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Ansley
Today is my day off from the library, so I head to the café early. A slight thrill runs through me as I slide the key into the lock and open the etched glass French doors that open onto the patio.
I hang my purse and keys on the hooks by the door and turn on the lights.
Daddy started hanging the shelves last night, and one side is almost done. They look amazing, exactly as I envisioned.
I walk over to the long, scarred knotted pine bar and run my hand over it.
I love it. Just looking at it, you can tell it has history, and if it could talk, I’m sure it would whisper torrid tales of days past.
I spend the morning and afternoon unpacking boxes and stocking the pantry and cooler. The contractors I hired to install the tile in the bathrooms show up just before I have to meet with my business loan officer at the bank, and I leave them to their work. When I return, Graham Tuttle is standing inside, looking up at the unique-patterned tin ceiling.
“Hi, Graham,” I greet.
He brings his eyes to me. “Hi, Ansley. I came by to check on the progress of the crew. The bathrooms should be finished today,” he says.
“Great. I love the stenciled tile. It’s exactly what I wanted. Thank you,” I say as I make my way behind the counter.
“Yeah. You were right. It looks great.” He points up. “That ceiling is awesome too.”
I look up. “It turned out so well. I love the different shades of metal and the layering and stacking they did. It makes it feel big but still cozy in here,” I explain.
He nods. “Very rustic chic. I might have to steal this style to offer to some of my custom-home customers.”
I let the compliment pour over me like warm honey. I want the space to be warm and inviting. Rustic but with a modern flair. Sleek. A place where grown-ups want to spend their mornings and, someday, a place they can finish the night with a glass of wine and good acoustic music. The valley needs an option for adult dating. What else is there to do after you go to dinner or see a movie? Thirty- and forty-somethings don’t want to be brown-bagging at the mini-golf course at ten o’clock at night. I’m going to give them options. Books and coffee and desserts and wine. An adult haven.
“Are you hungry? I have some pastry samples from the bakery I can share with you,” I offer.
“Nah. I had a late breakfast with my brothers, and I’m taking Caleb out to dinner after school.”
Caleb is Graham’s fiancée, Taeli Lowder’s, son. Taeli and our friends, Erin and Jena, are coming by this evening to help me with a project here at the café.
“Thank you for taking care of him, so I can steal Taeli tonight,” I say.
“No problem. She’s looking forward to it.”
“Do you think you can finish the flooring in the kitchen by next Thursday? The company that’s bringing the cooler and the ovens wants to deliver them a few days early,” I ask.
“I think we can manage that. I’ll have them start this weekend. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of days.” He smiles at me. “It’s all coming together. You’ll be ready to open before you know it.”
“I know. I’m so nervous,” I confess.
“There’s no need to be. This café is going to be the new hit of the valley,” he assures me.
I sure hope so.
Daddy shows up an hour later with his youth pastor and two other volunteers.
They get straight to work, installing the rest of the bookshelves, and before I know it, they are all done.
I step back to take in the finished products.
The shelves extend from floor to ceiling and cover the entire right wall of the café. Daddy installed a rolling ladder on each side to make the top shelves accessible. In the center is a large stone fireplace. I wanted it to be wood-burning, but Mom and the town inspector talked me into a gas fireplace because it’s cleaner, easier to operate, and safer than the alternative. The gas logs are large and as close to natural-looking as one can get, and I’m pleased with the entire aesthetic. A large live-edge mantel is the cherry on top.
“These are going to hold a lot of books,” Daddy says as he joins me.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” I ask.
“Absolutely,” he agrees.
“Your mother is making fire-stamped signs for the shelves—Children, Young Adult, and Adult. What should the fourth one say?”
“Nonfiction,” I decide.
“I’ll let her know. We’ll be by later to hang them for you.”
“Thank you, Daddy, for everything.”
He kisses my cheek. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, baby girl.”
I’m so lucky to have him and Mom in my corner. They have always been supportive of me and my dreams. My soft place to land when things go wrong and my biggest cheerleaders when I step out and take chances.
“Can I take you to lunch?” I ask.
“I’d love to, but I have to drop by the hospital to visit one of our church members who had surgery yesterday.”
My father. Always the pastor. Always taking care of the community.
“Rain check?” I ask.
