Page 63 of The Tattered Gloves
I couldn’t help but notice it smelled like him — a mixture of pine and mint. It smelled clean and comforting and—
Dear God, Willow… do not smell the jacket!
“So, you were saying something about the inventory?” I asked, trying to save myself from utter embarrassment.
His eyes were still on me as he slowly nodded. “Yeah,” he finally said, “I was thinking about switching up our stock. You know, appeal to the younger generation and stock stuff we like to read. Maybe then we could get more traffic in here.”
I nodded in agreement. “I think that’s a good start, but it’s not enough.”
He blinked in surprise. “Not enough? What am I missing?”
I could see he was slightly hurt by my comment, and the last thing I wanted to do was bruise his ego. What he’d done so far was nothing short of a miracle. Most kids our age couldn’t keep a store like this running, much less care about it. But, if I was going to help, I wanted to make it count.
“I’ve had the unique experience of growing up a bit differently than most of my peers.”
His eyes dropped to my gloves for a brief moment.
“No, not the…mittens, as you call them. Those are actually a fairly recent addition. I mostly meant, I’ve been kind of an outsider for a long time. It’s given me time to observe.”
“So, you’re the trainer, and we’re all the zoo animals?”
I smiled. “Kind of, I guess. Monkeys maybe?”
He laughed. “With Snapchat and iPhones?”
“Exactly! Anyway, not a lot of kids our age read. Offering books they might like isn’t enough to get them to walk through the door. And, as much as you hate to admit it, I think your dad does have a point. A coffee bar is really appealing. So, why not have both? I mean, it’s not reinventing the wheel by any means, but if big chains can do it, so can we.”
“So, you want to sell coffee?”
“Not just that. Make this a place for people to hang out. If we can get students here after school, doing their homework, there’s no end to what we could accomplish. Soon, we could be the place for stay-at-home moms to meet or a sweet spot for local artists to hang out.”
“Wow, that’s actually a good idea.”
“And, while they’re here, drinking their coffees and eating their scones or whatever, they will happen to see that book Oprah or Ellen talked about, and rather than ordering it online, they’ll grab it before they leave!”
“Genius!”
“I know. I really am. Why didn’t you think of this?”
“Honestly, the second my dad said coffee bar, I couldn’t even say the words without becoming angry. This is my store… my life. This is where I grew up.”
I fell silent for a moment, unsure of if I should say anything.
“Allison told me about your mom,” I said.
He nodded. “I’m glad it was her. God knows what horrible story you might have heard from someone else. But I’m surprised Addy didn’t tell you.”
I gave him a confused look. “Why would she?”
“She and my mom were really close. It’s why I got my hair cut by Addy. Well, untilsheleft, that is.”
The memory of him saying something about Addy cutting his hair when he was little fluttered through my mind.
“I’m sure she would love to give it another go,” I said, looking up at his disheveled locks.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
The door rang just then, signaling the arrival of our first customer for the afternoon. Knowing Sam had a lot on his mind, I took the lead, greeting the elderly lady and offering any assistance. After ushering her to the small section of cookbooks, I found my way back to the front.
