Page 51 of Puck Daddies
“Agreed,” Rocco says.
“We’ll map it,” Hudson says. “Two lists—legal and logistics.”
I pick up a pen. “I have a third list. Purchase.”
Meg holds up a hand. “Oliver.”
“Not me buying it. Us. The community. A micro-invest path to buy the building if needed. You won’t take my money. I respect that. This is different. We build a small investor syndicate with caps on individual stakes. We let regulars, vendors, neighborhood people, and fans buy in. We structure it so no one person, including me, controls it. The building becomes a community asset with Bea’s as anchor tenant.”
Meg looks at me, then at the folder, then back at me. “Explain.”
So, I do. Meg listens without interrupting. Hudson looks at me like he’s watching a face-off. Rocco nods along and takes notes. “…I’ve already texted a friend who does small community offerings. He’ll take a call and tell us where the lines are. Dana can oversee. We can’t post ‘invest now’ on Instagram. We can build a list and prepare filings. We can talk to the credit union that supports small businesses on the east side. They’ve worked with Habitat before.”
Meg rubs her thumb over the edge of the table. “I don’t want my name on a bailout where your family looks like they saved me.”
“It won’t be that,” I say. “The documents will be plain. The bank will see steady rent, community support, and your sales figures. It’s a good investment.”
Hudson leans in. “We publish every dollar.”
“Yes,” I say. “Transparent.”
Rocco taps the pad. “Timeline.”
“Two paths in parallel,” I say. “Legal—Dana files Monday. She asks for a stay, aims for ninety days. Finance—we start groundwork now so we’re ready the day we get a ruling. That means building the interest list, vetting structures, andsetting terms. Logistics—we plan for the worst. We mark what moves, what sells, what stays. We line up storage, trucks, and volunteers. We don’t panic. We don’t stop the line.”
Meg exhales. “I hate this. I also love that you have a list.”
Hudson cracks his knuckles. “Assignments.”
“Legal prep,” Meg says. “Me and Dana.”
“Vendor outreach,” Rocco says. “I’ll call Marisol and Lisa and the others. They’ll spread the word quietly.”
I nod. “I’ll call the credit union. No commitments. Just a conversation about underwriting for a small syndicate purchase.”
Meg agrees. “I’ll ask Dana to refer the right securities counsel.”
We work for an hour. We build a master doc. We set deadlines that fit the week. I cook while we talk because feeding people makes it easier to keep going. Hudson takes over when I get lost in a sentence. Plus, he salts better than I do. Rocco checks the calendar and adds Thursday’s event prep tasks and the new ones for Monday. Meg types. Her face is calm again. Good.
I pull plates out and we eat at the table, shoulders touching. We don’t talk about my father again. It doesn’t help. We talk about what we can control instead.
By the time things are in motion, it’s late. Rocco gathers plates. Hudson starts the dishwasher. Meg prints the interest sheet and tapes it to a clipboard. I put the clipboard in her tote so she doesn’t forget it in the morning.
She looks at me when the others drift to the living room. “Family okay otherwise? Caroline, your mom?”
“They’re as good as they ever are.” I pause for a beat. “Dad also told me to fund something meaningful, and that might be the best advice he could give me. So I’m going to help buy a building with a hundred of our closest friends.”
She laughs once, tired but real. “That counts.”
I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You okay?”
“No,” she says. “But I will be.”
“We’re going to do everything we can. “You are not alone.”
“That’s why I’ll be okay.” She pushes up on her toes and kisses my cheek. “Thank you for the plan.”
“You’re welcome.”
