“Don’t you worry about that.” Taffie garnered up her courage to speak. “Ryan and I are working on a plan, one we hope to share with you soon.”
“Before McKinley comes in here again?”
“Yes. Today at noon, to be precise. But Pop, promise me this.”
“What?”
“Don’t lose heart. And don’t worry. Carini’s is the best thing that ever happened to Atlantic City. Ask anyone.”
“Except the casino owners.”
Taffie turned to face her father. “No, that’s not true. Till now, they’ve all been on our side. And most still are. This is just one man, who happens to want our property so that he can build on it. The others will go on supporting us. And sending us customers. And promoting us. I know they will. And this fellow will, too. Eventually. Grandpa Gus’s dream of reaching out to people with God’s love will live on.”
Taffie’s father went to work at the stove, mixing up a batch of taffy. “I think I’m just tired, honey. Been at this a long, long time. And. . .”
“And what?”
He turned and sighed. “I know you have sugar running through your veins. More than your sisters, for sure. I can sense it. But you. . .”
What about me?
“Sometimes I feel like you’re just here out of obligation, and I feel guilty about that. Would you be off pursuing your dreams if I hadn’t bamboozled you into staying?”
“Pop.” Taffie took a seat. “You didn’t bamboozle me. I love the shop. I love candy making. It’s in my blood. I can’t speak for the other girls, but I love most everything about being here. Only one thing concerns me—the business stuff. The kind of things we’re dealing with today. But when it comes to the customers. . .” Taffie couldn’t help but smile. “When it comes to the customers, I’m in my element.”
“You are, at that.” He shrugged. “And honey, God has a plan for the rest of it. I know He does. One that does not involve selling out to a tight-fisted casino owner with an eye for someone else’s property.”
“Amen.” She whispered the word, feeling the truth of it all the way down to her bones. With the Lord’s help, they would get through this. Well, the Lord and one very handsome appliance repairman.
Ryan wrapped up a repair job at 11:40, then headed to the boardwalk to meet with Taffie and her parents. He was half tempted to call and check on his father. Pop had stayed home this morning, complaining of not feeling well. The first repair job had gone well without him, but Ryan was concerned. He’d have to remember to phone home after visiting with the Carinis. Right now, he had a thousand ideas for the candy shop, rolling around in his brain. He couldn’t seem to control them.
Minutes later, he stood inside of the candy store, the Carini family sitting in rapt awe as he spoke. “I’ve been giving this a lot of thought.” He paced the room, ready to lay out a plan of action; one he hoped would breathe new life into Carini’s Confections.
“Like what?” Mr. Carini sat on the edge of his seat. Ryan could read the anxiety in his expression.
“Well, as you’ve mentioned, your business does well during the summer. You’ve been trying to work double-time to increase summer sales so that you can lay low during the off-season.”
“Right.”
“What if the off-season didn’t have to be an off-season? What if you could bring in the same amount of money year-round?”
“I don’t know about that.” Taffie didn’t look convinced. “Remember, I told you we tried to keep the shop open through last year’s winter season without much luck.”
“Well, hear me out. I’ve been thinking you should work from holiday to holiday, drawing in customers with different products during different seasons. I asked my mom for some suggestions. She’s really good at this kind of thing.”
“Your mom?” Taffie smiled. “Keeping it in the family?”
“Of course!”
“What did you come up with?” Taffie’s mother asked.
“Well, think about it. It’s August now. Almost September. Most of our sunbathers have already headed back to school, back to work, and so forth. But fall is coming, and with the fall comes all sorts of possibilities.” Excitement grew as he laid out his ideas. “There are so many different types of candies—and coffees, for that matter—that make me think of fall. Think of what they serve at fall festivals. . .popcorn balls, caramel corn, candy apples, and so forth. You could decorate the window with fall colors and promote a new coffee flavor each month, something to draw in an older crowd. That’s what you need to get through the off-season, anyway—an older clientele.”
“Never thought of that,” Mrs. Carini said. “But you’re right. We count on the kids during the summer, but it never occurred to me that we could keep things going without them during the winter.”
“Well, speaking of winter. . .” Ryan smiled with anticipation. “Wait till you hear what I’m thinking of for the Christmas season. Along with coffees, you could serve wassail and hot apple cider. And you could put a huge Christmas tree in the window, decorated with the seasonal candies and cookies you’re featuring. My mom suggested old-fashioned ribbon candy, and some sort of homemade candy cane. Maybe a new flavor each Christmas. And think of the possibilities with the taffy. Focus on Christmas flavors—cinnamon and peppermint. You could drape the tree in garland made of wrapped taffies. . .or even the ribbon candy.”
“Wow, you have been thinking ahead.” Taffie’s face lit up in a smile. “What else were you thinking?”
“Well, if you really want to go with something different, why not chocolate fondue? You can provide all sorts of things for dipping—marshmallows, pretzels, dried fruits, cookies. And over in the coffee area” ─he gestured─ “why not sell Christmas-themed coffees and flavored hot chocolates? Keep it looking and sounding like grown-up fun. So what if the children don’t come? If you provide Internet access—and that’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, anyway—you will attract business people who are looking for a nice, quiet seaside setting where they can check e-mail, social media, work on projects, and so forth.”
“Internet.” Mr. Carini shook his head. “What is the world coming to. . .people coming to a candy store to work.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Ryan said. “They’ve got to work someplace. Why not let them take care of their business in a fun, safe environment, where you serve them themed sweets for every season? And speaking of which, I have so many ideas for Valentine’s Day. I’ve been thinking about all of the chocolates you could sell, and how we could promote them on the Web site. You know that Internet traffic is your best bet for surviving the coldest months.”
“Hmm. The website. . .” Taffie shook her head. “It needs a lot of work.”
“I know, but that’s Vic’s specialty. He’d be amazing at getting it up and running like a true marketplace. He could add a shopping-cart feature. He’s also great with getting the site into the bigger search engines, which would be helpful. Before long, if things go the way I think they will—the way I pray they will—you will be shipping candies all over the country, especially during Christmas and Valentine’s. So, if things slow down at the store, you’ll still be plenty busy shipping sweets all over the world!”
“Wow! You’re full of ideas.” Mrs. Carini gave him a confident look.
“What about this one?” He grinned. “It’s just something I’m rolling around in my head. Tangie is an actress, right? And a singer.”
“Right.”
“What if you offered singing valentines? People buy a box of chocolates and for an additional small fee, their loved one gets an impromptu visit from Tangie, dressed in tuxedo, white shirt, and red bow tie, crooning a love song?”
“Heavens! Great idea!” Mrs. Carini exclaimed. “I think she’ll love it.”
“If she can work it into her schedule,” Taffie added. “But she never passes up an opportunity to perform, so I think she’d like it.”
“And it will be a good way to put a little ca
sh in her pockets, too.” Ryan nodded, trying to remember what he’d left out. “But if it doesn’t work out for her to do it, why not Taffie? She’s got a great voice.”
“Who. . .me?” Taffie paled. “I can’t imagine. . .”
“Just think on it.” He shifted gears, unable to control his enthusiasm. “Oh, I wanted to tell you my ideas for Easter. Why not design a specialty Easter egg every year? Carini’s Easter egg. You could have an unveiling in your front window, kind of like the big department stores do at Christmas. Make it something the locals anticipate, especially the children.”
“I love window design,” Taffie said. “Sounds like fun. And I like the surprise element.”
“Me, too,” her mother echoed.
“What about Easter baskets, all made up with homemade goodies?” Ryan suggested. “Have you ever done that before?”
“No, to be honest, we usually don’t open the shop till mid-April, and Easter is already past. But I think it’s a good idea. Wish we’d thought of it sooner.”
“They could be shipped, as well. You could target folks who grew up in Atlantic City, but now live elsewhere. Give them a piece of their past in an Easter basket. That sort of thing.”
“Yes, and what about an Easter egg hunt for the kids?” Mrs. Carini threw in. “That might be fun. And maybe we could plan a special time where the kids could come and decorate their own candy eggs. If we promoted it, we could fill this place with children.”
“Yes, and I’ve been thinking about the building, itself,” Ryan moved from one area of the room to the next, taking in every square inch of it. “The colors in here need to be punched up a bit. That said, I think the different areas of the shop need to look vastly different. On the adult side” ─he pointed to the coffee area─ “you could do something really cool and sleek. On the kid’s side” ─he pointed to the candy counter and the ice cream area─ “play off of the colors of the taffy. Bright colors. Interesting designs. And give them something to do while they’re here. List on your menu or on the walls, the names of famous people who’ve eaten here. And what about candy trivia? People love that sort of thing. It would be conversational.”
“Ryan, you surprise me.” Tears sprang to Mrs. Carini’s eyes. “This is all so much to take in, but I know you’re right. We’ve just done things the way we’ve always done them. But it’s time to look ahead.”
“Oh, that reminds me. . .” He looked at the candy counter. “I notice you sell a few sugar-free items, but I think you’d draw a more adult crowd if you came up with a few more. And the packaging. . .”
“What about it?”
“Taffie and I were talking about this not long ago. When people come to Carini’s, you’re taking them on a journey back in time. So your packaging needs to have an old-fashioned vintage feel to it. Same with your website. I’ll talk to Vic about it, but I feel sure he can come up with something that’s just right.”
Taffie shook her head. “Ryan, you’re amazing.”
“I have a thousand other ideas,” he said with a shrug, “but I don’t want to overwhelm you. You can offer specialty candies for weddings, bridal showers, baby showers, that sort of thing. Promote yourselves to the hotels, even. They’re always hosting corporate events. And then there’s Veteran’s Day.”
“Veteran’s Day?” Mr. Carini looked at him in dazed curiosity.
“Sure. Why not pick a certain candy to sell for that month, and give a percentage of your proceeds to the Veteran’s Hospital? That way, the people wouldn’t just be eating candy—a personal pleasure—they would be giving back in some small way, as well.”
“Ryan, you are a wonder,” Mrs. Carini said. “But I have to say I’m absolutely exhausted, just listening to your ideas. My head is spinning.”
“I only wish I could do more.” He took a seat, wishing he could speak his heart. If he had his druthers, he’d quit the appliance repair business altogether and just help people with things like this. He’d─
Just then, his cell phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. Ryan glanced down, recognizing his pop’s number at once. He answered to discover another repair job awaited.
With a heavy heart, he turned away from the excitement of untapped dreams. . .and toward his more dismal reality.
SEVENTEEN
After leaving Carini’s, Ryan pointed his work van in the direction of Mama Mia’s Italian restaurant on the south end of town. Pop had mentioned a walk-in refrigerator in need of repair. Not a small job. And from what his father said, a complicated situation, one he couldn’t tackle alone, particularly since he wasn’t feeling well.
As Ryan contemplated what lay ahead, he felt the joy eke out of him, much like air out of a balloon. Working with Taffie and her parents on a plan of action had been exhilarating. But now. . .
Well, now he had to get back to the real world.
He arrived at the restaurant in short order and found his pop in a quieter-than-usual mood as they worked alongside each other. “I missed you this morning,” Ryan said after several minutes of silence from his father’s end. “Feeling better now?”
“Not really.” His pop gazed at him with tired eyes. “It’s times like this I truly don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Ryan drew in a deep breath to keep from saying anything he might later regret.
“Had a hard time sleeping last night,” Pop continued. “Just worn out today. And I woke up with a terrible headache, which isn’t helping any.”
“What’s up with that?”
The wrinkles in his father’s brow deepened. “I hate to admit it, but I’ve been worried about Vic and Mallory. Your mom told me they’re talking about separating again.” He rubbed at his brow, then shrugged.
“No way.” At once Ryan’s thoughts shifted to Casey. Poor little thing. Would she ever know the peace of mind that a solid parental relationship would bring?
“I don’t know what’s wrong with that brother of yours,” Pop said with a sigh. “I didn’t raise him to put his own needs above those of his family. Not sure where he came up with the idea that he’s the one who matters most. And why he’s turned his back on his faith. . .” Ryan’s father’s eyes misted over. “It’s beyond me. Surely he can see that God is the only one who has the answers to these sorts of problems.”
“I know Vic is going to come around. We can’t stop praying.” Ryan did his best to muster up a smile. “And I know you, Pop. You take the same fix-it mentality you use in the appliance business and apply it in other areas of your life. I’m the same way. But in this case, it’s truly between Vic and God. There’s nothing you can do but pray.”
“That’s why I couldn’t sleep last night,” his father explained. “Your mom was a little, well, weepy. I’m surprised you didn’t hear us from your room upstairs. We ended up having quite a prayer meeting.”
“Ah. No, I slept like a log. But I did notice your light was on before I headed up to bed. Sorry you woke up not feeling well, though.”
“Oh well. I’ll sleep better tonight.”
They went back to work, finally locating the source of the problem. “We’re going to have to come back tomorrow to wrap this up,” Ryan said. “I’ll stop by and pick up the parts we need. What time tomorrow morning, Pop?”
“I guess. . .” His father tried to stand, but stumbled. He reached for his right leg, shaking it. “S–strange. Must’ve f–fallen asleep.” Finally aright, he seemed to falter.
“Pop?” Ryan looked his way, alarmed. “You okay?”
“W–what? I. . .I. . .” His dad looked dazed, disoriented. “I’d better s–sit down a m–minute. Stood up too f–fast or something. M–mighty dizzy.”
Ryan’s heart leaped into his throat as he guided his father to a chair. Something was up, for sure, and it was more than a simple case of exhaustion or a headache.
“Pop, I think it’d better. . .” He never got to say the words call 9-1-1 before his father slumped over in the chair. Ryan reached out to grab him before he slid t
o the floor. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. “Pop? Pop!” When no response came, Ryan called out to the restaurant manager, who appeared in a flash. The fellow took one look and went into a panic. Ryan thrust the cell phone into the man’s hand, stammered, “Call 9-1-1!” then promptly began to pray. “Oh, God. . .please help my father!”
Taffie waited till the crowd cleared at the end of the afternoon to pick up her cell phone to call Ryan. She could hardly wait to thank him for his kindness earlier in the day. Oh, and what amazing ideas he’d had! She and her parents had already talked through many of them, coming up with a plan.
She punched in his number and waited in anticipation to hear his voice on the other end of the line. When his voice mail kicked in, she sighed. Oh well. A message was better than nothing.
“Hey, Ryan. Just wanted to say thanks for all of your suggestions today. You’ve definitely put the rainbow back up in the cloudy sky for my parents. And I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am. And how hopeful. I, um. . .I’m so happy God brought you into our lives.” She glanced at the clock, then continued. “Listen, I’m going to be in class after I leave here, but I’ll be done around nine. Give me a call tonight, if you can. When McKinley shows back up with his client I want to be fully prepared to explain our plan of action. In fact, I’d feel better if you were here with us when they came. If you don’t mind, I mean.”
She paused a moment, wondering if there was enough recording time left to sneak in a final phrase or two. “Have I told you how much I appreciate you? I. . .I think you’re great. And I—” A beep suddenly ended the call and she hung up, feeling like a giddy schoolgirl as she thought through what she might’ve said: I think you’re the best thing since Rocky Road. I think you put the dream in Dreamsicle. I think I could write a song right here and now, and dance around the room, making up my own choreography as I go along.
After a deep, heartfelt sigh, she went back to work. A few minutes later, as she closed up the shop, her mother approached. “You’re singing again.”
Boardwalk Brides Page 11
