by Jean Oram
“Will you be serving these in your new restaurant, Mandy?” asked the main judge.
Mandy snapped to. “I’m sorry?”
He licked his lips uncertainly and paused to lean close to the microphone again. “Well…I’d heard you were going to open independently.”
But…how did he know? Every time she’d tried to mention it people had changed the subject.
“Yes. That is the…the plan.”
“So? Will you serve your new brownies?”
Mandy assumed her businesswoman stance, head held high and back straight, despite her worn out pair of jeans and flip-flops. She hardly looked like someone to trust with a micro business loan. But then again, in her glossy brochures she’d looked like someone else, too. Someone she didn’t much identify with. And what she was wearing right now was certainly more relatable to the Blueberry Springs crowd. She needed every face in this crowd to get behind her. It was time to trust herself. Trust her instincts.
“As you may have heard,” she said in a low voice and the judge nudged her closer to the microphone and suggested she speak louder. “The chain I was supposed to open--Wrap it Up, a healthy fast-food alternative--is in dire financial trouble. My restaurant, which was supposed to open at the end of the month, will not be opening. It will be seized by the liquidators, along with Frankie’s building.” Her voice caught and she forced herself not to think, just to dictate everything to the crowd. “In six days.”
She looked at the crowd, who had gasped and begun murmuring.
“Several other franchisees in our area are in a similar situation. In an attempt to save what Frankie and I have invested, I’ve teamed together with these businesswomen. We’ve developed a plan to get our businesses back so we can continue on, or in my case--” she gave a little smile and a pause “--open my doors, and serve the people we love the best food we can.”
Her mind went blank. Where was she going with this? Her sales pitch was turning cheesy. She needed to get to the point before she plopped down on the makeshift stage and started bawling.
She clenched her trembling hands. The crowd already knew she’d failed. They already knew she’d asked Frankie to be hers and had been rejected. What did she have left to lose? Where could she go from here other than up? If she was at least honest with them, they could decide whether to support her or not.
“I really want to do this. More than anything. You know how much I loved working at Benny’s and I wouldn’t give up working with him for anything that wasn’t dear to my heart. As a waitress at Benny’s--” she pointed to Benny, who was standing close to the front of the crowd “--I loved serving people. I truly enjoyed being able to serve each and every one of you.” She looked to Mary Alice in the crowd, grandkids clustered around her. “After you had a long day in the store, I enjoyed being able to give you a cup of coffee and a piece of Benny’s Chocolate Maven Pie. I felt as though I was able to give something back to you, a woman who has given so much to our community.”
She blinked back the emotion that was threatening to expose itself. She addressed Sophie, the harried mother who was now expecting number four and straining to keep her young son from storming the stage while her husband held his sister on his shoulders. “Being able to help a tired mom so she could stay on top of at least one thing in her day was gratifying. It might sound cheesy--” she gave a self-deprecating laugh “--and it kind of is! But truthfully, I love to serve people. It’s my way of helping and contributing. And with Wrap it Up, I thought I might be able to do that for you in a new way with menu items that fit a variety of dietary needs. But in my heart--despite the financial issues with the chain--I knew they couldn’t give you what you really wanted. So while Wrap it Up is closing its doors, I’d like to open mine--as a Wrap it Up, but with a Blueberry Springs flair. We franchisees are striving to go independent. If I can raise enough money to pay off my franchise loan, I can save what I’ve already invested as well as Frankie’s building. I want to serve healthy food on the go, keep on catering for Jen’s adventure tours, and have a coffee bar where you can meet up with your family and friends.” She held up her ribbon with pride, realizing that with the freedom of going independent she could now serve what everyone truly wanted--her own award-winning treats. “And enjoy a good brownie.”
The crowd hooted. She sucked in a deep, shaky breath and glanced at the judge beside her. “But I can’t do it alone.” Her voice lacked the strength it had a moment ago and the crowd grew quiet. “I know I’ve failed so far in trying to open my own place. It’s been hard.” Her voice shook. “Unbelievably hard. I’ve lost a lot.” She paused to gulp air. “And I’ve tried to do it without the help of Blueberry Springs, but the truth is, I need you. I need help.” She looked down at her feet. If only she’d had the courage to say those words to Frankie months ago…
“And how can we help, Mandy?” the judge prompted.
She looked out at the town. How could she ask these people who had so little to step up and help make her dream come true? What made her so special?
“What do you need, Mandy?” he repeated.
“I need a loan. It’s a lot to ask, I know,” she apologized quickly. “But there’s a website where you can make a micro loan. Even twenty-five dollars can help me open my doors. And I’ll pay every single loan back. With interest.” She held her breath. She’d said it. She’d admitted she needed help. And she was still standing. Albeit on shaky legs, but she was still standing.
The judge took the microphone. “Mandy will provide Ed with the information you need in order to help her, Blueberry Springs.” He glanced down at Ed, the newspaper’s editor, who was standing by the steps. “Isn’t that right, Ed?”
“It’ll be on our website in twenty minutes!” he announced, flipping open a small spiral notebook.
“Okay! Today’s winner!” The judge grabbed Mandy’s hand and raised it high. “And if you want to support this lovely young woman in her new business venture and get your taste buds on these prize-winning brownies, which are simply delectable--” he paused to smile and pat his mouth with a hand “--go to the newspaper’s website and donate to Mandy’s cause! She’s promised us brownies!”
Dazed, Mandy left the stage amid a plethora of back patting that left her shoulder blades stinging, and wondered what kind of wild ride was in store, now that Blueberry Springs had control of her destiny.
17
The rumble of Frankie’s Harley echoed in the distance, beating an irregular rhythm in Mandy’s chest as she stood outside her maybe-soon-to-be-hers-restaurant-if-she-could-pull-a-donkey-out-of-a-money’s-butt and waited for his motorcycle to roll into view. The prodigal son of Blueberry Springs, the soon-to-be famous Frankie. In the flesh.
He had two weeks off from the show, according to the rumor mill.
His bike rumbled up the street, sending vibrations through her legs and making her body taut with yearning. In her fantasies, he saw her, offered his second helmet and took her flying through the mountain passes like old times. They’d stop at a lookout and turn to each other…
“Is that him?” A group of young women elbowed Mandy out of the way. They were covered from head-to-toe in brand new outdoor gear that Jen must have convinced them was ‘the thing.’ With their prime view of the street, they nudged each other, their attention riveted to the tall, lean man rumbling up Main. Sexy and rugged as ever. Confident. In control. Ready to sweep through the crowd and make one woman feel like the only one on the planet worthy of his attention.
In the past it had been her--his best friend--and she longed for those days once more. She rose up on her tiptoes in anticipation and watched as he rode up with the wind, his shirtsleeves revealing the Chinese longevity symbol tattooed on his left bicep. She stepped out of the shadows of the building. He might look like a tough alpha with an impenetrable exterior but she knew there was so much more to him that that outer layer. So much more.
Except…something was off with the way he was riding. His helmet seemed bigger.
No, there were two of them. There was a small woman hugging his waist the way she should have been. Mandy closed her eyes as a wave of grief shredded her joyful anticipation. She propped herself against the door to her restaurant, tumbling out of sight as it swung inward.
She fled to the kitchen area, glad she still had the faded ‘opening soon’ banners tacked to the windows. She bit her knuckle and stared at the empty fridge, concentrating on making her ribcage contract to let out the breath that had become wedged in her chest.
Fighting the temptation to find out what Blowtorch was doing in town--by yanking her off the back of Frankie’s bike by the collar of her shirt--she snatched her to-do list and worked until her eyes burned, hoping to find a new pain that would divert her from what she was feeling in her heart.
Cool drizzle settled on Mandy’s arms, chilling her flesh as she stared through the plate glass window of the parts store, peering around a string of ‘M’s stuck to the window. Her body ached from her night spent dozing in the office of her maybe-restaurant.
It was Blowtorch. Wearing a parts shirt, her pixie cut making her look as adorable as ever.
She was working here. In Blueberry Springs.
With Frankie.
Her heart began acting unexpectedly unstable.
Didn’t Blowtorch have a real life somewhere? Away from Frankie? Far, far away from Frankie?
“Want me to run her out of town?” somebody whispered over Mandy’s shoulder.
Mandy fumbled the damp package she had tucked against her chest and turned to face Mary Alice.
“We ran Dr. Leham out of town,” Mary Alice said in a confidential tone that had Mandy imagining the woman knocking a fist into the palm of her hand as she trapped poor outsiders in dark alleys.
“No you didn’t,” Mandy replied. “He transferred to the city when his contract expired. It was always his plan to leave.”
Mary Alice faced Mandy, hands on her hips, looking like the kind of person nobody in her right mind would mess with, let alone talk back to. “What that woman is doing is despicable,” she spit. “Just like that Nash-hole nosing into town and honing in on Oz’s fiancée just when he was getting his act back together. Sometimes people need time, not some city person meddling and messing with things. Men just need time.” Mary Alice shook her head and clucked her tongue.
Mandy scratched her ear and turned back to the window.
“She’s trying to get Heart out of the store,” Mary Alice grumbled. “That pup is an institution.”
Mandy felt the earth shift. Wow, Blowtorch was a fast mover. She hadn’t even been here for twenty-four hours and she was already making changes. Mandy was going to have to step up her game or she’d be the one kicked off the curb by the end of the day. Not that she wasn’t already teetering there.
“Frankie would never let that happen,” Mandy said confidently. “Heart means a lot to him.”
Mary Alice leaned in. “That girl spells trouble. If we let her succeed, what’s she going to remove next? You?” She gave Mandy a pointed look.
Mandy sighed. Mary Alice was poking at her worst fears, yes, but it was up to Mandy to be the bigger person and ensure things didn’t get out of hand. If she was going to prove to Frankie that she was ready to be the kind of friend he wanted, the kind he deserved, then she had to be part of the new girlfriend welcoming committee, not the run-her-out committee. It was her turn to patiently wait on the sidelines.
Man, did it ever suck though. How had Frankie managed the anger and jealousy for so many years? Mandy was ready to freak out and it had only been eighteen hours.
“I appreciate you looking out for me, Mary Alice,” Mandy said kindly, struggling to rein in her emotions, “But Frankie makes his own choices.”
Mary Alice continued, “What else is she going to change? Is she going to stop Benny from making the best burger in town?”
“You from gossiping?” Mandy retorted, crossing her arms.
Mary Alice laughed appreciatively, her bosom heaving with the effort. “And you from winning the brownie ribbon every year?”
Mandy felt a shiver dance down her spine and she rolled her shoulders, trying to put herself back at ease. If she was ever going to have a chance with Frankie she had to remain calm, be kind. Be a mature, supportive friend.
“She’s another Nash Leham,” Mary Alice warned. “She needs to go.”
Mandy waved her off and headed for the entrance. “Give the poor woman a break,” she said. “She has very good taste in men and if Frankie chose her, then…” Her throat seized. “Then…well, I’m sure she’s very…nice.”
Mandy hurried to the store’s door, afraid her true emotions were about to start screaming through her flimsy façade.
“We don’t need a city slicker after Frankie,” Mary Alice called, eyes flashing. “Not when he’s got homegrown hankering after him.”
Mandy ignored her and pushed her way into the store, knowing it wasn’t time for grand gestures or desperate humiliation. Not yet. But mark her words, if she was going down, she’d be engulfed in flames and kicking and screaming and fighting it all the way.
Mandy stopped inside the door and shifted from foot to foot, the store’s silence sending creepy crawlies up her back. No radio station declaring the weather. No dog greeting her. Nothing.
She glanced around, looking for more changes. The shelves were covered in their usual amount of dust and the floor had the grime buildup at the edge of the shelving feet as usual. It looked like Blowtorch couldn’t change everything overnight. Alex called out from behind a large parts catalog, “I was wondering when you’d finally come in.”
Mandy jumped and squeaked out a babbled reply that didn’t make sense.
“He’s in the back,” Alex said. “Go on, through, if you’d like.”
Blowtorch popped out from behind the parts shelves, her expression wary. Mandy gave her a smile and a slight nod of acknowledgement as she passed, gift tucked under her arm.
Heart, who had been barricaded in one of the rows, unfolded his long legs and gave her a happy bark of hello.
“There you are, old boy,” Mandy cooed, heading over to pet him. “I was wondering where you were.”
Blowtorch blocked Mandy, grabbing Heart by the collar so he wouldn’t knock down the board that had him fenced in. “Stay!” she commanded.
“Oh, it’s okay,” Mandy said. “Heart and I go way back.” She reached over to give Heart a scratch behind the ears, talking to him in a thatta-boy voice that made his tail thump the nearby shelves, sending boxes of bearings skittering across the floor while knocking down his barricade.
Mandy, receiving ear licks from the dog, laughed as she snatched up the boxes and began placing them back on the shelf.
“I can do that,” said Blowtorch in a firm voice.
“That’s okay,” she replied cheerily.
“I know where they go.”
Mandy placed the last box on the shelf. “All done. Come on, Heart,” she called, moving between the tall shelves.
“Heart, stay!” Blowtorch commanded, tugging on the dog’s collar when he tried to follow. “He shouldn’t hassle customers.”
Mandy clenched her fists to keep from making a scene and forced herself to keep moving toward the back room, leaving the poor dog behind.
Rounding the corner to the back room, she found Frankie hunched over a box of brake pads. As she drew near, she had to fight the temptation to wrap her arms around him and never let go. Everything about him was so familiar: the grit under his nails, the furrow between his brows and even the way his eyes lit up as he recognized her. Well, for the split second before caution swept it away and he crossed his arms, leaning back and effectively blocking out all hope.
“Hi.”
“Hey.” Frankie scratched his forehead with a thumb.
“Um.” Mandy fidgeted with her necklace, feeling as nervous as if it was the first time she’d summoned the courage to speak to someone she had the hots for. “You looked good on
TV. And the car turned out well?”
“Yeah, real nice. We have some detailing to do, but not for another few weeks.”
“You must be insanely busy with new jobs.”
Frankie’s eyes glowed with pride, but he shrugged modestly. “A few. But the show hasn’t aired yet, so…” He shrugged again.
“That’s good. Maybe you could do restoration and custom mods full time?”
He turned away, placing the box on a shelf, straightening a few others as he worked his way down the row of returns. “Did you need something?”
She clutched the wrapped, flat box with both hands and came around to where he was and held out the gift. “Happy birthday.”
He hesitated for a second before meeting her eyes and accepting the package. “Thanks.” He hefted the gift, contemplating it.
“Open it.”
He looked at her and swallowed, almost as if he was considering something. “Right,” he said softly and tore the paper off in one gentle swoop. She’d never been with him on Christmas day but she was pretty sure he surpassed all gift-opening records with his casual, efficient moves. She’d bet his mom used extra tape to foil him. And ribbon. Lots and lots of heavily knotted ribbon. Although, he usually carried a pocketknife so she doubted even knots would slow him down.
He held out the small picture frame, assessing it. She held her breath as he looked over the uncut sheet of stamps bearing iconic muscle cars. The stamps hadn’t cost much, but figuring out how to mat and frame them in a professional way had. She hoped he understood that she’d thought of him and that he saw beyond the few dollars the gift had cost her.
Frankie gave her a quick, one-armed hug and said lightly, “Thanks. You always remember.” He shook his head, looking pleased. “I’m going to hang this in my shop.” He looked at it again, holding it out with both hands. “No, in my house.” He gave her a crooked smile and the worry Mandy had been carrying eased.
They were friends. Maybe not more, but she still had a friend.
“Remember what?” asked a quiet voice that made Mandy start. She turned to find Blowtorch looking as though she’d just witnessed her boyfriend making out with someone else. Not Frankie sharing a half hug with his longtime best friend.
