Page 10 of Salty, Spiced, and a Little Bit Nice

I looked up and my face spontaneously broke into a grin.

The pictures I’d seen online didn’t do the place justice. It was as if the store had been lifted out of an idyllic countryside and plunked in the middle of this shopping strip. The walls were madeof beautiful recycled red bricks, giving off a timeless, warm, and rustic charm. The door and the windows had charcoal-colored trims, with a black metal hanging sign dangling above the door. The cute yarn store next to my shop had painted white bricks, a blue door, and blue window frames, while the ice-cream shop on my other side had striped, red-and-white awnings with vintage wrought iron chairs and tables outside on the sidewalk.

It wasawesome.

I was vibrating with excitement.This is the start of the greatest year of my life.Fishing out the keys from my pocket, I unlocked the front door and walked in.

Only for my jaw to practically clatter to the ground.

Instead of an empty space full of hopes and dreams, I saw a mess of catastrophic proportions and my life flashing before my very eyes. A long, thick piece of tree limb had impaled the roof at the back of the store, which was why it wasn’t visible from outside. There was a massive hole where a significant part of the roof used to be, and a pile of debris littered the floor: a bunch of broken roof tiles, some plasterboard sheeting, chunks of drywall, shattered floor tiles, and bits and pieces of twigs and leaves. The tree had also knocked out part of the back wall where the pipes were, causing water to slowly trickle onto the floor.

It took me a few minutes to fully comprehend the scene in front of me, because I was too busy flexing my multitasking muscle: gawking at the unholy mess that was supposed to be the start of my new life, whilst excavating my jaw from the ground and simultaneously brainstorming multiple doomsday scenarios in which I had to declare bankruptcy and beg strangers for mercy at the side of the road to survive, or worse, go home andbeg my parents for their forgiveness.

No.That was not an option. I wasnotgoing back home, no matter how bad things were. I gingerly stepped around the debris, jumping when something hairy—a squirrel? No,two squirrels—climbed down the fallen tree from the hole in the roof, before scurrying out through the open front door. As I stared at the disaster that was nowhere near my worst nightmare, it became harder to stay calm. I wondered if this so-called fresh start was actually the first step toward permanently screwing over my life and whatever hope I had of a future away from my family. The quiet reflection from earlier had vaporized, replaced by fear, mercilessly seeping into my pores, and I began to hyperventilate, as panic threatened to overtake me.

Inhale, exhale.

Maybe I should count to ten and think of my happiest childhood memories. There weren’t many, but I should be able to conjure one up if I really put my mind to it.

Inhale, exhale.

Nope, epic fail. Maybe I should close my eyes to avoid looking at this atrocious sight in front of me.

That didn’t work either because the vision was already permanently imprinted on my brain. This entire thing was my own fault. I had brought this on myself. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t had the brilliant idea to start my own bakery, would it?

Get a grip on yourself, Ellie.Swallowing the scream that was threatening to spill out of me, I took a few deep breaths, counted to twenty, then opened my eyes, feeling my heartbeat slowing down.

Okay, shit happens, right? Problems and challenges are part of life. It was how I reacted to them that mattered. Having type 1 diabetes taught me how to be flexible, to adapt to things quickly, and to always be prepared for all kinds of possibilities. Underestimated my carb count? No worries, I had my trusty insulin pump for that. Gave myself too much insulin? Nothing a juice box or some glucose tablets couldn’t fix. Unsure how much carb was in that plate of fettuccine carbonara? Just make my best educated guess and adjust for the difference later.

Finding a ruined store on the first day of the rest of my life?

It was nothing I couldn’t handle.

All I had to do was call the Realtor that had handled the lease, explain the situation, and they would organize for the landlord to fix the damages, just like what the owner at my old apartment used to do.

I pulled out my phone, and in my calmest, most professional voice, informed the Realtor that I had found substantial damage to the property, only for them to remind me that I had signed a “triple net lease,” which meant the tenant—me—was responsible for all expenses of the property, including any repairs and maintenance. It had been storming and raining heavily for the past two weeks, which had probably caused the tree to fall and part of the roof to collapse.

Internally screaming, I thanked the Realtor and hung up. Fine, surely the insurance company could help, right? But after being put on hold for over an hour, the cheerful voice at the other end told me that because they had been inundated with calls, they wouldn’t have an available claim adjuster to assess the damage untilnext month.

If my mom were here to witness this, she’d probably shake her head patronizingly and murmur choruses of, “See, Ellie? You couldn’t survive out in the world on your own.”

Yes, I can.She was wrong, and I’d prove it to her. I had everything riding on this, and I’d rather forge a friendship with all the squirrels in the world than crawl back home, admitting defeat. I had to turn this around, come hell or high water.

So I looked up building contractors in the area and called them one by one. But they were all tied up in various projects, and one hour and thirteen unsuccessful phone calls later, I was ready to pull my hair out. The earliest someone could start working was in nine weeks.

Nine. Fucking. Weeks.

Not knowing what else to do, I called Eric.

“Ellie! I was just about to give you a call. How’s the new place?”

“A disaster.” I told him about the property as I fought to keep my voice steady. “Nobody is available to fix the place for another nine weeks. I don’t know what to do.”

There was a long pause, before my brother’s voice came back on the line. “Let me make some calls. But you’ve got to promise me that you won’t be upset.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I know someone who can help. But you can’t be mad.”

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