Page 127 of Will Bark for Pizza
I had an army of people not only ready to help, but excited to bring Brenda’s Book Nook back to life.
We’d been working our asses off, but nostalgia was high as we shared countless memories that included Mom. There were plenty of tears, but so many more laughs. I hoped Mom was smiling down on this mismatched group of book lovers, laughing right along with us.
“The curtains turned out great, Lotti,” I said.
“Thanks! I’ve been saving that fabric for a couple of years, waiting for the perfect project.”
“I’m honored to have them here.”
“So, I have some bad news, and some terrible news,” Patrick said from behind the computer at the register. His grim tone squashed the happy mood instantly. Carlos had convinced his accountant husband to not only review the books for Brenda’s Book Nook, but to stay on for the first month to help set the store up for success. The grim expression on Patrick’s face made me wonder if he was regretting his offer. “Which news do you want first?”
“Just hit me with it,” I said.
“There are more outstanding invoices than we originally thought,” Patrick said, his tone an apology. Not that he nor anyone else huddled at the bookstore tonight had a thing to be sorry about.
“Why am I not surprised?” I muttered.
“How much damage are we talking?” Thelma, one of the primary new investors, asked.
“Twelve grand.”
“Total?” Carlos asked.
“On top of the eight thousand we already accounted for,” Patrick said. “So, twenty total.”
“Fucking Margene,” Thelma muttered before she remembered Opal was at the back of the store. My niece had the choice to hang out at the bookstore with me or at the hardware store with her dad and grandpa while they did inventory. She was here, curled up on a beanbag—one so worn it needed replacing before we re-opened—reading Husker a book about Colorado wildlife. If she noticed the cursing, she didn’t acknowledge it. “Sorry,” Thelma apologized.
“What’s theterriblenews?” I asked hesitantly.
“Some of these vendors have already sent you to collections.”
A knot coiled in my stomach, making me regret my earlier decision to order nachos from the Mexican restaurant down the street.
Collections added an extra layer of complication we didn’t need.
“Maybe we don’t tell my dad about this,” I said to the group.
Dad had been by earlier to chat about the state of the business. He’d kept the utility payments current and used his savings to shore up the outstanding payroll. But he couldn’t do more until the sale of the building was final without dipping into his retirement fund—which I was absolutely not going to allow him to do. Even after the sale, paying off the second mortgage was the priority. If, and only if there was anything left, he’d help pay off the outstanding debts.
Because he hadn’t officially signed overthe business to me yet, he tried, once again, to talk me out of doing this. To let him file bankruptcy before trying to save Mom’s store bled me dry. He even suggested closing Brenda’s Book Nook so I could start a brand new business of my own.
But I just couldn’t.
I was already in this. I made a commitment not only to the book club members, but to myself. And to Mom. Brenda’s Book Nook was the next chapter in my life. After the last few years that nearly broke me, and the last year I spent merely existing, I was ready for my life to have purpose again. Saving the bookstore that shaped my childhood seemed like a pretty damn good way to accomplish that.
“I hope your mother is haunting Margene’s ass,” Thelma muttered.
“She is,” Opal piped up, causing everyone to turn their heads to the back where she sat with Husker. “Karma is catching up to her.”
Sometimes, my eight-year-old niece said the oddest, yet most profound things. I couldn’t help but hope she was right. But even if it were wishful thinking, it warmed a spot in my heart to know she felt such conviction.
“Good,” Thelma said.
“Karma’s going to bite her right in the behind,” Lotti said. “With shark’s teeth.”
“How does that look?” Beckett stood back from the display window now covered by a set of curtains that reached the raised landing. He’d drawn them closed, ensuring they were the right fit.
“It’s perfect,” Lotti said. “And just in time, too.”
