“Listen to Gwen,” Dani pipes up. “Take the money.”
I hesitate. The offer is so tempting. What would it look like to make that part of my vision a reality, to have my own shop, to get to be creative with chocolate instead of walking around this big marble slab like a mule around a grindstone day after day? But am I ready? It’s a big change, albeit one I’ve been dreaming about for years. Mom has given me an amazing opportunity. Am I brave enough to take it?
I glance at Mom, who smiles encouragingly. “It’s your decision, sweetie,” she says.
I think of Henry’s words and of the shop from my vision. How will it happen if I don’t make space for it in my life? No fairy godmother is going to miraculously pop into my world one day, wave her wand, and give me a chocolate shop with glass display cases and gleaming walnut hardwood floors. In life we have to make our own magic, Dot likes to say. I think she may be right. Mom has given me a chance, if I am bold enough to try. Maybe it’s time for me to be my own fairy godmother.
I glance at the little glass cylinder of sprinkles sitting on the shelf, remembering the words written on the card.For courage.I sneak a look at Dani, who has gone back to googling facts about Henry and isn’t paying attention. Quietly, I reach up and pull down the container, unscrewing the cap and shaking a few sprinkles into my hand, careful not to draw attention to what I’m doing. Mom and I agreed to keep the sprinkles a secret for now. I place a sprinkle on my tongue, then another and another. The delicate floral sweetness melts slowly in my mouth, and as it does, I feel the familiar zing of anticipation, almost electric. I feel it right down to my toes. For courage indeed.
“Okay,” I blurt out, surprised by my sudden resolve. “Let’s do it.”
I am usually cautious before I make a big change. I like to consult spreadsheets and crunch numbers and weigh pros and cons before making a weighty decision like this. Truth be told, I’m itching to do just that. What if this goes sideways? What if my shop fails and we are left with nothing? It’s a terrifying thought. But even worse is the thought of waiting and waiting, of letting my vision slip away day by day. I have to act.
Mom is watching me closely. “It’s time, Emmie,” she says quietly.
She’s right.
I keep creaming. The fudge is now viscous and shiny. It’s ready for the final stage, forming it into a long loaf shape so we can slice it. I switch to a short-handled metal scraper that resembles a wide putty knife and keep working the fudge.
“Where do I start?” I ask a touch nervously.
“You take it step by step,” Mom says.
“We need a list,” Dani says, holding up her phone and looking at me expectantly. She loves getting to start a new list. “We canbrainstorm a list of what you’re looking for in a space. Starting with location—what are you thinking? Somewhere here in downtown Poulsbo?”
I hesitate. Suddenly this is feeling very real. I’ve always dreamed of Paris, or New York, even toyed with the idea of Portland or Seattle. But here in Poulsbo? That’s never been the dream. Thinking about opening my shop anywhere else presents a huge problem, however. Gus and I would have to move. We’d have to leave Mom, and I wouldn’t be able to help out with the Happy Viking at all anymore. I imagine Mom struggling to cope with the demands of managing the store, even if we hired good help. And what about her living alone? Picturing her trying to open a can of soup with her gnarled fingers brings a pang to my heart. I can’t relocate to another town. It’s just not going to work with the realities of our life right now. Mom needs us, and our family business is here. We can’t leave Poulsbo. And yet I really want a fresh start for my shop, somewhere I can create a business entirely on my own terms, the way I’ve always dreamed. I worry my lip, thinking.
“I guess I picture it somewhere else other than Poulsbo,” I admit. “But I know we can’t move, so what are my options?”
Dani considers my question. “What about Winslow?” she suggests, tapping one nail against her red lipstick. Winslow is a picture-perfect harbor town on neighboring Bainbridge Island. “The downtown gets great tourist traffic with the ferry terminal to Seattle right there.”
I entertain the idea for a minute. It would be a twenty-five-minute commute, but that feels doable. “Winslow could work…”
“Or Kingston?” Mom pipes up. Another adorable town close by with a ferry terminal.
“Also a good option,” I agree. “Let’s see what’s available forrent in both those towns.” It’s not Paris or New York, but maybe it will be good enough, far enough away that I can create my own thing out from under the shadow of my family’s legacy here.
As I work the fudge, we talk about the possibilities and brainstorm together. I’m growing more excited by the minute. Dani is on Pinterest, pinning inspiring images from French chocolate shops. Mom is making a list of requirements for a space for the shop on a legal pad in her slightly wavering handwriting. Dark wood floors. Big windows. She writes down all the details I can think of.
I start another batch of fudge, almost afraid to hope. Is this really happening? I have no idea what I’m getting myself into. There are so many things I have to plan for—finding an affordable space to rent, setting up and advertising the shop, handling making chocolates in the quantities needed to keep the business afloat. And I have to find someone to help out here at the fudge shop, and I’ll need to walk Mom through taking over more of the responsibilities of running this place. Dad always handled the business side of things, and after he got sick, I filled both of their shoes while Mom took on the role of caregiver for him.
It’s more than a little daunting to consider everything we need to do to make this happen, but still I feel a swell of anticipation. I am doing this. I am making my chocolate shop a reality. I’ll deal with the practicalities later. I think of the list we made on the napkin tucked in my purse.
To-Do List
• Henry + Emmie fall in love
• Chocolate shop
• Yellow dress
• Engagement ring + proposal
I can’t force Henry Summers to fall in love with me, or buy an engagement ring, or propose. Our relationship will have to unfold at its own pace. And I haven’t even started looking for a yellow dress yet. But this is something I can move forward on. With my mother’s blessing and her little nest egg, I can finally open the chocolate shop of my dreams.
I can’t wait to get started.
Chapter 11
