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“Done. I’m going to start looking for work next week, but I’ll pitch in here. If there’s something I can do to help you get going, I’ll do it.”
“How about now, with those finishing touches?” Olivia gestured them out. “We need to dress the restroom.”
“Unisex, ADA compliant,” Audrey added.
“We need to choose the art. A table or console, something to go on it. We need to dress the tables in the café, and this and that.”
“My schedule happens to be open at this time.”
“Excellent. When we’re done, I’m taking both my girls out to dinner.”
She enjoyed it. For a few hours, she didn’t think of what she’d lost and what she had to do next. She enjoyed spending time with both women, debating appropriate art and furnishings, placing them, changing them.
And maybe putting just a little bit of her own stamp on a family business with her idea of adding fairy lights around the big window for a little sparkle.
She enjoyed dinner out, which, instead of the fancy she’d assumed her grandmother would choose, turned out to be pizza and a carafe of red house wine.
By the time she went to bed, she felt she’d actually accomplished something. Maybe, hopefully, she’d pulled out of wallowing time.
For the next few days she split her time between polishing up her résumé and helping prep for the grand opening. She unpacked, washed, and stored the cups, saucers, creamers, and sugar bowls her grandmother had designed for a local potter to create.
White with a red clover—the Vermont state flower.
“They’re perfect, Gram.”
“They are.”
“You need to price these for sale.”
“I thought about it.”
“I hope you do. I had this other thought.”
“How much is it going to cost me?”
“I think it’ll do the opposite, in the long run. It’s a wine bar, yes, and you’re tapping local vineyards for some of that. How about you tap local for your coffee beans, your tea? Then you can sell it—pretty tins of tea, classy bags of coffee. There are a couple of roasters local enough, and you could work with a tea farm. Vermont has a few.”
“That’s a thought.” And eyes narrowed on it, Olivia considered. “That’s a damn good thought.”
“Crafty Arts is all about Vermont arts and crafts. It plays on that. I did a little research.”
She reached in her bag, pulled out a folder.
“A little?”
“Well, once I got started. So it’s something to think about, going down the road.”
“And I will.” Olivia put on the bold red cheaters hanging from the chain around her neck, skimmed the first pages in the file. “It’s a good idea, Morgan. You’ve been an enormous help the last few days. Good brain, good eye, and a strong back. Much appreciated.”
She lowered the file. “I can’t talk you into managing the new space?”
“You don’t need me, Gram. If you did, I’d at least get you started. But you and Mom? You’ve got this. I need to get my own.”
“I expected that. So I’m going to tell you I heard Après—that’s the main bar at the resort—is looking for a bartender/manager. Or will be next week. Their head bartender just gave his notice. His wife got a job offer in South Carolina, and they’re relocating.”
Olivia set the file down. “Because I love you, I sucked it up, and I spoke with Lydia.”
“Lydia?”
