“How is it, hon?” Paula calls.
“Perfect,” I answer, beaming at myself in the mirror. It feels perfect for me.
Five minutes later I walk out of the shop with another bag, this time with the right size dress inside. I stop just outside thedoor and pull out the napkin and a pen. I make a correction to the list and then I put a check mark beside it.
•Yellow dressthe right yellow dress thatfits!
Feeling strangely jubilant, I head for the shop, delighted that at least for this morning, I’ve figured out one right thing. For now, that is enough.
I’m almost to the shop when I get a text from Dot asking me to come to the Green Light Diner.
Urgent meeting about the county,her texts says. That sounds serious. Alarmed, I change direction and head for the diner, wondering what has happened. Mom, Walt, and Dot are already there at a table in the window. Hilda is there too, which is a surprise. Dot waves to me when I come in. I slide into a seat and set my bag on the ground.
“Morning, everyone. What’s so urgent? What’s going on?” I look around the table. Everyone is just drinking coffee except Walt, who is tucking into the Hungry Viking Signature Platter, an enormous plate of breakfast foods that includes buttermilk biscuits, hash browns, ham, eggs, bacon, and gravy. It’s like a heart attack on a plate, but from the look on Walt’s face, at least he’ll die happy.
Mr. Butters is there too, of course, but strangely he is not wearing anything on his tubby body. No hats or ties or doggy vests. That’s unusual. He looks a little naked but seems very pleased about it.
Dot gives me a wink. “Morning, sunshine,” she says. “How’re you feeling?”
“Fantastic.” I shoot her a warning look and shake my head slightly. I haven’t talked to Mom this morning, and I don’t wantto start a conversation by confessing that I was out drinking mezcal at midnight.
Just then Sebastian comes in the door and slides dramatically into the last remaining seat at the table. “Apologies,” he says. “I couldn’t find the right pocket square this morning. Such a bother.”
Our waiter appears and pours us coffee before we can even ask.
“Thanks, Brody.” I smile at the clean-cut young man. He’s Mary Beth’s youngest son, home for the summer from college in Pullman.
“Did you all have a chance to review the sales offer?” Dot asks, sliding a document across the table to me. Everyone nods. I scan the document in puzzlement.
“What’s this?”
“An offer to buy our building,” Mom explains. “From a local investor.”
Surprised, I read it quickly. My eyes skip to the purchase price. It’s a very good offer, even split four ways. More money than I would have expected. But this is all so sudden. I don’t know what to think.
“We all have to decide to sell or the deal is off,” Dot says. “It’s for the whole building.”
“What about our businesses?” I ask, alarmed. “Would we have to move? I’m just about to open the store.”
“The owner is offering us very good long-term rents,” Dot explains. “No need to move if you don’t want to.”
“Oh, that’s a relief,” Hilda says. “What would I do with my time if I didn’t have the shop?”
“Thesearevery good terms,” Sebastian agrees, consulting his copy of the sales agreement. He looks thoughtful. “I have visions of expanding my shop hours, offering some cooking classes andbespoke events…This offer would certainly make that financially possible.”
Taken aback, I scan the letter. The buyer is listed as an LLC.
“Anyone know who the buyer really is?” I ask.
Dot and Walt exchange a look.
“It’s me,” Walt announces, chewing a large bite of ham.
“You’re Rainy Day Real Estate LLC?” I ask, astonished.
Walt nods. “I am.”
“Why do you want to buy our building?” Hilda asks.
