“Thanks,” I murmur. “I’ll think about it.” It feels impossible to consider moving, but maybe I need to widen my geographic search area since nothing is turning up in Winslow or Kingston.
Henry is just heading out with Azra and Crisanto when Dani shows up, ready to help pack up the store. She’s changed into a denim jumpsuit like auto mechanics wear, and it’s giving big Rosie the Riveter vibes. I check the time. Dot, Mom, and Gus are due back any moment to help. I look around the shop. I need to change clothes and eat something more than a sugar cookie. It’s going to be a long night with just the five of us to pack everything up.
Now that the filming is over, I realize I’m exhausted and wired at the same time. I glance around in discouragement. How are four women and a little boy going to get all this cleaned out tonight?
Dani is standing at one of the big front windows craning her neck and texting on her phone when I come out of the bathroom wearing leggings and a Mariners sweatshirt. My dad was a big baseball fan, and we used to go see a game every summer in Seattle.
“Finally!” Dani exclaims as I join her at the window. I see Dot and Mom and Gus coming down the sidewalk. Dot is holding a big stack of pizza boxes.
“What on earth are we going to do with that much pizza?” I ask in astonishment.
“Don’t worry. You’ll see,” Dani murmurs distractedly. “Oh, here they are! Finally!”
And then I see them…little clusters of people coming down the sidewalk toward us. I recognize our postal worker, George, and several of the small-business owners in town. Mary Beth and a few of her nail salon employees from the Nail Boat are crossing the street and headed our way. Sebastian and Hilda, the two other owners of the shops in our building, pop out onto the sidewalk. Sebastian owns Seasonings, an infused olive oil and spice shop, and Hilda is the owner of Retro Runway, a vintage clothing store.
“What are they all doing here?” I ask in bewilderment as Dani pulls the door open and people start to pour into the shop.
“They’ve come to help,” Dani says matter-of-factly.
I stare at the folks filing in the door, suddenly at a loss for words. I spot the owners of Away with Words, my favorite store in Poulsbo to buy gifts, handmade beauty products, and books from local authors. Justin, the gangly young barista from Byrdie’s, follows them in, holding an armful of bottles of wine and a stack of disposable wineglasses. He’s accompanied by one of the booksellers from Liberty Bay Books. One by one they come through the door. More than a dozen people in total. Each one gives me a hug or a high five or calls out a greeting. Even Walt is here, grumbling about the crowd but carrying his big toolbox.
“Why would everyone do this?” I ask Dani, astonished and touched.
“Because you always help everyone else,” Sebastian says, overhearing my question. He joins Dani and me at the window and presses a glass of crisp, fruity local Washington Riesling into myhand. “You look like you need this, honey,” he says. He’s impeccably dressed as always.
“There’s not a person in this room you haven’t helped somehow,” Hilda says, popping into the conversation. “You’re always doing someone a favor, dropping off a container of soup during flu season, babysitting somebody’s kid.”
“You agreed to be a cat sitter for Cinnamon for two weeks so I could go on that spice tour in Indonesia last year,” Sebastian chimes in. “Think of this as our way of giving back to you.” He looks at me fondly and clinks his wineglass to mine.
“Sebastian’s right,” Dot says as she walks by, carrying the stack of pizza boxes. “These are your people, Emmie. We’ve got your back.” Her answer warms my heart. She sets the pizzas by the register next to the wine.
“Remind me to pay you for the pizza,” I tell Dot, following her to the register.
“No need. Henry ordered these,” Dot tells me casually, hooking a thumb over her shoulder at the stack of pizza boxes. “Said to tell you he’s sorry he can’t be here in person to help. He’s got a production meeting tonight with some studio head of something or other, but he heard that pizza is an American moving tradition and he hopes it helps.”
I’m touched by the thoughtful gesture. A man who hauls trash without complaint and sends pizza when he can’t be there himself? That’s a keeper right there.
“Okay, everybody,” Dani yells, getting the room’s attention by using her police officer voice. “Let’s get this party started! Thank you all for coming. I know we all love Gwen and Emmie and want to help them pack up the store tonight. So here’s what we’re going to do.” She has a clipboard and has divvied up the volunteers into teams. She starts assigning tasks to each team, thenturns them loose to get to work. Someone puts on a playlist of ’90s pop hits, and Madonna starts pulsing through the store. People are dancing by, carrying cardboard boxes and big plastic trash bags. Someone is dispensing wine, and people are grabbing slices of pizza as they work. I feel myself tear up as I look around. What a beautiful show of support. All these people have given up their evening to help us pack up the store. I don’t know what to say, but I’m profoundly grateful.
Suddenly Dani is there, slinging her arm around me. She squeezes my shoulder and holds out a little plastic packet of tissues she keeps in her bountiful purse.
“How did you get so many people here on such short notice?” I ask, dabbing at my eyes.
“Dot invited everyone and I threatened to issue parking tickets for anyone who didn’t show up.” Dani grins. “Just kidding. Everyone loves you guys. They want to help. We had to turn people away because we were worried it would get too crowded in the store and make it harder to pack.”
“Thank you for this,” I say thickly. Mr. Butters comes up to Dani for a head scratch, then makes the rounds of the room, going to everyone, wagging his stubby tail, and grinning at all the commotion. He loves a good crowd. Tonight Mom has dressed him in a doggy-proportioned Mariners baseball jersey. He looks absurd, happy, and squat in his navy blue jersey that buttons around his thick tummy.
“Isn’t this amazing?” Mom asks, coming up to me. She looks teary too. I give her one of Dani’s tissues from the pack. “We’re so blessed to live in a place like this,” she says, wiping her eyes and looking around.
“We are,” I agree.
Just then I catch sight of Jakob coming through the front doorwith a huge pastry box. I’m surprised to see him after his early morning here. He’s already helped so much. He comes over to us and sets it between the pizza and the wine.
“Thought you could use some pastries,” he says, opening the box, which is stuffed with delectable-looking baked goods. He must have brought half the bakery. Gus runs up to him wide-eyed, peers in the box, and grabs a bear claw.
“Hey, Gus,” Jakob says easily. “Want to help Walt and me unscrew some shelves, if it’s okay with your mom?”
Gus nods mutely, cheeks bulging with bear claw.
