• Chart your own course, one step at a time…
Chapter 39
“Everyone got their order? Okay, then, let’s get started,” Dot announces. I glance around the laminated table at the small group of us gathered for an early-morning breakfast meeting at the Green Light Diner. Hilda, Sebastian, Dot, Mom, and I are all crowded around a table drinking diner coffee and discussing Walt’s offer and our options for the building. This is the first chance we’ve had to meet since Sebastian’s lawyer got back to him about the contract. It’s been two weeks since my disappointing kayak conversation with Jakob. I haven’t talked to him since that day, although he’s been at the shop every afternoon, finishing up the remodel. It should be done in the next week or even earlier. It’s been agony to not approach him, not try to win him back, but I’ve stayed true to my word and given him space. I’m focusing on my own path right now.
“Okay, let’s get down to brass tacks,” Dot says, spooning up some biscuit smothered in gravy and taking a huge bite from herHungry Viking platter. The woman can eat like a twenty-year-old linebacker and still stay lean as a string bean. It’s a mystery. She sits back and wipes her mouth with her napkin. “What do we think? Are we going to sell to Walt?”
We all look around the table at each other. “I could go either way,” Sebastian says. “As long as I can keep my store open.”
Hilda nods. “Me too.”
“Emmie?” They both look at me.
“I don’t want to sell. If at all possible, I want to keep the store in our family,” I say firmly. Mom smiles and sits back in her chair. She looks relieved.
Dot nods. “That makes two of us. I like owning my place. I don’t particularly want to have my brother as my landlord either. Sebastian, Hilda, how do you feel about not selling the building?”
“How will we afford the repairs if we don’t sell?” Hilda asks, looking worried.
Sebastian nods. “I’d be happy to not sell if we could find a way…”
For the hundredth time I wish I could think of a way to raise the money we need to keep the shop. I couldn’t sleep last night, so I stayed up late making pralines and brainstorming. Unfortunately, in the cold light of morning, none of my ideas look promising or realistic. I don’t know what we’re going to do. The pralines are delicious though.
“Let’s brainstorm. Who has any ideas?” Dot asks.
“Maybe a yard sale?” Hilda suggests tentatively. My heart sinks. That is, surprisingly, an even worse idea than the ones I’ve already come up with. This is not a promising start.
Beside me in a red vinyl chair, Mom is pecking at her buttered toast. I can tell she’s not listening. Her eyes keep drifting to a redvinyl booth at the back. I know that booth. It’s where she first saw my dad. This place holds a lot of memories for her. The whole town does.
“Do you have any good ideas?” I ask Dot, pouring syrup on my buttermilk pancake. I know I should probably be eating an omelet or oatmeal or something healthier, but my dad brought me to the diner every Sunday morning to eat buttermilk pancakes before church, and I’m missing him fiercely right now. A pancake doesn’t take away the feeling of loss, but it salves the ache a bit.
Dot grins. “No, but I know someone who does,” she says. “Ask him.” She points with her fork toward the front of the restaurant just as the bell over the door jingles. I see who it is and immediately feel a little lightheaded. Jakob strides into the diner with a stern expression and a sheaf of papers in his hand and stalks toward our table. He looks good. Sort of grim, but good. He’s in his usual blue jeans and a tight gray Henley with the sleeves rolled up. He meets my eyes and instantly it feels like someone lit a sparkler and it’s crackling down my spine. I can’t look away. He breaks the connection first.
“Jakob asked to meet with us today and share something he’s found,” Dot tells us. “Right, Jakob?”
Jakob pulls up a chair and straddles it backward. He’s directly across the table from me. “I got the idea after talking to Emmie.” He clears his throat and doesn’t look in my direction. “I started poking around online. I figured maybe there was money available to help save historic buildings, some foundation or grant or something that could help. Turns out I was right.”
“You found something?” Hilda asks eagerly, scooting to the edge of her seat in anticipation.
Jakob nods. “The American Norwegian Heritage Foundation has a fund for historic building preservation,” he explains. “So I did a little research on the history of your building and I wrote to them. I just got a reply yesterday.”
“What did they say?” Mom asks eagerly. All eyes are trained on Jakob. He distributes the papers he’s holding, and I glance at my copy. It looks like a letter of some sort.
Dot holds up the sheet of paper and reads aloud:
Dear Mr. Kristensen,
We received your application and accompanying documentation regarding the urgent repairs needed to the historic Front Street building in Poulsbo, Washington. After conducting our own research, our foundation historian determined that this building does indeed have a strong and proud Norwegian heritage. It was, in its over one-hundred-year history, the site of many Norwegian-owned stores and businesses, as well as the location where Norwegian American potter Lars Aland produced some of his finest pottery pieces celebrating his family’s Norwegian heritage.
We at the American Norwegian Heritage Foundation are dedicated to preserving our Norwegian cultural heritage in America. Based on the historical value of this building and its location in Poulsbo’s historic downtown, the preservation committee has unanimously voted to award you and your fellow building owners a grant of twenty thousand US dollars to assist in covering the cost of the repairs. We hope this grant will ensure the building can continue to proudly represent Norwegian culture and heritage for many years to come.
Dot stops and lowers the paper, glancing around the table at us.
Sebastian looks astonished. “They’re giving us half the money we need for the repairs?” he asks.
Dot nods and keeps reading.
Please call our office during business hours so we can arrange further details regarding the payment of the grant. We at the American Norwegian Heritage Foundation are proud to support the town of “Little Norway,” Poulsbo, Washington, and to help preserve this historically significant building.
