Page 3 of A Hutch for Hoover

I had no idea why karma should enter into this. It was just a rental, a place to do business, not something the universe set up. Or maybe it was. Because since then, I’d learned it was Karma with a capital K, and she was a legend locally. Hannah, the property manager for the outlets, also had a recommendation for a nice complex where I could rent an apartment not too far away. And before I knew it, I was moving in and setting up shop and living the life I’d dreamed of.

Not that it was fast, easy, or cheap.

Every penny I’d saved went into the shop, but from the research I’d done, the rent was reasonable and the help provided by management for someone like me with no experience on this level, invaluable. Hannah and her team offered connections to reliable contractors and suppliers of all sorts. Considering how much I’d been worried about those things, it was a solid-gold benefit.

Because my shop, when I accepted the keys, was empty and echoing. I needed everything. The place I’d been going to look at in Phoenix had been some sort of an ice cream spot and had a lot of built-ins already, which would have given me a real head start.

According to my charcuterie neighbor, my new storefront used to be a scarf store. No plumbing beyond the bathroom, inadequate electrical for all the blenders and such, basically no infrastructure whatsoever, if that was the right term. And putting everything in was likely going to strain my savings. Or, so I thought, until I learned some of the installations were going to be done by the management. They were going to pay foranything permanently altering the building. Like electrical and some or most of the plumbing. I was able to put my funds toward things like freezers and refrigerators and the beautiful granite-topped counter. So many blenders, as well. Utensils, light fixtures, signage… It went on and on, but somehow I managed to purchase everything from list A: must haves. List B was more of a wish list and could be filled as I went along.

The folder I’d been filling with inspiration provided a valuable resource. The black-and-white tiles with little teal diamond shapes at the corners was as beautiful as I had hoped, the savings in other areas allowing me to make use of ironwood for some of the furniture and buy delicate café tables and chairs with the supports the same shade of teal as the diamond tiles.

Even though I wasn’t making money yet and what I had was disappearing rapidly, and of course there were glitches and things took longer than planned—I’d never had so much fun in my entire life. I’d been developing the recipes for years, as well, so no worries in that department.

And before I knew it, I was moving in and setting up shop and living the life I’d dreamed of.

“Hey, isn’t this the place with the world’s best smoothies?” asked a young man standing in front of the counter. “I read about you online.”

“That’s us.” The reviewer who said that about my product was officially my best friend, even if I had no idea who they were or when they’d come into the shop. “What can we make for you today?”

“Whatever that reviewer had.”

Oops. They hadn’t mentioned what it was in their comments. I could have fibbed, offered just about anything, but instead I just hedged. “Our flavors change daily, but we also have a secret menu, if you are interested?”

Of course, he was.

How do you know you’ve truly arrived?

Secret menu for the win.

Chapter Three

Hoover

I grabbed my lunch from the counter and headed off to work.

It had been a couple of months since I left my fluffle then moved to the desert. There wasn’t a day I didn’t miss my fluffle mates, my father and brother especially. I still talked to my brother a lot, but my father was still hurt I’d left.

It was hard to grapple with my feelings around that. And maybe it wasn’t that he was hurt I was gone, as much as disappointed in me, in how everything he worked so hard for all these years as he prepared me for the position was thrown out the window. And I hated to think of the man in such a cold way, but that was the reality. He too had been raised to be alpha then was alpha. His life had always revolved around that position and would until he took his last breath.

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. It hurt so bad. But there was nothing I could do to fix it other than play nice on video chats and pretend everything was okay. He was still my father and I loved him, despite how messed up things between us currently were.

Video chatting had proved to be a lifesaver for me. It auto-captioned what they were saying, and it wasn’t perfect—some days, ridiculously off—but it meant I could get a better grasp of the conversations and keep that tie alive.

My bunny missed being part of a community, being around people. I’d never thought I’d leave there and when I did, moving to the desert wasn’t even a blip on my radar. I liked living among the trees and the mountains, with the grass and the river. But as I traveled, wandering aimlessly, trying to find a place I couldbegin again, something told me this was home, and everything fell into place.

I got a cheap apartment quickly. And by cheap, I meant it was small, falling apart, and pretty shitty. But even before I got my job, I had enough money to stay there for a couple of years and get settled in. I didn’t want to go higher-end and deplete my savings when this space would do. It wasn’t like I was entertaining guests or raising a family in it. As long as I had a place to sleep, running water and electricity, and four walls, it was good enough.

At first, I tried to get some jobs in tech, but my strength was working on setting up new systems in offices, and that required communicating on a better level than most people thought I could when they saw my huge-ass hearing aids and I said, “what?” a couple times in the interviews. Either they saw I struggled too much with hearing, or they thought I wasn’t focused. Neither was good, and I still hadn’t figured out a way to advocate for myself. Most days, I struggled with even admitting to myself that my hearing was so poor.

I still had an open application at Wolf Enterprises, but aside from that, tech doors had all closed quickly for me. And maybe that was okay, because I ended up finding a job I liked. Who would’ve thought wandering into a store one day would be exactly what I needed.

The overhead light was broken, the landlord citing that it wasn’t a requirement to have one, therefore he didn’t have to fix it. I wasn’t sure that was true, but I didn’t push. With rent that reasonable, I could have some stability, at least for a while. So, I ventured out to find a lamp.

I ended up at a thrift store, wanting to save a few dollars, and I always did like hunting for treasure, so it felt like the perfect option. The place was great. It was huge and had everything from vintage wonders to modern clothes with tagsthat somebody must have been too lazy to return when they didn’t fit. A treasure around every corner.

They were looking for someone to work in the back, to sort through the new items and help price them. And I was given the job on the spot after I was able to pull out some items they had on display that could fetch a pretty penny online—specifically a couple of Bakelite frames that they had priced for fifty cents apiece that morning and a piece of costume jewelry by a very popular designer from back in the day.

I did find a lamp. But also, a purpose. And sure, part of it was having a job and feeling productive. But also, I discovered a hobby.

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