Page 122 of Matchmaking On The Menu

“She knew what she did.”

Despite myself, a laugh escapes me. Small. Watery. Entirely traitorous.

If all four of us owned the diner… I wouldn’t have to carry it alone. The realization lands so suddenly it almost steals the air from my lungs.

I could still write.

“And,” Quadri adds, like she’s just remembering, “I can help with the newspaper. Layout, design, all the visual stuff.”

Shelly snaps her fingers. “I can run ad space. Local businesses, sponsorships, all of that.”

Mary lifts her hand slightly. “I can handle the events calendar and keep track of all the community stuff going on.”

I blink again. Because now this isn’t just an idea. It’s a possibility.

I turn slowly back to Mrs. Newberry. “Is there even a budget for all of that?”

She considers for a moment. “If the additional roles remain part-time, I see no issue.”

I frown slightly. “That’s… surprisingly flexible.”

“The town recently received a rather generous donation,” she says, adjusting her handbag. “Anonymous. It has afforded us… breathing room.”

Anonymous. Huh. That’s… interesting. But not the point. The point is, this could actually happen.

I look at my friends, then at the diner. At everything I’ve been holding together for so long. And for the first time it doesn’t feel like I have to do it alone.

I turn back to Mrs. Newberry and extend my hand. “I’ll come in Monday,” I say. “Bright and early. We can go over the contract.”

She smiles as she shakes my hand. “I look forward to it.” Then, as if nothing monumental has just happened, she adds, “I’ll take a slice of chocolate cake to go.”

The second she’s out the door, all hell breaks loose.

Shelly squeals, then Mary. Then Quadri, who I didn’t think was physically capable of squealing, joins in with something that is definitely close enough.

And then they’re on me. Hugging. Laughing. Talking all at once.

“You’re going to run a newspaper!”

“Oh my god, this is so cool!”

“We’re going to run a newspaper.”

“That’s what I said!”

“No, you said she—this is we now.” I laugh, breathless, caught in the middle of it, feeling something expand in my chest that I don’t even know how to name yet. Pride. Love. Relief. All of it tangled together.

LOCAL WOMAN SUPPORTED BY FRIENDS. EMOTIONAL DAMAGE: IMMINENT.

When it all settles, I find Grandma in the kitchen topping off the coffee machine like she didn’t hear the commotion out front.

“Hey,” I say softly.

She glances up. “You done causing scenes in my diner?”

I huff out a laugh. “Maybe.”

She studies me for a second longer before setting the pot down. “So, you’re taking the newspaper job?”