie bustled up, interrupting them. She gave Damian a looking over. “So, you’re really doing it. It’s not just talk.”
“No, ma’am.” Damian forced himself to focus and offered her his hand. “We’re past the talking stage. We already have tenants in the old Parsonage.”
“Hmph.” She looked him up and down again, then raised an eyebrow at Émeric. “Well, I never…uh hum. I never. And a train line, too.”
Damian dared to hope. That wasn’t one of her angry faces. “What do people think?”
“Change is hard. But we aren’t going to say no to having some stores back, no sir. Best thing would be a grocery, though. It takes me three hours just to do my shopping for me and my daughter, I’m telling you.”
“We’re looking for someone who’s willing to invest,” Damian grimaced. “Do you know of anyone who would like to give it a try?”
“Not anyone with money.”
“Money could be negotiable, depending on the circumstances. Please pass that around.”
Aunt Josie raised an eyebrow but nodded. “So what’s going underneath the performance space? There’s a basement and all kinds of things down there.”
“Storage,” Damian said. “We have to redo the floors, check all the foundations, figure out what we can do down there. We’re going to have some private apartments for staff. I’ll probably keep some rooms, for when I’m here. It’s not going to be open to the public, at least not most of it. But we’re planning shopping and offices for the old school section in the other half of the building, behind the old sanctuary.”
“I saw that. Maybe I can go and get my hair done.” Aunt Josie patted her perm. “Now about this history section. You’re putting that in the old foyer?”
“Most of it. We still need people to contribute.”
“Well, I’ll be there. Your friend May and her daughter, what’s her name? Ruby? They’ve been running around with Betti talking to everyone about that.”
Damian gestured Aunt Josie to move outside the tent.
“I appreciate that,” Damian said. “I’m glad word is getting around. But what about those who aren’t happy? What are they saying? I know this isn’t going to hit well with everyone.”
“And by everyone you mean Pastor Doyle?”
Damian nodded.
Aunt Josie rocked back in her shoes and gave him a good long look. “Well, he’s talking. A bit. But he isn’t organizing, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’d say the biggest complaint is people are worried this here will up and make their property taxes go up, or if they’re renting, make that too dear. Some of us are on fixed incomes, you know.”
“If you have the names of those who are concerned, and what their concerns are, please have them come speak to one of us, May, Armada, Collin, Émeric, Ann, and Cedric. We also have the alderman’s office paying attention.”
May caught Damian’s ear a little while later, confirming that one of the locals had a son who was going to donate his weekends to helping collect local stories for use in the history corner of the old foyer, starting that weekend. Ruby opened a scrap book to show photographs she’d scanned, digitalized, and reprinted from the library. It was an impressive amount of work. Damian praised her and she smiled proudly, then leaned forward to whisper that Betti had helped but didn’t want anyone to know. “She doesn’t like this stuff,” Ruby shrugged. “But she’ll help me if I ask.”
“That’s because she likes you,” Damian said.
“I know.” Ruby skipped off, binder under her arm.
May watched her go and shook her head. “Those girls.”
“How’s Betti settling?”
“She’s pretending nothing happened. For now, that’s the best we can hope for. These things take time.”
Collin came around the tent, a pencil over his ear. “Damian, there’s someone down at the sidewalk who wants to talk. He won’t give his name.”
Damian’s stomach tightened. Now was not the time for this, and he was almost certain he knew who was outside. There wasn’t enough sleep under his belt, and he’d spent the last few days quietly organizing a takedown of international crime, not bracing himself for this.
