“Some of this work might already be done if you’re in one of the newer buildings,” the owner of the local tattoo shop observes. “We’ve got all-new plumbing that’s up to code, so it’s just electrical for us.”
For the next twenty minutes people share ideas, offer encouragement, and voice concerns. I scribble down anything that might be helpful. Mostly people are just venting their frustration and fear.
“I know it seems awful that the county is making us do all this,” Hilda comments loudly, but then she turns to Mom. “But it might not be all bad, right, Gwen? You are in the middle of a big repair because of old plumbing.”
Mom nods. “The pipes in our building are at the end of their lifespan, so it needed to be done,” she agrees. “Otherwise we could have more water damage like we have now.”
“What are you doing to the shop?” someone asks.
“Fixing the leak, replacing the flooring…” Mom glances at me questioningly. Do I want to tell the town what I’m going to do? I raise my eyebrows at her. It’s her decision too. She nods her permission.
“Actually, we’re doing a lot more than that,” I say, getting to my feet. “We’re not just repairing the damage. We’re doing something entirely new.” I pause, looking around at the expectant faces watching me. This is it. If I say it, then it will be real. No going back. “We’re transforming the Happy Viking from a fudge and candy store into a bespoke artisan chocolate shop. My shop.”
There is a moment of stunned silence and then everyone starts talking at once, giving congratulations and advice, offering to help in one way or another. I glance over at Mom, who gives me a tremulous smile. She looks equal parts proud and stricken. I understand the feeling.
A few minutes later Dot comes over as the meeting winds to a close. Sebastian is giving final instructions and making plans for the next meeting as people stand, scraping chairs across the floor, the room filling with a low hum of conversation.
“Proud of you, kid,” Dot says gruffly, pulling me into a one-armed hug. “I know it’s a leap of faith, but look at this community. We’ve got your back. We’ll help you any way we can. You’re doing the right thing. It’s going to be great. You’ll see.”
I nod, feeling nervous and excited and relieved.
My phone dings with a text as I’m gathering my purse and getting ready to take Gus to school. It’s from Henry.
Can I take you for dinner and dancing in Seattle tomorrow?
I don’t even hesitate. After checking with Mom to make sure she can watch Gus, I text back immediately.
I’d love to!
Feeling flirty, I even add a heart emoji at the end. I have so much to tell Henry, particularly about our new plan to turn the Happy Viking into my chocolate shop. And dinner and dancing sounds fancy. Tomorrow is Saturday night and I have a hot date…finally. After this whirlwind of a week, I can’t wait!
* * *
“Mom, did youknow that if you’re an astronaut and go to space, you actually grow taller?” Gus asks without glancing up from the tiny pieces of his LEGO modular space station. He’s sitting on a stool in the kitchen of the Happy Viking, assembling his new LEGO set while I try to finish up a new chocolate I’m creating. Joni Mitchell croons softly from my phone’s Apple playlist.
“Wow, sweetie, really? That’s cool,” I reply a little distractedly. I’m trying to finish these chocolates before my date with Henry this evening. We had a full day. Gus had a playdate with a friend from his class this morning and then a jujitsu exhibition this afternoon. I’m now racing to finish my last truffles before Henry comes. I have to have them done before he gets here. I want to get his opinion.
“It’s true, astronauts get taller in space. Also, sometimes they have to wear diapers, like babies do.” Gus pulls a face at this tidbit of information.
“Really? Wow.” I look up from rolling my final truffle in espresso powder, glance at the clock, and yelp. Henry is coming to pick me up in fifteen minutes. “Can you go find Grammy?” I ask Gus. “She’s with Dot. Dot is going to drive you and Grammy home and then Grammy is putting you to bed tonight, remember?”
Gus nods and hops off the stool. “And I can have mac andcheese for dinner because Grammy is cooking and that’s what she gives me,” he announces happily. I usually don’t let him have the boxed stuff, but it’s an easy dish for Mom to make and Gus loves it. I ruffle his hair and press a kiss to his head, holding him close for an extra few seconds, savoring the quick snuggle. I adore this kid. How can a human heart hold so much love and worry and protectiveness for one small human? It feels like my heart should be the size of a house to hold all that inside it. He gives me a squeeze around the middle, then trots off to find Mom. I wash my hands, whip off my apron, and hurry to the bathroom to slip into the dress and heels I brought with me from home. I had a feeling I might not make it back home to change after our busy day, so I brought everything with me. Smart move on my part.
I pull my hair back with a cute silver beaded headband and slick on a flirty coral shade of lipstick I only wear for nights out. There have been precious few of those in recent years. I can’t see all of myself in the tiny bathroom mirror, but I think I look good. The dress is one I wore to a wedding a few years ago, a floaty duck-egg-blue cocktail dress that cinches at the waist and has an A-line skirt. I feel glamorous in it, like a starlet from a bygone era. It’s the fanciest dress I own and it reminds me of Paris. It gives off definite Dior vibes although I got it at Nordstrom Rack. Henry told me we were going out on the town and that cocktail attire was appropriate. I hope this is good enough. It’s been years since I attended anything fancier than a wedding at our local Lutheran church.
Through the bathroom door I hear the bell over the front door jingle. Probably Henry. A moment later I hear Henry’s cultured tones and Mom chuckling softly and Gus’s high voice, likely sharing another alarming fact about the universe with Henry.There’s also a loud, rhythmic popping sound from the nail gun. Walt and Jakob are finishing up laying the subfloor today.
The last thing I do before I leave the bathroom is shake a few sprinkles into my palm and place them on my tongue. I tuck the glass container in my purse in case I need a boost of courage. Tonight feels momentous. I want it to be perfect, and I need all the courage I can muster. Then I spritz on a little gardenia perfume and float out to meet my date. He’s standing by the front door talking to Mom. Gus is over with Walt and Jakob, who appears to be letting Gus operate the nail gun on the last sheet of plywood of the new subfloor. Soon they will start installing the wood floors. I’m excited to see the shop’s new look take shape.
I open my mouth to call Gus over to me, or at the very least to urge caution, but then I catch the look on his face—pure glee and determination. Jakob is instructing him, hovering over the tool and demonstrating what to do, guiding my son’s small hands with his big ones. And Gus is looking up at Jakob like he’s God’s own truth. I pull back. I trust Jakob. He’ll make sure Gus is safe. I leave them be and walk over to Henry, my heels tapping on the floor. When he sees me, his face lights up.
“Emmie, you look gorgeous,” he says, kissing my cheek. The nail gun falls silent. I look over to find Jakob crouched beside Gus, staring right at me. Or rather at Henry and me. His look is fire and ice, sending a prickle of warmth along my skin as he sweeps me from head to heels. The glance he tosses at Henry is pure, chilly animosity. I shiver.
“Before we go, I’ve got a few more chocolates for you to try, ones I’ve been working on,” I tell Henry. “Do you mind sampling them and telling me which you like best?”
“I’d be honored,” he says.
I grab the Tupperware container from the kitchen.
