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Carrolls and Firrs

Page 5

by Janice M. Whiteaker


  But now wasn’t the time to tell her parents that. “What I’m going to do is lay out a plan. Get everything figured out. Not just the problems, but also the solutions. Then we can sit down and go over everything at once.”

  As difficult as her parents were she couldn’t stomach the idea of tearing down the business they worked so hard on, even if it wasn’t the right way. Especially when she wasn’t at all ready to tell them how to build it back up again.

  Hopefully her trip tonight convinced Doug to help her figure out how in the heck to accomplish that.

  “Give me a couple weeks.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE SOUND OF the front door bell almost made Ellie fall out of her chair.

  She’d been working on the list of potential shop changes for almost two hours. Her mom and dad left right after lunch in their Santa and Mrs. Claus best to go visit a children’s hospital a couple hours away. They would be gone for the rest of the day, leaving her free rein of the shop. It was the perfect time to get started taking inventory and looking good and hard at all its problems.

  And since Mr. Firr hadn’t gotten back with her over the weekend Ellie had to assume he decided those problems were all hers. Lucky her.

  The sound of heavy footsteps across the hardwood of the shop’s floor and ornaments jingling as they were inspected were easy to identify since the music was now turned down to a reasonable volume. Ellie pushed back her office chair. “I’ll be right out.”

  She stretched the desk ache out of her back and pulled the office door closed behind her, quickly rounding the short hallway. “Good afterno—”

  Ellie stopped dead in her tracks.

  Even only seeing part of the large body mostly hidden behind one of the five synthetic trees stuffed into the small space, she knew who the wide shoulders and long legs belonged to. And darned if it didn’t make her heart skip a beat.

  Doug poked his head around the tree, its branches drooping heavily with the weight of too many decorations. “I thought I’d come see what I was getting myself into here.” He looked around the dim, claustrophobic space. “I haven’t been here in years.”

  Ellie snorted. “It probably hasn’t changed much.”

  Doug shook his head and stepped from behind the tree. “No it has not.” He held out a cardboard cup with a pretty scrolled stamp on the side. “I brought you something.”

  Ellie took it, the drink instantly warming the palm of her hand. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I feel bad. I meant to call you this weekend but things got hectic.” Doug stepped further into the shop, looking around as he went.

  Ellie followed behind him. “I would guess you guys are pretty busy this time of the year.”

  Doug chuckled. That same almost rumble she struggled to forget from their first meeting in the gas station. “Between the tree farm and the restaurant we are covered up. Tis the season I guess.” Doug looked around the empty shop. “Well…”

  Ellie sipped at the coffee he brought. It was rich and a little creamy and the best cup she’d had since the move. “Wow. This is amazing.”

  “It’s better than my gas station concoction I can tell you that.” Doug smiled as he leaned against the high-top counter that held the checkout area, crossing one blue jean clad leg over the other.

  Hopefully he was here to tell her he would help. Because over the past couple of hours she’d come to a pretty discouraging conclusion. She needed his help.

  Also because it wouldn’t be hateful to have to look at him on a regular basis. Doug was the cliché tall, dark, and handsome sort of man women were supposed to fall all over. And what a cliché he was.

  Ellie tugged at the neck of her too hot sweater. Holy moly it was a good thing she wasn’t sticking around or she might just end up falling over herself.

  She cleared her throat. “Does this mean you’re going to help me?”

  Doug took another appraising look around the shop. “It means I’m going to try.” He shook his head. “But I don’t know that I can guarantee this is salvageable.”

  Her heart sank. It hadn’t occurred to her the shop might be beyond help. “That bad?”

  “Bad isn’t really the problem.” Doug wandered toward the Christmas infested wall of display shelves. “I did some research and Christmas themed shops were a big thing years back but they’ve kind of lost their appeal.”

  “Oh.” Ellie took a big gulp of her coffee and let his words sink in. Even if she came up with amazing ways to revamp the shop. Changed the décor, modernized the inventory, thinned out the clutter. It still might not be enough.

  “That doesn’t mean we can’t make this a profitable business.” He looked back at her, his face calm and reassuring. “It just means it can’t continue to be what it is.”

  We. It was unnerving how much better she felt because of that one word so she decided to ignore it.

  “What about the bakery?” Ellie didn’t want to hear the answer. She expected the bakery would be the harder of the two to fix. If that was true…

  Doug pointed to the door joining the shop to the bakery. “This it?”

  Ellie nodded and followed him next door dread sitting heavy in her stomach.

  Doug glanced around the small dining area. “Can I go back into the kitchen?”

  “Sure.” Heat crept up her cheeks. Even though none of this was her doing, it was embarrassing having someone as successful as Doug see the way her parents ran the bakery.

  Ellie waited in the front, looking through the large windows onto the street outside, trying not to think of the atrocities Doug would find. People milled about, the tiny flakes of snow drifting from the heavy clouds lying low in the sky clinging to their coats and dusting their windshields. She listened as the refrigerator door opened and closed. Then the freezer.

  Then it went quiet. Ellie slowly turned and found Doug standing behind the counter, his coffee in one hand and—

  “I wouldn’t eat that.” She scooted around the glass fronted case with every intention of snatching the scone from his hand. She was too slow.

  Doug had a mouthful before he was within her reach. He looked at the scone in confusion. Then at her. “Ellie this tastes horrible.” Doug slowly worked his jaw a couple more times, struggling against the texture she knew all too well.

  Ellie grabbed a napkin from the pile beside the register and held it out. “You don’t have to eat that.”

  Doug took a swig of his coffee and managed to get the bite down. “Well, it’s a good way to sell more coffee.”

  Ellie rolled her eyes. “Even the coffee is horrible.” She grabbed the pot her mom set to brew just before she left and held it up as evidence.

  Doug squinted at the carafe. “Is that tea?”

  “No.” Ellie slid it back in place. “And that’s the least of the problems. They use cookies that come in a bucket and scones from the freezer section at the store. I don’t even want to know where the cinnamon bread and fruitcake come from.”

  “You have fruitcake here?” Doug leaned down and scanned the case.

  “Did the scone teach you nothing?”

  Doug gave her a grin, his dimples pronounced even under the dusting of dark stubble shadowing his jaw. “Even store-bought fruitcake is good.”

  Ellie wrinkled her nose. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. “How awful is it? Am I in bigger trouble than I thought?”

  Doug shook his head. “Not in here. This is all relatively easy to fix.” He nodded to the shop next door. “That though.” He blew out a long breath. “That will take some brainstorming.”

  That meant he didn’t think the shop was hopeless. It was unfortunate the bakery would be the easier fix. Her parents would give up the bakery before they’d give up the Christmas shop. “Maybe the bakery could carry the whole thing.”

  Doug studied her for a minute. “Is that what you would say if it was someone who hired you to come help them fix thei
r business?”

  It wasn’t. Ellie walked back into the shop. “My parents are just funny about this place.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know.” Doug followed close behind her, ducking under a low hanging line of twinkle lights. “I’m not saying Christmas has to leave completely.” He held up one of seven different Advent calendars the shop stocked. “I’m just saying you need to thin it out and make room for something that might be less restrictive.”

  Doug looked up at the dingy plaster ceiling. “Who owns this building?”

  “My parents own the whole block.” Ellie reached up and grabbed at the strand of lights that almost clotheslined Doug and tried to flip them back over the hook they’d escaped. “I think that’s why they haven’t really been worried until recently. They have all the rental income from the other shops and the apartments upstairs.”

  Hopefully they made at least a little each month on the properties. While her parents were an open book on the financials of the shop and the bakery, they’d been more than a little elusive when she asked about the rest.

  “Well that’s something then.” Doug held out his empty cup. “Can I throw this away?”

  Ellie grabbed the wastebasket from behind the counter.

  He tossed it in and checked his watch. “I’ve got to get going.” He tucked his hands in his pockets and barely rocked onto the balls of his feet. “How do you want to do this?”

  “I wish I could say we could meet here but…” Ellie flipped the wayward lights again, imagining her parents’ reactions if they walked in on her and the man they wanted to blame for their problems.

  “Yeah. Probably not the best idea.” Doug laughed a little. “I can’t say it wouldn’t be just a little fun to see the look on your dad’s face though.”

  At least he was more amused than angry about her parents. She hoped so anyway. “I’m glad you have a sense of humor about them. I was worried you’d throw me out when I told you who I was.”

  “Nah. They’re just frustrated.” Doug moved in close and gently took the lights she was still unsuccessfully flinging around. He tucked them back in place, adjusting the length so each side draped evenly. “How about you come by the café tomorrow evening and we can sit down and go over what you’re thinking?”

  Ellie blinked up at him. Doug was so close his already familiar scent of leather and trees surrounded her. She wouldn’t have killed the wax warmer if it would make the shop smell like this. “That sounds perfect.”

  Holy crap she sounded like a smitten teenager. Ellie straightened and stepped away. “Yes. Tomorrow would be fine.”

  “Good. I’ll see you around six?” Doug started walking to the front of the shop.

  Ellie resisted the urge to follow him. “Can we make it seven?”

  He paused, hand on the door. “Sure.” The bell rang as he pushed the glass. “Come hungry.”

  And he was gone.

  Ellie turned her back to the storefront. Why would she watch him walk away? That would be ridiculous.

  But man did she want to.

  The bell rang again, scaring the life out of her for the second time this afternoon. Spinning around, Ellie expected to see tall, dark, and dimpled back again and darned if she wasn’t disappointed when she saw short, blonde, and pregnant.

  Betsy’s blue eyes were open so wide they looked like they might just pop out of her head. “Ellie was that who I think it was?” Her friend waddled through the store, tugging at the teal scarf wrapped around her neck.

  Ellie tried to act casual. It wasn’t as big of a deal as Betsy wanted it to be. “It was Doug Firr.” She shrugged hoping it added to the nonchalant attitude she was having to work way too hard at. “I asked if he would help me figure out how to fix this mess.”

  “Uh-huh.” Betsy’s eyes didn’t leave her face as the scarf finally relented to her friend’s insistent yanking. “Why did you do that?”

  “Doug knows more than I do about this type of business and he understands what this town will support.” Ellie held out her hand for Betsy’s coat. “Plus he’s obviously good at what he does.”

  Betsy handed off her coat and Ellie turned to hang it on the chair behind the checkout desk.

  “I’m sure it has nothing to do with how stupidly good-looking he is.”

  Ellie turned and shot Betsy a dirty look. “I dealt with good-looking men all the time in New York.”

  Good-looking, clean-cut men in tailored suits and shiny shoes who liked to talk about how successful they were.

  “But did they have those dimples?” Betsy wiggled her eyebrows.

  Ellie pursed her lips. Was it so horrible to admit that she might find Doug Firr to be one of the more attractive men she’d run across? No. Especially not since she wasn’t going to be hanging around long enough to do more than appreciate what God gave him. She blew out a breath. “No one has dimples like that man.”

  “Ahhhhh!” Betsy bounced as much as her extra girth would allow. “I knew you thought he was cute.”

  Ellie rolled her eyes. “Are you only here to give me a hard time?”

  “Of course not.” Betsy made her way toward the bakery. “I’m here because baby wanted cookies but I don’t have any eggs.”

  “You might just want to go buy eggs.”

  Betsy peered into the glass display case. “Oooooh. What are those?” She pointed at the tray filled with cranberry white chocolate bucket-o-cookies.

  “Horrible.” Ellie went behind the case and slid open the back mirrored door, pulling one free. “Try it.”

  “They are cookies. How bad could they be?” Betsy bit off a huge chunk. She looked at the cookie in her hand as she chewed, brow wrinkled in confusion. “How is this possible?” She squished up her face. “It tastes like chewy cardboard.”

  “The scones are worse.”

  Betsy passed the cookie back. “Are they all that bad?”

  “Unfortunately.” Ellie tossed the cookie in the trash. “They’re pre-made dough that my mom bakes.”

  “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. Who doesn’t like to bake cookies?” Betsy waved. “I’m leaving to go get eggs.” She walked through the door, disappearing into the shop. “I’ll call you later. I need another date at The Grove.”

  Ellie started around the case. “I’m going tomorrow. I can bring you something.”

  Betsy poked her head back in the bakery, one eyebrow cocked.

  Ellie dropped her head to one side. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “I can’t help it. This is just how my face looks.” A slow grin crept across Betsy’s face.

  “Tell dimples I said hi.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “WHAT DO YOU think?”

  Aspen and Janie stared up at the deteriorated three-story building in front of them, their eyes slowly studying the hardscape. Janie took a noticeable deep breath and her eyes widened with each passing second. And there were a lot of them.

  Enough to make Doug squirm. This was his favorite building in town. Always had been. He’d imagined the narrow building with Victorian lines as a million things over the years. As a kid it was a candy shop. During his teenage years, he imagined it lined with old vinyl records and cases of CD’s. A few years back he thought maybe a general store of sorts. No matter what it was, in his mind’s eye the building was always beautiful. Always restored to the condition it deserved to be in.

  Now, with his mother and sister silently staring, Doug questioned his dream.

  Janie was the first to speak.

  “It’s a neat place but it needs a little love doesn’t it?” She stepped up to the window and held her hands up to peer in the dusty window. “What’s upstairs?”

  Doug held up the keys. “Do you want to go check it out?”

  “Well of course.” His mother gave him a gentle push toward the door. “Get your mother out of this wind.”

  Doug unlocked the deadbolt and the glass paned door swung open. He stepped inside for the second
time. The perfect tracks he left yesterday were still there, unbothered in the dust covering the chipped paint of the floors. He looked around the front room, this time noticing the drape of cobwebs clinging to the walls and ceilings and the heavy scattering of dead roaches across every horizontal surface.

  Many years ago this part of the building served as a pharmacy. A few rickety shelves and the front counter were all that remained of the building's former life as a functioning member of the city’s downtown shopping district. Now, and for as many years as he could remember, it sat. Quiet. Empty. Alone. Slowly declining until it became the shell of a building it was now.

  The one he wanted to buy.

  Janie walked around the narrow room, the boards of the floor creaking with every step. She stopped by the counter and rested her hand on the chipped Formica top. “I remember when this place was still open.” She turned toward the front door, but looked beyond, her eyes far away, a smile tugging at her lips. “This is where I came to buy the test when we got pregnant with Aspen.”

  Janie pointed at the peeling plaster ceiling. “Can we go up?”

  Doug followed behind his mother as she made her way through the rest of the first floor to the back staircase, running the tip of her finger over the wall as she walked down the hall past the next room. Her boots added another set of steps to the hurried scuffs he left earlier as he raced through the building in excitement. Planning. Imagining. Dreaming.

  It didn’t look like his mom and Aspen shared his dream.

  Aspen lagged behind, stopped at the bottom of the stairwell, looking up as he and Janie went up to the second floor. “What’s up there?”

  His mom stopped and looked over her shoulder, past Doug. “Used to be where the pharmacist lived with his family.”

  Janie pushed open the door at the top of the stairs and stepped into the living space. She spun in a circle, taking it in. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s done a thing to this place in almost thirty years.”

  “They didn’t do much to it before that either.” Aspen stood in the doorway, her nose slightly crinkled on one side, nearly camouflaging her tiny nose ring. “It’s a wreck.”

 

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