by J J Knight
Now, all that’s left for us is to live this dream, pickles and all.
32
Magnolia
I hold Anthony’s hand as we follow Dad, Havannah, and the real estate agent into the old Salad Junction I used to go to as a kid. The long-time owners decided to retire, and when their lease ran out last month, it went on the market.
Dad found it first. He called Kirsty and asked if we could see it before it was stripped. He wanted to get an idea of how many tables it could hold, where a sandwich line might go, and how much kitchen space it had.
Kirsty unlocks the front door. The tables are still inside, chairs stacked on top. Dad takes one down and examines it. “Is Jenkins willing to sell us these?” he asks.
The stout woman adjusts her bag on her shoulder. “I can check. I’d imagine so.”
“They’re good,” Dad says to Havannah. “That’s a big cost we could delay if we can get a good deal.”
She nods.
The self-serve salad bar sits along the side wall. It’s a good indication of how much space we’d have for the sandwich line. It’s plenty.
“The drink station was back over here,” Dad says. “It’s been a while since I was in here, but I remember that.”
I nod. “Definitely. And they had a small register set up by the door.” I point to a discolored square on the floor.
We wander the space. Anthony stays quiet. In the back left corner is a short hall with a pair of bathrooms and a storage closet. It doesn’t link to the kitchen, but Dad taps the wall. “This could come out. It’s easier if we can come through this way as well as near the line.”
Our group moves to the kitchen.
“It’s smaller than the Tasty Pepper,” Havannah says.
The sinks are on the back wall, which is unfortunate, but workable.
“It was a salad place, so there’s plenty of cutting counters but not enough stove.” Dad pulls a measuring tape from his pocket and sizes up the space next to the existing stove. “We’ll need ovens for bread baking.”
Anthony finally speaks up. “You could always bake at one location and deliver, at least at first. We had to do that for a while in New York.”
Dad glances up at Anthony, as if surprised he has an opinion. “That’s a fact. Keep costs low at first. Use what we’ve got. Spare you the early crew too. Keep labor down.”
I smile at Anthony. He squeezes my hand.
Dad puts his hands on his hips and looks around. “Is there an office?”
“Over here.” Kirsty leads us to a door in the corner. It opens to a large space.
“That’s bigger than Dad’s,” Havannah says with a giggle.
“Harrumph,” Dad says, but he’s smiling.
We wander back to the dining room.
“I hate the colors,” Havannah says. “It will need a paint job and a new floor.”
“You’d have to do that anywhere you went,” Kirsty says. “But this one is in the area of town you liked best.”
She’s right about that. Dad and I poured over maps, triangulating the existing competition and looking for spaces where younger clients would find us.
“There’s plenty of parking,” Kirsty adds. “That’s not easy in this neighborhood.”
Havannah sets her bag on one of the tables and rubs her belly. She’s growing fast now that the second trimester is well underway. We’re hoping to open before she delivers, since she has the most opinions on how the new branch should look.
“Why am I always hungry?” she asks.
“You’ve got a healthy Boudreaux in there,” Dad says. “I can run down the street to the take-out Chinese place if you need.”
Havannah waves him off. “I’ve got snacks. I’m not crazy.” She pulls out a plastic bag filled with slices of mango.
I shake my head. “Our fridge is full of mango,” I tell Anthony. “I swear it’s the only thing she eats.”
“Tell the baby,” Havannah says. “The kid wants what the kid wants.” She shoves a slice in her mouth, perhaps a little less gracefully than she would have before.
Kirsty approaches. “There’s the other property to see. It’s only a mile from here. A tad smaller, but it might have more ovens.”
Havannah glances around. The tall windows in the front shine bright winter sun onto the interior. “No. This is good. Lots of light. Already painted white so it’s easy to cover it in color.” She holds out her hand. “I see pale blue and sherbert orange.”
“It’s the mango talking,” I say.
“It’s on the color wheel,” she says. “Trust me. Paint a wavy line along the wall, about a third of the way up. It will be perfect.” She has that look in her eye when she’s envisioning something great.
I don’t have that look. I only know the numbers on the page.
“It’s in our price range. And we can lock-in three years,” I say.
“Let’s do it,” Havannah says.
“Excellent,” Kirsty says. “I’ll have the paperwork drawn up.”
Dad rubs his hands together. “The Tasty Pepper Two. It’s a big step.”
“Mmmm. No,” Havannah interjects. “The Tasty Pepper Two sounds gross.”
“What are you going to call it then?” Dad asks.
I glance over at Anthony, who shrugs. “Don’t look at me. We’re terribly unoriginal with Boulder Pickle, Austin Pickle, and L.A. Pickle.”
“It should be something else tasty,” Havannah says. “Tasty Sandwich. Tasty Bread. Tasty Relish.”
She bites into her slice of mango.
The three of us think of it at the same time.
“The Tasty Mango!”
Havannah dissolves into laughter.
“Isn’t that a little racy?” Dad asks. “Mangos are another name for, you know…” He holds his hands out in front of his chest.
“Dad! Stop it!” Havannah laughs so hard, I worry she’s going to pee herself.
It’s happened. Don’t ask how I know.
“I think it’s perfect,” Anthony says. “You’re going for the young market. They’ll think it’s a great joke.”
“And it’s all about baby Boudreaux,” Havannah says, resting her hand on her belly. “We’ll definitely use the mango craving as the reason in interviews.”
Dad nods. “You have time to decide. Let’s get back to the deli.” He shakes hands with Kirsty. “Let me know when you’re ready for us to go over the lease.”
“Will do!” Kirsty says.
We follow her out onto the pavement. While she locks the door, I stare up at the old Salad Junction sign. Soon, this place will be ours.
Anthony wraps his arms around me. “It’s a great choice. And I’m happy to loan you bread baking space if you need it, at least until you can afford new ovens. I’m closer than your other branch.”
I kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
He lifts my hand to press his lips on the back. It’s bare. Since the publicity has died down, I haven’t felt the need to wear the fake engagement ring anymore. Deli business is up. We introduce new dishes on their own merits.
Online sales are thriving. We haven’t hit another viral pickle like the ghost pepper, and TikTok is on a feta cheese craze at the moment.
But we’re good. Happy. And soon, the dream I started when I walked onto Milton Creed’s show will be a reality.
And it’s all thanks to a man I love, and his very spicy pickle.
Thank you all for cheering us on.
Epilogue: Anthony
I’m in charge of the giant scissors, and I’ve lost them.
Magnolia looks up from her spot near the prep counter as I move boxes around. The kitchen of the Tasty Mango is in chaos. All the employees are new except for Dan, and nobody’s figured out where to store everything, especially on opening day. I shove aside a crate of potatoes.
Nothing.
“What’s up, Anthony?” Magnolia asks.
I can’t tell her I’ve lost the giant scissors. I made such a big deal about them.
The ribbon on the door has to be cut with fanfare, not ordinary kitchen shears. I went to great trouble to locate the pair used on all three of the Pickle brothers’ deli openings.
And now they’re missing.
Magnolia’s dad enters the kitchen. “We’re all ready in the dining room. The sandwich line is set up. The crew is in place. We just need you girls to cut the ribbon.”
Damn it. I slide another box aside. They were here yesterday.
“Is there anybody here to document it?” Magnolia asks.
Havannah breezes into the room, her impressive belly preceding her. “Hell yes, there is. Everybody wants to follow up on the deli love story of the century!” She spots me trying to casually shift a box with my foot. “Anthony, what are you doing?”
“There’s a lot of boxes in here,” I say, hoping to deflect.
She looks around. “I think we’ll need another shelving unit,” she says. “The stock closet isn’t big enough.” She kicks aside a box herself. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s open this place!”
Both women head for the door in their matching mango aprons. Their dad starts to follow, then hesitates. “You’ve lost the scissors, haven’t you?”
Damn it. “Yes.”
He laughs. “I think a butcher knife works fine, don’t you? Fits the theme.”
He’s right. I grab a large one off the knife block and take it with me.
When I make it to the dining room, Magnolia and Havannah stand near the windows looking out onto the parking lot, along with their mother and Grandmama. There’s a good-sized crowd outside, including one news crew and several photographers.
I sidle next to her. She glances at my knife. “I thought you wanted the scissors.”
I shrug. “I’m flexible.”
She’s about to take the knife when my family friend, Dell Brandt, turns around from where he’s been watching the crowd.
And he’s holding the scissors!
“Oh, there they are,” Magnolia says. “You’re so weird, Anthony Pickle.”
I glance down at the knife. Maybe I am.
Dell and his younger brother, Donovan, stride closer. My dad sent them down to coach Magnolia and Havannah about best practices for opening a new business. It’s the same series of lectures and planning sessions each of us brothers got when we opened ours.
Donovan’s eyes alight on Havannah, and not for the first time. She’s riotously happy, frequently doing a little boogie-woogie step and swaying her belly back and forth.
I slide the knife behind the sandwich counter. A fresh-faced teen flashes me a nervous smile. It’s his first job. He’s excited.
“Shall we?” Magnolia asks.
Donovan rushes to open the door for Havannah. Our entire party steps outside. An ornamental ribbon is set up across the porch between us and the bystanders. Most of us move off to the side as Havannah and Magnolia stand behind the center of the ribbon.
“Thank you all for coming!” Havannah says, the wind whipping her long blond hair. “We are so excited to cut the ribbon to open the doors to the new Boudreaux family deli—the Tasty Mango!” Her fist shoots into the air.
Her excitement is infectious and the crowd whoops.
“My sister and I grew up in our family deli across town, and we’re so happy to strike out on our own. We couldn’t have done it without our parents!” She gestures to her mom and dad. “We have the amazing Dell Brandt and Donovan McDonald here giving us advice.” More applause.
“And of course, none of this would have been possible without your support of the new online store created by our culinary couple, my sister, Magnolia, and her fiancé Anthony Pickle!”
Magnolia waves to the crowd, then turns and gestures for me to join her. I walk over and press a quick kiss on her lips. The crowd whoops and flashes pop.
It’s been a while since we were photographed.
Our relationship behind the scenes has gone perfectly the last six months. We planned the new store, mostly implementing Havannah’s ideas. She’s full of them.
Magnolia has expanded her culinary skills, since she’ll be expected to do more kitchen work and not just the books. Dell Brandt recommended a financial person for them so they could focus on running logistics, at least until they could afford a manager.
Since we’ve mostly retired from public scrutiny, Magnolia rarely wears the engagement ring I bought. But she has it on today. It winks in the sun, and for the thousandth time, I wish I’d given her Mom’s ring from the get-go. I can’t undo it.
“Scissors?” Havannah calls and turns to Dell, who still holds them.
Donovan jerks them from his brother’s hands so he can walk them over to her. He’s got stars in his eyes for Havannah. That’s plain to see.
He passes them to her. She hasn’t seemed to notice his attention. It’s a big day.
Havannah and Magnolia wrangle the scissors into place. They cleanly snip the ribbon and it falls. We step aside to let the bystanders into the deli.
It’s done.
When everyone has made their way inside, Magnolia hangs back. She grasps my hand. “Hey,” she says.
The sun is warm. It’s late spring and the weather in Boulder is fine. I shift her long blond hair over her shoulder. “What’s up?”
She pulls me in front of the doors. No one’s paying any attention to us, all waiting in line for the new mango-inspired line of relishes and salads Havannah has added to the traditional menu.
It’s just us.
She takes my hand. “You remember when you gave me this?”
She slides the chain out of her cleavage.
“I do—” I halt abruptly when I see the chain no longer holds the ring.
The hand holding mine shifts, and she passes something to me. I glance down. It’s Mom’s ring.
She’s giving it back? My heart falls. With the new deli open, is she ready to move on?
But her eyes say something different.
“Anthony Pickle,” she says, “In the event that your deli hits hard times, I have the means to support us.” Her eyes are soft and shine in the morning light. “I will make sure you never want for anything. Will you marry me?”
What? She’s proposing?
I couldn’t smile any wider. “Yes. Yes, I will!”
She shifts the old engagement ring to her right hand so that I can place Mom’s in its proper place.
I pull her close. “Now, that’s some initiative, my love,” I tell her.
“You were taking too long,” she says, grinning up at me. “And besides, you’ve proposed to me before, not to mention that other woman.”
When I frown, she presses her thumb to my lips. “I wanted something new for us both. A first.” Her blue eyes watch me with wonder, as if I’m the best thing she’s ever seen.
That’s definitely how I feel about her.
“It’s perfect,” I say. “And the perfect day. The first day of your deli. The first day of our real engagement. We’ll never forget it.”
I lean down to kiss her. The sun beams down on us, bright and warm. The happy sounds of new customers filter from inside.
I think that maybe it could never get better than this, but then I remember—I get Magnolia from this day forward, as long as we both shall live.
And I know plenty more perfect days lie ahead.
We break the kiss and are simply smiling at each other when the front door bursts open.
It’s Havannah, her face bright red. Her dad is on one arm, and Donovan of all people, is on the other.
“Baby on the way!” she calls out.
Her mother follows close behind. “I told you this was too much excitement so close to your due date.”
We step aside. “Are you guys okay?” Magnolia asks.
Havannah shouts, “Magnolia, stop mugging in front of the store and get in there to run the deli. I’m having a baby!”
I squeeze Magnolia’s hand. “I thought she wasn’t due yet.”
“Babies come wh
en babies come,” Magnolia says. “I was hoping to be with her.” Her head tilts. “If this baby is early, could it be the doctors were wrong about her conception date?”
“I don’t know anything about babies,” I say.
We watch as they load Havannah into an SUV. Donovan backs away as the car takes off, John Paul at the wheel, her mom in the back with Havannah.
We wait while Donovan watches them leave, rubbing his head with his hand, then slowly turns to the front door.
“You okay?” I ask him.
“Sure. I guess she’ll be all right, right?” His face is tight with concern.
Magnolia threads her arm through his. “Sure, she will. We can go see her later if you like. Want something to eat?”
He glances back at the retreating car and nods.
I open the door. Grandmama monitors the sandwich prep, making sure the new hires get the classic Boudreaux sandwiches right. Magnolia snags an apron from a hook and tosses it to me. “Make yourself useful, Pickle Boy,” she says. “You’re a Boudreaux now.”
I tie on the mango apron. “But it doesn’t go with my complexion!”
She shakes her head and pulls me behind the line. I guess I’m working here today. It’s a good thing my own deli is in good shape with a full crew.
Because until Havannah’s back in top form, it looks like I will be spending a lot of time at my deli’s newest competitor, the Tasty Mango.
And I will love every minute of it.
Thank you for reading Spicy Pickle! I’m sure you can guess what book is coming next — TASTY MANGO!
Watch Havannah messily try to balance life with a new baby and a hot new relationship with one of Wall Street’s rising stars — billionaire Donovan McDonald. Sign up here to be notified when it comes out!
While you wait, meet Dell and Donovan’s family with Dell’s billionaire romance Single Dad on Top. And don’t forget to catch up on the Pickle family with Jason in Big Pickle and Max in Hot Pickle.
Ghost Pepper Pickle Recipe and TikTok Challenge