by Jean Oram
“Okay,” Mandy said, ushering Beth to the door. “Thanks so much for stopping in. I’ll be opening in a month.”
Beth stopped at the door, not allowing Mandy to push her out. “Actually, I have a package for Ethan and your mom said he was here.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Mandy stepped back and gestured toward the kitchen area. “He’s through the doors making up snack bags for Jen. Go ahead in. You’ll know him by his lighthouse grin.”
Not only had her brother’s surgery gone well, giving him fairly reliable arm movement without pain, but he was finally--finally!--smiling again. His physiotherapist had said he needed to get out and moving and with a big thanks to Jen’s need of meals for hikers, he was. Plus, he was even considering Beth’s outreach rehab program that she ran from the local hospital. It was all finally lining up for him.
Mandy returned to the couch and her to-do list.
The front door creaked open again and Mandy sighed. The “Opening Soon” signs on the windows may as well have said, “Come on in and snoop around!”
“We’re not open yet,” she called, wishing she could afford to crank the heat. The chill of the rainy day was seeping into her tired bones.
“Not even for some free burnt bread?” Frankie asked with a grin.
“Ha-ha.” Mandy rolled her eyes and tried to take the joke lightly--the stupid ovens that had finally arrived two days ago hadn’t been calibrated correctly and had burned her test batch. And of course, the townsfolk, smelling the fresh bread, had come waltzing in and then laughed. And teased. And laughed.
Her phone rang and seeing it was her mother, she sent the call to voicemail. The last thing she needed today was a guilt trip from her mother about how she never stopped by to watch TV with her anymore.
“Your mom?” Frankie asked.
Mandy nodded and sighed, running her fingers through her tangled ponytail.
“I brought you some lunch.” He passed her a Styrofoam container. “I’m guessing you haven’t eaten.”
“Thanks.” At least one person was still treating her normally and trying to be understanding about the hours she needed to put in.
“So?” Frankie asked, plunking onto the couch beside her. He coughed and waved away the dusty air. “This couch smells like sardines.”
“I know.” She slurped her cream of potato soup. Man, that was good. Sometimes Benny made the world feel right again with his cream-based soups.
“Are you worried?” he asked.
She paused, her shoulders tightening. “No,” she said, keeping her head down. Maybe if she said it enough times, it would become true.
“Maybe you could forget about Wrap It Up and open this place as your own?”
“Frankie,” Mandy sighed, irritated. “I signed a contract.”
“I know, but--” Frankie shifted “--what if things with Seth get worse and it all goes down and he takes you with him? The chain is crumbling and you’re diving in. Plus, you’re working just as hard as if you were doing this all on your own and without the help of a franchise.”
She kept her head down as she spooned the last drop of soup into her mouth. It was a guaranteed loss if she backed out now--and he knew it.
“It’s wearing you down,” he said, staring at her makeup-free face.
“Thanks for lunch,” she said, standing. She brushed her bangs out of her face and walked him to the door. Rain fell in sheets against the roof and front windows, making the building sound as though it was being run through a car wash.
“Mandy, I think you need to cut your losses.”
“Take a look around!” Mandy swept her arm around the building, which was buzzing with, well, pretty much nothing but half-done jobs. “Don’t you think it’s a little late for that? And I’m not quitting.”
“You could make this place your own,” he repeated.
“It is mine. Maybe you shouldn’t have put your building up as collateral if you weren’t down with it housing a Wrap it Up.”
They stood facing each other, hands on their hips. He held her challenging gaze before giving his head a short shake as he turned to leave.
“Don’t walk out on me, Frankie! You’re in this, too!”
He paused in the doorway, rain sprinkling the shoulders of his leather jacket. “Maybe I was wrong to push you into this.”
“You don’t believe in me?” Her heart dropped. She’d always counted on him. What did she have if she didn’t have him?
“I still do, but I miss you. You’re always stressed out and it’s not healthy.”
“It’s called starting a business.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I care about you.”
“Frankie, just…” She waved her hands in frustration. “Quit breathing down my neck. I’m doing the best I can. Just…go follow your own dreams or something. Then you’ll see how incredibly hard it is.”
She sat down in an exhausted heap as he nodded resolutely, silently closing the door behind him. Her shoulders sagged as she fought a flood of desperate tears. She gave them a determined swipe as Beth and Ethan came into the room, laughing and smiling like everything was perfect in their happy little small town lives.
With the phone stuck to her ear, Mandy repeatedly pointed at the cucumber that needed slicing for Jen’s sandwiches. But it didn’t matter how many times she pointed to them, her brother didn’t get the hint. He’d done fine with last week’s snacks, but today Ethan seemed happier to just sit and watch the supplies he’d requested, as if they were going to get up and do a little dance if he waited long enough. If this was his normal working speed, Mandy was going to be chasing after a herd of canoes, waving lunches in the air like a mother chasing a school bus. Hiring a family member had been a very dumb move. Even if it had been the right thing to do. Even if he was good at it--when he actually did it.
Mandy left another message for Seth and tried not to panic about things not arriving fast enough to stay on schedule for her grand opening. She needed flooring. Tables. Menu signs. The rest of the kitchen equipment. Where were they sending it from? Timbuktu by Pony Express?
She’d call Frankie. That’s what she’d do. They hadn’t hung out since he blew out of here a week ago but that didn’t mean anything--they were both busy with life and the upcoming Blueberry Cruise. Maybe she’d make him some brownies as a token of--
Oh! The brownies.
She whipped open the oven and sagged in relief. Perfect timing. She pulled out the brownies, which were just coming away from the pan’s edges, and set them aside to cool.
“Those smell good,” her brother said, rolling closer, hands on his wheels.
“If you get the sandwiches done in the next twenty-five minutes, you can have one.”
“Are those your prize-winning ones?”
She shook her head and hung her oven mitts on a nearby hook. “But it looks like the calibration for the oven is finally dead on.” She poked at the tray of treats, inhaling their aroma. “These are my new whiskey brownies. I’m going to add mini gumdrops as well as a thick chocolate icing. They’re a shout out to Grandpa Frank and the gumdrops he used to give me as a kid.” She stood back, caught in a moment of nostalgia as she thought of all the warm memories she had of hanging out with Frankie and his grandfather in this very building.
“They smell like contenders for the fall fair,” Ethan said.
“Yeah, maybe.” She turned her back, hoping Ethan would get the hint and go back to work. She dialed Frankie at the shop, hoping to catch him during his coffee break.
Dodger picked up the phone, sounding slightly harried.
“Hey, Dodger, is Frankie in?” Mandy asked, knowing he would be.
“Uh, no,” he said carefully. “He left yesterday.”
Mandy frowned. “Um?”
“For the show.”
“The show?” Mandy scratched her head. What had she missed? And why did it feel as though she was in an elevator and the cable had just snapped?
“The TV show? The guy w
ho was going to do up the Mercury roadster ended up in the hospital and so Frankie’s doing it. Cool, huh? That’s great that you let him go.”
“Uh, yeah. Right. Of course. I don’t own him.” Mandy drew in a breath. How had she not heard about this? And why hadn’t Frankie told her? “Uh, do you know how long he’ll be gone?” She shut her eyes, the letter of offer from the TV show coming to mind. If she recalled correctly, he was going to be gone a very long time.
“He told Alex he needed four months off…” Dodger said uncertainly.
“Right. I mean…like…” Mandy scrambled for a plausible question that would not only save face but get her the info she needed. “The show and shine…”
“He finished up a pile of stuff and said he’ll do the rest from the city. But I’m definitely gonna need you to explain some of this. His handwriting is bad.” He gave a chuckle.
Frankie was going to miss everything. The show and shine. Her opening.
He didn’t say goodbye.
No, don’t think about yourself. Think about him. He was following his dream and doing what he should. That was good.
But he’d just…left. Left like they weren’t even friends.
She closed her eyes and hung up the phone, pushing it against her forehead, desperately wanting to talk to Frankie in person.
Flat slapping noises disturbed her thoughts and she turned to see her brother slapping slices of bread into a row on the low, adjustable counter their father had made specifically for him and his wheelchair.
“Argh!” Mandy snatched the bread and tossed it in the trash. “How would you like it if I dragged my hands across this floor and then smeared them all over your sandwich?”
“What?” Ethan leaned away from her flailing arms, a mixture of emotions flitting across his face.
“What do you think are on your wheelchair wheels? They’ve been everywhere from bird poo to who only knows what and you were just touching them to get to the table and now you’re handling food. How many times have we gone over this? Don’t you understand that this isn’t your house where you can make a sandwich any old way you want? People are paying for this! There are guidelines I have to follow. You’re supposed to wear gloves.”
“Relax, Mandy.”
“Don’t tell me to relax--this is my livelihood!”
“I was touching the metal, not the tire. And you all but dumped this catering stuff on me.”
“Wash your hands.” She pointed to the sink tucked by the back door. “This is commercial food preparation. Where’s your hairnet?”
“It was itchy.”
“Seriously?” Mandy looked at the ceiling and tried to remember some sort of move she could do that would settle her chi into a happy little ball in her center. She couldn’t think of a single one that wouldn’t prevent her chi from being blasted all over the place when she reached over and strangled her brother.
Never hire family.
Never. Ever. Again.
“What?” her brother asked in a peeved voice.
“You’re going to get me shut down before I even open!”
“I think Seth has already taken care of that,” he muttered.
“What did you just say?”
“Don’t take your frustrations with Frankie out on me!”
“Frankie has nothing to do with the fact that you won’t obey food preparation regulations.”
“You’ve been in such a mood since you and Frankie had that fight. Get over it already!”
“And you’ve been a pouty baby since the day you were born. Frankie and I didn’t--”
“It’s all over town, Mandy. I can’t believe you told Frankie to follow his dreams. What’s Alex supposed to do with Frankie suddenly gone?” He gave her a look as if to say ‘How could you?’ as he pushed his chair away from the prep table.
“That,” Mandy said, trying to gain control over her voice, which was wobbling from anger, “has nothing to do with me. He makes his own choices.”
“Sure. After you make them for him.”
“That is not true.”
“He’d jump off a cliff if you asked him to and you don’t even care.”
“I do too care! I care a lot!”
“Then prove it.”
“Prove what, exactly,” she asked carefully.
“The fact that you love him enough to put your own heart on the line instead of always stomping all over his.”
Mandy took a step back, gasping. “I do not!”
“Do so.”
“Like you’re one to talk. You’re too afraid to step out there and let anyone accept you as you are. Quit waiting to walk in order to live.”
Her brother shoved his chair toward the door, his expression dark. “You just keep on living with your head up your you-know-what, Mandy.”
The blood in Mandy’s ears rushed like a river during spring runoff and she tried to pull in a steadying breath.
Her brother paused at the door. “I can’t deal with this job. It’s too much stress--it’s not good for me. I quit.”
Mandy grabbed her hair, trying not to succumb to the urge to yank it all out. “Right now?”
“Right now.”
“Fine. Go. It would be faster and easier if I did it myself.” She moved to the table and began prepping sandwiches.
“You forgot to wash your hands,” her brother said.
As he glided out the door, she whipped slices of bread at him, fuming as they gently rained around him, pattering to the floor. She shoved the heels of her hands against her eyes and pushed back the tears of frustration fighting against her eyelids. The phone rang and she snatched it off the hook, forcing her voice to sound cheery. “Wrap it Up, Mandy speaking.”
“Mandy, it’s Seth. We need to talk.”
13
Mandy blocked the exit to Seth’s office-slash-apartment, refusing to let him leave. He was harried and peeved as the past fifteen minutes had involved a lot of him silencing the ringing phone and the two of them verbally dancing like sumo wrestlers, trying to keep the other from getting a good grip and shoving the other one out of the ring. Or in Seth’s case, making his way out of the building after giving her flimsy excuses for why he’d called her into the city. She knew it wasn’t just to tell her he’d been exonerated for scams and that the rest of her equipment might be a bit delayed despite his pushing.
“Mandy, step aside,” he said on a sigh. “I have to get to this meeting.” He pushed up his suit sleeve to check his watch. “Proceed with your opening as planned. You have a tight timeline but you’ve got this. Just…no matter what, keep going according to plan. No matter what.” He paused to meet her eye. “You said you trusted me. I’ll make sure it’ll all work out.”
“Work out with what? No décor, no creation station, no furniture, no signs, no training and a menu that just changed!” She jabbed him hard in the chest. “I have well under a month.”
He wiped his face with a hand. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I just need you to trust me.” He made a move to squeeze past her again, but her instincts told her to block him. If she let him by, she had a feeling he’d successfully avoid her forever more.
“This isn’t just about expanding too fast,” she said as he went to protest her blocking him. “Is it? Why did you call me here? What’s really going on?”
Seth paled, but he looked her straight in the eye. “You have no recourse but to continue. To back out at this stage would mean definite financial decimation.” He tried to move past her again, but she placed her body between him and the space he planned to move into.
“Who said anything about backing out?”
Seth gave her a sad, pained look that would have made her back off if she hadn’t invested her savings and put Frankie’s inheritance on the line. The term invested held a whole new meaning to her now. It was bad enough Frankie wasn’t talking to her, she could only imagine what it would be like if she lost Grandpa Frank’s.
“Mandy, you are such an innocent in all of this.” H
e gave her a piteous look and tried to ease past her. “I’d like to keep it that way.”
She glowered and blocked his way. She hadn’t played ice hockey against her brothers on Blueberry Lake all those years without learning how to anticipate someone else’s moves. He could try and deke her out all he liked but he wasn’t getting past her until she decided he could.
Seth’s shoulders rounded and he shot her a look of defeat. “Fine. Wrap it Up is in trouble.”
She took a step toward him. “Everything I’ve put into this is everything I’ve never had. I can’t afford to lose this, Seth.”
“I know,” he moaned. “I’m sorry. I thought you were…” He let out an anguished sigh.
She struggled to keep her emotions under control, as well as the strong urge to grip him around his throat and shake and shake him until his eyes popped out of his skull. “How bad is it?” she asked tightly.
Seth eyed the door and for a moment, Mandy thought he was going to knock her aside and race through it. Instead, he took a deep breath and said, “I’m being accused of money laundering and fraud.”
Mandy’s heart made a large ka-thump in her chest, then stilled for what should have been two beats. “Say that again?” Those were mobster charges…not for a guy like Seth--just some dude trying to act larger than his britches could ever be.
“It’s a long story, but the short version is they don’t like how I’ve financed things.” He ran a hand through his hair and took several steps back, unable to meet her eye. “They think I’ve done something illegal, but I haven’t. Everything is aboveboard and this publicity will actually be good for the brand because it will get us in the news. Except…”
“Except what?”
Seth waved a hand vaguely. “Expanding at the rate I have been--it’s a financial balancing act. I have a lot of plates spinning on sticks and I dropped one. Lexi got mad--”
“Lexi?” Mandy breathed.
“It ended up hurting her because I had to increase the interest on her franchise loan.”
