Power Play

by Sophia Henry

  “Oh, sorry, I heard her say ‘Mr. Bertucci.’ ”

  “Yeah, that’s you.”

  Joey laughed, deep and loud. “Hell, no. That’s Papa. That’s Nonno!”

  “Just open the door.” I giggled. Leave it to Joey to be confused by his own last name. He probably had a different identity in Colorado.

  Joey cranked the key in the lock, before stooping to flip a metal latch on the bottom of the door. He pushed the door open and disappeared behind the surprisingly orderly crowd flooding through the entrance. I hadn’t seen so many people in Pilots gear since the last game I’d attended.

  My heart sped up as a rush of adrenaline flashed through me. I hoped that at least half the people would hang around to shop. If half of the crowd shopped and a quarter of the crowd bought something, I’d be a happy girl. If more than that hung around or purchased, I’d be ecstatic.

  I stood next to Luke and Gribov to direct people, answer questions, and help the guys if they needed it. Jessica walked outside to talk to the crowd still waiting on the street.

  On a normal Saturday, hundreds of people packed into every nook of Eastern Market. For the first time since we’d opened, 313 Artisans felt like a major part of it.

  “Holy shit!” Joey leaned against the door after he’d closed and locked it. “That was the craziest day in the history of existence. How do stores that are busy all the time keep up?”

  “Hopefully we’ll find out.” I smiled. Excitement shook my fingers as I tapped the keys necessary to print out the report I wanted to view. Today had been the busiest in 313 Artisans’ short history by far, but I needed to see the numbers.

  The numbers were real. Tangible. Papa couldn’t argue outstanding numbers.

  “Holy shit,” I mimicked my brother’s curse as I scanned the paper jumbled with numbers completely foreign to any report from this store’s printer. The report matched the numbers from a Saturday at the shed, our longest-running, most frequented produce stand. We’d rung the most we ever had on both registers. Granted, beating any previous day’s sales wasn’t a difficult feat, since the first register rarely got used, but to have to use the second register amazed me.

  Papa would be surprised. And proud. Hopefully proud. Joey and I had come together to make today a success even if it had been a surprise to both of us.

  Chapter 24

  Can you meet me at 16301 Iroquois at noon? Please.

  Please please please.

  Short and simple. The text I sent Landon this morning said what I needed to say, without going into detail. He hadn’t answered any of my calls, hadn’t responded to voicemails or texts in the last two weeks. Sending him a time and place seemed a little risky, but maybe he’d show up. If I could get him to meet me in person, I could explain everything. Asking couldn’t hurt.

  But him standing me up sure would.

  I pulled four S-shaped hooks out of my back pocket and began fastening the new sign to the chain-link fence in front of the garden. My fingers quivered as the minutes ticked closer to noon.

  After I’d finished hanging the first sign I opened the gate and walked through the garden, all the way to the back where I hung a replica of the sign, facing Burns Street. No matter if someone was walking at the front or back side of the garden, they would still understand the intention.

  The picnic blanket I always kept in my car lay in a clump on the grass. I picked it up and flapped it a few times, releasing the folds and crinkles from it being tucked away in my trunk. Then I draped it over the sign to block the words until Landon arrived.

  If Landon arrived.

  When I looked at my watch, the hands read quarter past twelve. Exactly one minute since the last time I’d checked. I couldn’t blame Landon for not showing. I probably wouldn’t come back to the spot where someone had accused me of stealing. Maybe he thought I was setting him up. Po-po waiting on the next block.

  When Landon finally pulled up, I was walking heel to toe along the curb, balancing with my arms extended as I did when I was a little girl. Trying to keep my balance even though there was no high-stakes reason to do so. Only this time there was. I felt like if I fell off, it would be the end of everything I’d gained with Landon.

  “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find the address,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

  “No worries.” I believed him. If you input “16301 Iroquois” into a navigation system, it doesn’t even register. It’s been a plot of land since the fire.

  “Nice of you to bring me back to the scene of my crime.” The low voice I loved acted like shock paddles, causing a rush of blood to my heart.

  “The scene of my crime,” I corrected, and jumped off the curb onto the patch of sparse brown grass that separated the sidewalk from the street. “I’m sorry I overreacted. I’m sorry I freaked out. I should have let you explain.”

  When I’d envisioned in my head how this moment would go, I’d squared my shoulders and looked straight into Landon’s eyes. I’d summoned every ounce of whatever charm he’d thought I’d had to lure him in originally.

  I was bold. I was strong.

  In my head.

  But standing in front of him, faced with real confrontation, reminded me of who I really was, and the strengths I didn’t possess. I couldn’t look at him at all, let alone into his eyes. So I apologized to the hot pink laces weaved through my black running shoes.

  “I know you think I’m a horrible person because I was upset that you were giving kids food. But I’m not, I swear. I—”

  “Look at me, Gabriella.”

  My head shot up immediately, responding to his command because I had missed him so much. I missed his smile and his eyes that anchored me. I missed the strength his presence brought out in me. And how his presence helped my newfound fearlessness transcend my timidity.

  Landon took a step toward me and reached out to touch my face. “I’m not angry with you. I don’t think you’re a horrible person. I could never think that.”

  “But I, geez, Landon. I freaked out. I freaked out because you gave hungry kids food.” I paused and shook my head, because that wasn’t the truth. “No. I freaked out because I was an idiot. Trying to be a hero and not thinking of anyone else.”

  “No, you didn’t. You freaked out because you’d reached your capacity for stress. I’m not blind, Gaby. I knew how much stress you’d been under. Shot down by your father, trying to work with a frustrating brother, and you saw me giving food away from a garden you started from ashes—literal ashes—to help rebuild your family’s life.”

  I tried to lower my head, but Landon reached for my chin and cupped it firmly. Then he tilted my face to his.

  “I knew those boys had been stealing food from this garden. I didn’t know it was your garden, but I knew they were stealing from someone’s garden. And it wasn’t right to make you feel bad about it. You are an amazing person, Gabriella. And no matter how angry I was when you didn’t listen to my explanation, you didn’t deserve another punch in the gut. Especially from me.”

  “I think I’m the one who delivered the blow.” I dropped my gaze to the cracked sidewalk.

  Landon let go of my chin. “In a way, yes, but I acted like an idiot. I let you walk away. I didn’t fight.”

  “There wasn’t much to fight for.” I looked at him. “A crazy girl who got mad because you gave food to hungry kids. You were right. And I want to remedy the situation.”

  “ ‘Remedy the situation’? Are we all business right now?” he asked.

  “What else should we be?”

  “Do you really need to ask me that?”

  “Yes,” I nodded. “Because I don’t know which way is up right now. You threw me for a loop, Landon. You changed my life. You changed who I am and how I portray myself to the world.”

  “I could say the same thing about you, Gaby.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Landon placed his hands on my shoulders. “Why do you think you don’t have an effect on people, Gabriella
? How can you not see that you are the good in the world? Do you think I’ve been angry because you called me out for taking food from your garden? I’m not. You were right.

  “I’ve been giving you time to cool down. To make sure you really want to be with someone like me. I treated you like your family has your whole life, going behind your back and making decisions for you without your permission. I placed those ads and set up that signing without asking you. I kept with the misogynist male you’ve been trying to break free of all your life.”

  “It worked. It all worked. We’ve never been so busy. Consistently.”

  “That’s not the point,” he argued.

  “I don’t care about the point.” I reached up and took his hands from my shoulders, holding them firmly and bringing them in front of us. “You were right. You did act a little like every other man in my life, but you did it because you had faith in me. In my ideas. Not because you were trying to keep me in my place. You knew I was too weak to place those ads without my father’s consent. And you knew we needed that advertisement just as much as I knew it. Maybe I have to stop with the victim mentality and start being part of the solutions.”

  “You are the solution. Your ideas are the injection of enthusiasm that your family’s stores need. I’m sorry I got so pissed off at your comment about not having to work for anything. Because I’ve worked my ass off, Gaby.”

  “I know you have.” I brought his hands to my lips and kissed them. “I shouldn’t have said that. It was anger in the moment talking.”

  “But again, you were right.”

  I shook my head, but Landon continued.

  “You were right. Compared to my little brothers, I’ve been handed everything. The best training. The best coaches. Parents who supported me and paid for me every step of the way. And there I was sniveling over two little boys who were born with nothing. Parents who chose drugs instead of them. People who used them for welfare money and discarded them when even that wasn’t enough.” Landon closed his eyes and shook his head.

  “But I shouldn’t have used your feelings against you. It wasn’t my place to judge.”

  “I’m glad I told you. And I’m glad you used it against me. I didn’t realize how selfish it was until you called me out.”

  “I think it’s human nature to rationalize things in our heads to get inner justification for feelings and decisions. We all do it,” I admitted, letting go of his hands.

  And I’m one of the worst. The proof was in the garden behind me.

  “I’ve seen such a huge change in you, Gaby. From the quiet girl who threw stuffed tigers at me to get my attention to the girl who stood up to me and kicked me to the curb.”

  “I’m pretty sure you kicked me to the curb, but whatever.” I smiled and shrugged my shoulders in dismissal.

  “No. I got pissed off and stormed away like a little boy. You put me in my place.”

  “Thank you for placing the ads. And setting up the signing. It kept the store running. I know it did. Papa would never admit it, but we were going down fast.”

  “All your ideas. I just ran with it,” Landon said.

  “Why did you use the pictures of Luke? I thought the plan was to use you in the ads. Hometown boy? Local hero? Longtime shopper?”

  “Because none of this is about me.” He put his hands on my arms, just below my shoulders. “This is about the next generation of your family’s business. Your business.”

  “But it could have been your first endorsement contract.”

  “Yeah, then all the guys would razz me about sleeping with my boss,” Landon teased. He lowered his face and pressed his lips on mine. “I love bringing color to your cheeks. So easily embarrassed.”

  “Don’t make me bust out a German polka on you.” I didn’t even care about the flush in my cheeks. I was just happy he was back by my side to put it there.

  “It wasn’t a polka!” Landon said in faux exasperation.

  I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him, unable to find a better way to express the pure joy filling my heart. “I don’t even know how to thank you. Hugging is all I have.”

  “Can’t. Breathe. Gaby.” He coughed out each word until I released my grip. Then he dropped his head. “And I happen to know hugging is not your best move. You can thank me with your closeted vixen ways later.”

  I ignored his comment. “Can I show you something?”

  “Does it have to do with your closeted vixen ways?”

  “No. Mind out of the gutter. We’re still making up here.” I took a step back to make it clear we still had business to discuss.

  “We could make up at my place.” Landon took a step closer to me and dipped his face into the curve where my neck meets my shoulders.

  “Seriously? Can I have one more minute of apology time?”

  “Yes.” Landon straightened.

  “Like I said before, you were right. I had no reason to yell at you about feeding hungry children. Pride and disappointment in myself got in the way of seeing the bigger picture.”

  “Gaby,” Landon began.

  “Shhh.” I took his hand and led him the few steps to the sign I’d covered with a blanket. “You were right. You’re a man, but you were right.” I winked. “So I did this.”

  I yanked the cover off the sign and watched Landon’s expression change from confused to delighted as he read it.

  COMMUNITY GARDEN

  IF YOU NEED IT. TAKE IT.

  IF YOUR NEIGHBOR NEEDS IT, TELL THEM.

  IF YOU HAVE THE MEANS, REPLANT.

  TOGETHER WE CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE

  HELPING EACH OTHER

  LOVE ALWAYS WINS

  “This is amazing, Gaby.” Landon faced me. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know I didn’t. But it made sense. So much sense. Why would I harvest this garden and give it to the soup kitchen, which has its own farm, when I could share it with the people right here?” I pushed flyaway strands of hair away from my face. “This was my street. These were my neighbors. There’s no doubt in my mind the families around here can benefit from this garden. And I know the ones that can help with it will. I can’t believe I was so selfish before.”

  “Giving your harvest to a soup kitchen is not selfish.” Landon grabbed my shoulders and shook them gently, trying to shake sense into me.

  “I know. I just meant that there’s more good to be done with the food right here. I don’t need to bring it anywhere else.”

  “It’s absolutely awesome. The way your mind works is absolutely awesome. Do you ever think about yourself?” Landon asked.

  “You know I do. That’s how we got into this mess.”

  “Let’s stop right now. No more. You wanted to help your family in a bad situation. That’s not being selfish.”

  “I love you.” I closed the gap between us and buried my face in his chest.

  “I have never been so lucky to be loved by someone.” Landon wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me into his warm, hard body. The meaty arms and muscular torso and masculine smell I missed so much in the last few weeks. “Can we make up for real now?”

  “And by that you mean going to your place, right?”

  Landon’s lips spread revealing his perfect set of teeth, Cheshire cat–like.

  “You’re such a guy. A smart guy.” I backed out of his embrace and bent to retrieve my picnic blanket from the ground.

  Landon smacked my rear end, which in my bent position, almost knocked me flat on my face.

  “Geez, Landon!” I tucked the blanket under my arm as I stood, brushing the dirt and gravel off my hands.

  He eyed the blanket as I shook it free of loose debris on the way to our cars. “You wanna spread that blanket in the garden and make up in there?”

  “In front of the fairies?” I faked a gasp.

  “Fairies?”

  I dismissed his question with a wave of my hand. “A story for another time.”

  “Business mogul. Book nerd. Closeted vixen.
Fairy believer. You never stop surprising me, Gaby.”

  Chapter 25

  “Do you know why I let Joey run this store?” Papa’s question came out of nowhere. A random rain shower on a flawless sunny day.

  “Long-standing Bertucci male-chauvinist tradition?” Right then I didn’t have a reason to be sarcastic, except my personal fatigue from bottling my anger over the male hierarchy.

  “What?” Papa’s narrowed eyes and forehead wrinkles told me he was honestly surprised at my comment.

  “Look, Papa, I know Bertucci Produce has always been run by men and it always will be.” A defeated sigh escaped as I finally gave voice to the truth I’d realized long ago. “And since Drew is into hockey, Joey’s the one. The golden boy. The heir to the Bertucci legacy. I’ve known that since I was born.”

  “Gabriella, come in here.” Papa waved me into the office.

  Uh-oh. Closed-door meeting. Maybe I had the right idea to keep my mouth shut all these years.

  I scanned the store to make sure it was safe to leave for a few minutes. Joey stood at the register, smiling and laughing with the customer he was checking out. Sammy was flipping through a T-shirt rack, helping another person find a certain size.

  The store was fine. Better than fine. Joey’s line was three customers deep. People wandered through the aisles, browsed through 8 x 10’s of artwork, and scrutinized candleholders and other sculptures.

  In the last eight months, the store had completely changed. Pride, the force that pushed my shoulders straight and held my head high, filled me. Undaunted, I entered the office and sat in a blue paisley chair across the desk from Papa.

  A less-confident Gaby would’ve put her head down and fiddled with her hands in her lap, waiting for Papa to rail her. But I didn’t. I liked to believe I was stronger and ready for whatever he had to throw at me. I kept my head high and looked my father straight in the eye. My feelings were out in the open. Time to own them rather than deny them.

  “Gabriella,” Papa began. He reached over the desk, his hand extended toward mine.

  Confused and frightened, I leaned forward and took his hand. Was he sick again? What was going on?