Two months later
“Welcome to the grand opening of Sprinkle,” I announce proudly, holding the door wide for my parade of guests. Dani is first in line, followed by Dot, Mom, and Gus, who is wearing a little bow tie and a three-piece suit for the festivities. He looks adorable and I can’t resist giving him a kiss on the cheek, which he squirms away from. He’s also got a tape measure and a screwdriver in the pockets of the suit. He carries them everywhere now. He is flanked by Mr. Butters, who is wearing a dapper doggy tuxedo for this happy occasion. Usually these days Mr. Butters wears no accessories, but today is a special day. He waddles into the store and promptly tries to scrape his bow tie off against the corner of a display case.
Hilda and Sebastian come in next, followed by Paula, Mary Beth, and Justin. A few other friends and neighbors crowd in behind them. I keep the sign on the cheery yellow door turned toCLOSED,as we are not officially open for another half hour. But I’ve invited the VIP guests early to sample the confections and tochristen the space with a champagne toast. Sprinkle has been open for more than a month already, but this was the first time Henry could get away from his shooting schedule to join us, so we are throwing a belated grand opening now, when he can be here to film.
Everyone wanders around oohing and aahing admiringly, tasting samples of all the chocolates I offer. Soft instrumental music is filtering out from the hidden speakers.
Mom comes up and squeezes my hand. “It’s perfect, sweetheart,” she says, looking around. “I’m so proud of you.” She’s been in here many times before, and even runs the register for me when I can’t be in the shop, but there’s something special about today. We’re celebrating the future and remembering and honoring the past.
“Emmie, these are incredible,” Paula exclaims from across the room as she bites into an espresso truffle with sweet cream ganache.
“Ooh, so is this dark chocolate huckleberry one,” Hilda chimes in, mouth full.
“Utterly divine!” Sebastian agrees, nibbling one of my Rainier cherry and vanilla buttercream truffles.
Everywhere I look there are truffles and bonbons, caramels and pralines artfully arranged in gleaming glass-and-wood cases around the store. Under a glass dome on the counter sits a very special collection of ruby chocolate truffles filled with rose and cardamom cream and adorned with gold sprinkles. Those are not for sale. They’re only for guests who come in looking weary or stressed or heartbroken. They’re a gift for anyone who looks like they need a little boost of courage.
I gaze around in satisfaction. The shop looks exactly as I dreamed it would, with dark wood floors, big light-filled windows,and a few whimsical decorations. I got my tree at last—painted silver with twinkly lights and chocolate ornaments, and a bird’s nest of spun chocolate with colorful chocolate eggs perched in the branches. There’s a big, black old-fashioned cash register at the longest counter, and behind it a mural a local artist painted depicting a beautiful meadow of wildflowers sloping down to a whitecapped sea. It’s elegant and a touch quirky and exactly what I had in mind. Well, except for the case of fudge prominently displayed in front of one of the big windows. I thought I was done with fudge, but it turns out that making a couple of batches a week actually feels nostalgic. Seeing the fudge now makes me smile and think of Dad. I believe he would have loved how this is turning out.
The bell jingles and Walt saunters into the shop, wearing his nicest pair of denim overalls and a Cubs hat. “Place is looking great,” he says, gazing around admiringly. He greets Mom with a swift peck on the cheek, tips his hat to Dani and Dot, then walks over to the case and checks out the fudge flavors.
“Came to collect my weekly fudge allowance,” he announces.
“Sure. What can I get for you, Walt?” I unfold one of the little fancy gilt boxes.
“Well now, how about half a pound of chocolate cherry and half a pound of vanilla walnut?” Walt hooks his thumbs in his overall suspenders and looks proudly around the store. “It turned out super, kid,” he tells me. “Your dad would have been proud of you. He was always so proud of you.”
I swallow around the sudden lump in my throat. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Walt,” I tell him, adding an extra portion of Oreo fudge to the box. Walt is my grumpy guardian angel. Without him, I never could have completed the store like this. He and Jakob brought my vision for Sprinkle to life.
Speaking of Jakob, he should be here any minute. I glance toward the door, eager to see him. We’ve been inseparable for the past two months. They’ve been the happiest months of my life.
“Walt, come tell Dot about that book we just listened to, the crossword puzzle one where the clues pointing to the murderer are hidden in the puzzle.” Mom gestures Walt over and he goes willingly. He is a regular now at puzzle night, and one or two evenings a week Mom is over at his little house outside of town, doing a puzzle and listening to audiobooks. Unsurprisingly, Mom was horrified by the true crime podcasts, so they’ve found a nice compromise in cozy mysteries where someone still dies but in a gentler manner. I confess I don’t always understand their relationship, but Walt’s gruff kindness is growing on me, and Gus has even taken to calling him Uncle Walt. I just know that Mom has seemed to bloom in the last two months. Her world has expanded, and she is thriving.
“Emmie, this place looks amazing.” Dani comes over to me, sucking on one of the lavender gray sea salt caramels I set out among the samples. “And I still love the name. It’s perfect.”
“Itisperfect,” I agree. I’ve kept the meaning of the name a secret. Only my mom and Jakob know the full story. I told him all about the glass container of sprinkles the first week we were dating. He was skeptical at first, but now he sprinkles them on his morning oatmeal just like Gus.
I glance around. “It’s what I always dreamed of,” I tell Dani, feeling so happy I could float.
Everything is how I pictured it, but I am different now. I’m not trying to force myself into anything. I’m letting myself show up in my own life, letting my dreams and desires have a seat at the table. And what I’ve found is that when I do that, everything feels smoother, easier. Like switching the pinchy yellow dress for theright size, I feel like I can breathe again. Saying no to everyone else dictating the shape of my life has allowed me space to dream again, to desire, to have a say. Now I can focus on the most important things—the people closest to my heart and the work I love.
I glance over at Gus, who is stuffing mini espresso truffles with sweet cream ganache into his mouth as fast as he can while Mr. Butters watches and wags his stubby tail enthusiastically. “Hey, buddy, slow down,” I admonish, ruffling his hair. “Those have caffeine.” It’s going to be a long night tonight depending on how many he ate before I noticed.
Dani snorts. “Here, try this, Gusto.” She hands him one of the huckleberry bonbons. “Have you heard from Henry?” she asks me.
“He’s on his way from the airport. He texted me,” I tell her.
Henry left six weeks ago, memoir mostly completed, but not before signing a contract to purchase the little beach cottage on the bay. He plans to come back next summer to finish the memoir. But right now he’s flying in from Iceland for the weekend on a quick break from filming to celebrate the grand opening of the shop. The episode ofSavorthat we filmed will air in a few weeks, and he has warned me to expect a substantial swell of customers. Our online shop is up and running, so we’re as ready as we can be. Today he’s bringing Crisanto to film our grand opening.
“That dress is super cute on you, by the way,” Dani says with an admiring glance at my dress the color of sunshine. “You’re giving me real Doris Day vibes.”
“Thanks!” I glance down and smooth the skirt happily. I’ve saved it for today, for the grand opening, and I feel both comfortable and glamorous. I take a deep breath, happy the dress stretches, happy I returned the other one that simply didn’t fit.
In a way, this yellow dress is symbolic. I almost let the vision make me keep a dress (and a love and a future) that wasn’t theright fit. But when I had the courage to finally be honest with myself, I discovered the best fit for me. I don’t think of the vision much anymore. I don’t need to. I now have the dress and the life and the man of my dreams, and I don’t feel constricted by “shoulds” and “oughts.” I feel free.
The door gives a little jingle as it opens. It’s Jakob. He’s wearing a sky-blue button-down shirt that brings out the ice of his eyes and a bow tie that matches Gus’s. His eyes sweep the room until he finds me. He crosses to me in three strides, sweeps me up, and plants a kiss firmly on my mouth.
“You look beautiful,” he whispers against my ear. “You’re definitely the sexiest small-business owner in Poulsbo.” He chuckles as I shiver and grab his shirtfront, tugging him down to me for another kiss. I’m not sure I’ll ever get tired of him walking across a room, eyes fixed on me like that. It’s only been two months, but we both know where this is going. We’ve even spoken the M-word, and I feel certain that our love story ends in forever. Gus adores him, Mom adores him, and most important, I think he’s the best thing since sliced bread. It took years in Europe, a few false starts, and some wrong turns, but I got here in the end, right where I’m supposed to be.
