by Addison Cole
At around noon, Matt walked into his father’s hardware store, and the sound of Mira’s voice brought a smile to his lips.
“It’ll pay for itself in productivity time alone,” Mira said as she came out of the back room.
His father grumbled something Matt couldn’t make out.
“Matt,” his father and Mira said in unison.
Matt kissed Mira’s cheek. “Hi, sunshine. I thought I’d treat you to lunch. That is, if my father can spare you.”
“You’re in town for a few days and you already scooped up the prettiest single woman around?” His father embraced him. “And here I thought you came to visit me.”
“I want to visit with you, too, Pop. How about if I come by the house after you close tonight?” He wanted to see Mira this evening, too, but as much as he’d like to insert himself into her life, he didn’t want to smother her.
“Sounds good to me,” his father answered. “We close at seven.”
“I know. I’ll come by around seven thirty. I take it you don’t mind if I treat Mira to lunch?”
“It’s about time you took this young lady out on a proper date. All those willy-nilly visits were driving me crazy.” His father smiled. “Please, get her out of here. She’s talking nonsense anyway.”
Mira shook her head and grabbed her purse from beneath the counter. “You are a stubborn man, Neil Lacroux.”
“You sound like my late wife,” his father said.
No wonder I like her so much. Matt took Mira’s hand. “No more willy-nilly, Pop. You’ve got my word.”
“For the next three months, anyway,” his father grumbled.
Not for the first time since he’d accepted the book deal and taken the sabbatical, the thought of getting close to Mira and then leaving again made Matt’s gut knot up. When Mira had texted him earlier, they’d made plans to take Hagen shopping for his camping trip Wednesday evening, and he was even looking forward to doing that.
“Get out of here.” Neil waved them toward the door. “Maybe she can convince you it’s time to come home for good.”
Matt’s father had always supported his love of academics, and he knew he was just busting his chops now, though he knew how badly his father missed him and how much he wished one of his children would take over the store.
Matt held the door open for Mira. “I thought we’d go to the Sunbird Café.”
Once they stepped outside, he gathered her in his arms and kissed her properly—slow and deep, with all the emotions that had been building up since the last time they’d kissed.
“Wow,” she said breathlessly. “Will I ever get used to those kisses?”
“Not if I can help it.” He took in her jade-green tank dress, which set off the green flecks in her eyes and fit snugly across her hips and breasts. “You look gorgeous, baby. I bet tons of guys come into the store just to get an eyeful of you.”
“I wish.” She laughed.
“Hey,” he teased as they walked up the street toward the main road.
“I don’t mean it like that. But more customers would be a good thing. Most of the people who come in these days only come in to chat with your dad. They love the familiarity and the feel of the family-owned shop, but if I had a dollar for everyone who came in and asked a hundred questions only to then say, ‘Thanks for your help. I’ll get it when I go into Hyannis to the Home Depot. Gotta watch my pennies!’ I’d be rich.”
They turned onto the main road and headed toward the café.
“You mentioned the other night that it was hard to compete. What’s the problem? The cost of inventory?” His father had bought the building more than thirty years ago, and he knew he no longer carried a mortgage on the property.
She nodded. “The big chain stores get volume discounts that we just can’t compete with, and people can usually get what they want online for around the same price. We have very little online presence, and unfortunately, we also need to update our inventory and accounting system to save on administrative time. We spend countless hours doing inventory when we could put that time into something else, like customer outreach. I know the cost of advertising is prohibitive, but we need it to stay in people’s minds as more than a store an old friend owns.”
As they made their way into the eclectic café, Mira described the challenges his father’s store was facing, and Matt realized they were some of the very issues he was writing about. They ordered at the counter and found a quiet table by the windows.
“I won’t bore you with all the details, but the book I’m writing focuses on the economic impact the Internet and societal changes have on small businesses. It’s much deeper than that, of course, looking at the effect the changes have on familial and employer-employee dynamics, and other psychological aspects and how they trickle down and impact future economics. But my father’s business is a prime example.”
She speared a forkful of lettuce from her salad and said, “It’s fixable.”
“You’ve been thinking about it?” Of course she had. She was brilliant.
“A lot, actually. I love working for your father, and I’ve gotten to know the community through working with him. Working there has become a big part of my life. I know that sounds silly, but there’s something wonderful about helping a pregnant woman to baby proof her house, and then a few months later, to help her get what she needs to put together a baby gate. And when the elementary school had their annual go-cart-building contest, all the dads and their kids came in for supplies. Half of them didn’t buy them there, but they came in to show us what they were building because the fathers knew your dad when they were building their own go-carts twenty years ago.”
“I remember building mine with my father.” Matt smiled with the memory. “My father really got into those things. He’s aware, then, of the trouble the business is in?”
“Yes, but he’s in denial. I know all those valued customers would love to see him compete with the bigger stores. Nobody wants to drive thirty or forty minutes to get hardware. And if his business goes under…”
“You’ll need to start over.” It was hard enough for a single mother to make ends meet, but the thought of her finding another place to work that allowed her the hours and flexibility she needed to work around Hagen’s schedule had to be stressful.
“Yes, but also, your dad takes so much pride in the business, and Pete told me about his drinking after you lost your mother.”
“That was a difficult time for all of us,” Matt said solemnly. “Luckily Pete was here to get him help.”
“Yes. Then you understand why I’m thinking about all of this. It’s one thing to retire and sell a business, but to retire because the business failed? After all these years?” Her eyes glassed over and she looked away. “I can’t even allow myself to think about it, or how it might set him back. Your father is such a proud man.”
She squinted, making those cute freckles across her nose dance. “Oh gosh. Do you think he would mind me talking about this? I just realized he might not want me to share it with anyone.”
He reached across the table and held her hand. His father was a proud man, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t want any of them knowing the business was in trouble. But that was an even bigger reason for Matt to know what was going on, so he could try to help.
“I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, so don’t tell me anything specific about the company finances. But I’d love to hear your thoughts on how to fix the issues.”
Maybe together they could figure out how to save his father’s business and save the job Mira loved.
Chapter Ten
MIRA HAD BEEN working on the idea of an East Coast co-op for small businesses similar to Lacroux Hardware for months. Talking to someone who understood finances and economics, and how co-ops functioned, was beyond fulfilling. Accounting and economics weren’t exactly exciting subjects, but Matt listened intently and seemed not only impressed with her ideas, but he had solid suggestions that made financial
sense.
After lunch they held hands on the way back to the store. Mira was on a high, not only from Matt’s surprise visit, but from their stimulating conversation and the way he was looking at her, like everything she said was important.
“I’ve already compiled a list of a dozen businesses, complete with the owners’ contact information and a few other important details. I’ve also structured a business plan and done some research on central warehouse locations,” she explained. “I know it’s jumping the gun, especially since your dad isn’t exactly receptive to the idea. But this is what I went to school for. It’s a solid plan, Matt. I’ve researched similar co-ops, and if we could get buy-in from five or six companies we could make our initial investment back within two years. From then on out, he’d be making a profit.”
He stopped walking and placed his hands on her hips. “It is a very well thought out plan, and you’re clearly passionate about wanting it to work. Maybe I can persuade him to at least talk about it.”
“Really? He’s put his heart and soul into that business. He tells me stories about your mom coming into the store with you guys when you were little and I feel like those memories are alive in the store. When he talks about Hunter following him down the aisles when he was just a boy, or you sitting behind the counter reading for hours when you were growing up—which reminds me of Hagen, by the way—I can practically see it all playing out.”
He folded his arms around her and pressed his lips to hers. Mm. She wanted to stay right there for the rest of the day.
“Me too, sunshine. Just hearing about it makes me happy.”
“Did you know that I occasionally bring Hagen to work with me? Not often, but sometimes when he has a day off from school, your dad will suggest that I bring him in, and Hagen will spend the whole day following him around. They take inventory together, and your dad tells him what certain tools are for. It’s nice for all of us. He’s like a surrogate grandfather, and selfishly, I don’t want Hagen to lose that connection.”
“You’ve made a world of difference in my father’s life. We’ve all noticed it. He’s happier than he’s been in years, despite his not wanting to talk about making changes to the business. That’s our fault, not yours. He wants the business to stay in the family.” He kissed her again. “Nobody wants to see you lose that connection. Maybe together we can make sure neither of you will ever have to.”
He glanced over her shoulder, and his brows drew together. His entire body seemed to stand at attention. “Call nine-one-one.”
He ran across the street. Mira dug out her phone and hurried across the street to where Matt was crouched beside a woman who was lying on the ground, her body convulsing uncontrollably. Spittle gathered in her mouth. Matt carefully rolled her onto her side and placed one hand behind her back, the other beneath her face to protect it from the concrete. Mira’s pulse was racing, fear and empathy consuming her.
“Nine-one-one, Mira, please. She’s having a seizure.”
Mira nervously placed the call as Matt calmly and carefully took care of the woman. The woman lost control of her bladder, and Matt continued protecting her head and keeping her on her side, explaining to Mira that he was keeping her from choking. Despite the crowd gathering around them, Matt was completely focused on the woman lying on the sidewalk, her body still jerking violently.
“She’s okay,” he said to no one in particular, his eyes never leaving the woman. “She’s having a seizure.”
What seemed like an hour later, but in reality was probably thirty seconds, the woman’s body stilled, and Matt brushed her hair from her cheeks, keeping her on her side. “She’s okay,” he said, breathing deeply. “She’s in the postictal phase. Nothing to be afraid of. It’s just a deep sleep. She’ll be out of it soon.” He shrugged off his shirt and placed it over her wet pants.
Sirens neared, and Matt glanced up at Mira. His serious dark eyes brightened a little as a small smile curved his lips. “Good job, sunshine. There isn’t much you can do when this happens but make sure the person doesn’t choke and keep them from harming themselves.”
As the woman came to, Matt held her, talking softly, reassuring her with kind words and complete and total focus. Once the ambulance arrived, he explained what had happened, and Mira heard him say he didn’t notice a medical alert bracelet or necklace. She wouldn’t have even thought to look for one. In fact, she’d have had no idea what to do, while it seemed second nature to Matt. He had reacted instantly and wasn’t the least bit frazzled.
He came to her side and tucked her beneath his arm. “You’re shaking.” He turned her toward him and held her against his bare chest. “It’s okay. Seizures can be frightening for everyone.”
“How did you know what to do?” She was shaking like a leaf, and felt ridiculous because she wasn’t the woman who had experienced the seizure or the man who’d helped her. But the scene had been terrifying. What if Matt hadn’t been there? What if the woman had choked, or cracked her skull on the sidewalk during her seizure?
“I’ve taken basic lifesaving courses.” He placed his hands on her cheeks and searched her eyes. “You should sit down for a minute.”
He was a pillar of strength, a caring, generous man with a heart of gold that extended well beyond her and Hagen. And even if only for a few months, she was so glad he was hers.
MATT ARRIVED AT his childhood home at seven thirty on the dot with all the fixings for a grilled steak dinner, his father’s favorite, and, he hoped, a solid distraction for himself. He drew in a deep breath as he mounted the porch steps and entered the house. The worn wooden floors creaked beneath the area rug in the entranceway.
Even though his mother had been gone for several years, he still expected to hear her call out, “Matty? Is that you, honey?” He still expected to see his father pull her into a quick kiss as she walked by his favorite recliner, where he’d be working his way through a crossword puzzle.
He still expected the life he had grown up with, the life he had counted on, to be intact.
“Matty?” his father called out, and just like that Matt’s mind shifted to the present.
Mom’s gone. Dad’s not drunk.
I’m home.
“Right here, Pop. I brought dinner.”
His father stepped out from the den down the hall with his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose and a crossword puzzle in hand. A welcome sight after his bout with alcohol. His father looked good. He’d long ago lost the belly he’d developed from drinking, and though he had a little more silver in his brown hair, he looked healthy.
“Bring it into the kitchen.” He motioned to Matt to follow him.
Matt paused when he passed his mother’s sewing room. He still had memories of her glancing up from behind her sewing machine, a warm smile always in place. You should learn to sew, Matty. You never know when you’ll need to fix something. Matt never needed to be offered the chance to learn more than once. He’d taken her up on it, and by the time he was twelve he could sew better than most moms in the neighborhood. The familiar ache of missing her filled his chest. He cleared his throat to push the emotions back down and followed his father into the kitchen.
“I figured we’d grill out back.” He began unpacking the bag and his father pulled out the cutting board and meat tenderizer. Or, as his father called it, the take-your-frustrations-out-on-the-steak mallet.
“I knew you would. The grill is ready.” His father unwrapped the steak and used the mallet to tenderize it as Matt prepared a salad. “So you finally came to your senses with Mira?”
“It was never a matter of coming to my senses. She’s a single mom. I couldn’t exactly go out with her for a day here and there. That wouldn’t have been fair to her or Hagen.” He pushed the bowl of salad to the side and leaned against the counter. “I’ve got three months.”
“And then?”
“And then I’ll figure it out.” They worked in silence for a few minutes. Matt sliced potatoes, thick, the way his father li
ked them, brushed them with olive oil and seasonings, and laid them on aluminum foil, then he brought the sides of the foil together, leaving air around the potatoes, like a shiny sack, and folded them together. He put them in the oven and headed outside to grill.
“How’s the boat coming along?” Matt asked after they set the steaks on the grill and settled into the chairs on the deck. He and Pete were refinishing a sailboat. His father had taught Pete to refinish boats when he was just a boy, the same way he’d helped each of his five children find their niche. There was always an endless supply of books available for Matt, and trips to the library that were like trips to the candy store for other kids. He’d taught Grayson and Hunter to work with metal, and he’d turned a shed into an art studio for Sky. Now, as he listened to his father tell him about the work he and Pete were doing on the boat, he realized he wanted to do those things for his own children. These thoughts didn’t surprise him, as he’d been thinking about family more and more over the past year or two. But the yearning was stronger now. And he wanted to do those things with Hagen.
“We’ll probably finish it up in a month or so,” his father said.
Thinking of Hagen, Matt said, “Hagen wants to build a boat, and I told him we’d start with a raft. Would you like to build it with us? I could sure use your help.”
His father’s eyes narrowed and his lips curved up in a smile that told Matt he knew what he was up to. “You don’t need help with anything. You could build a raft when you were thirteen without anyone’s help.”
Matt laughed and got up to flip the steaks. “Fine, you got me. I miss you. I want to build a raft with Hagen, and I want to spend time with you. Is that a crime?”
His dad joined him by the grill. “I’d like that, Matty. That boy is sharp as a tack, isn’t he?”
“He is. We built a robot last weekend.”
“I know. Mira told me. That’s where the boy gets his smarts, you know. She’s a bright woman. Pushy as can be, but—” He laughed and patted Matt on the back. “You know I like that in a person.”