Page 3 of Not Open Yet
He grabbed a bottle from the sanitizer and handed it to me. “Five ounces would be great.”
“Warmed?” I emptied one of the bags into the bottle and turned to Joel.
“Yeah, four minutes in the warmer. Thanks.” The baby started to fuss, so he patted her back. “I hope she likes it.”
“Haven’t had a dissatisfied customer yet.” I set up the warmer and then washed my hands again. “Call me if you have anyproblems or need more. I’ve got plenty frozen and make more every day.”
He chuckled and his shoulders finally dropped. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this. We were starting to panic.”
“Happy to help.” I saw myself out and headed to my last stop.
I had two packages to ship for my side business selling handmade spice blends. My customer base was mostly former students and their families who'd started ordering them as gifts and kept coming back. It didn’t bring in a lot of money, but I enjoyed making them, and it gave me something to do with my hands on slow afternoons. The post office wasn’t busy, so I paid for my packages and picked up a book of stamps while I was there.
The deli I liked was down the street, so I walked down to pick up a sandwich. On the way back, I passed the empty building that was supposed to be a coffee shop. A handwritten sign was stuck to the window that said The Daily Grind, and right below it were the words Not Open Yet. But that sign had been up for ages, and I was starting to lose hope that a decent coffee shop was coming to downtown.
But this time, the front door was propped open. That was promising.
Curious to see if they had an open date in mind, I stuck my head in the doorway and stopped short. A man was crumpled in the middle of the floor with his face in his hands. His shoulders moved violently, and when I tuned out everything else, I could hear sobbing.
Fuck, he looked so…broken.
I stood there for a minute and weighed my options.
The Daddy in me told me to walk in there, find out what he needed, and get it for him. Solve the problem.
Except, he was a stranger in the middle of a private moment. Whatever had put him on the floor was none of my business. He hadn't asked for any help and would probably be more upset that I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong than grateful for the attention.
Dammit.
The curse of being a life-long caretaker meant it was really hard for me to walk away when I saw someone in pain. I genuinely cared about people and wanted to end all suffering as soon as it began. But over the years, I’d learned that caring wasn't always the same as helping…and showing up where I hadn't been invited wasn't always welcome.
I couldn’t Daddy every broken man I walked past.
It wasn’t easy, but I backed up and went on my way. Whatever was going on in that coffee shop was not my concern.
But what I was definitely concerned about was the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about that poor guy for the rest of the day.
3
ETHAN
My phone buzzed while I was eating cereal on the couch, and I almost let it go to voicemail again. But I'd been doing that for too long, and it hadn't gotten me anywhere, so I picked up. "This is Ethan."
"Ethan, hi. This is Derek Paulson. I left you a voicemail about the mixed-use building on Clayborne."
"Right." I set my bowl down. "You got my message, then?"
"I did, and I’d like to meet up so we can discuss a possible purchase."
I nodded to myself even though he couldn’t see me. "Yeah, that’s fine. But, uh, what’s the offer?"
Papers shuffled on his end. "I'd love to go over the full offer in person. I think you'll find it's well above market for the area."
Above market sounded good, even though I had no idea what the market price might be. Daddy always handled that stuff. "I’m free tomorrow."
"Tomorrow works great. Does ten o'clock work for you?"
I sighed, resigned to the fact that I was actually doing this. "Yeah, sure. Ten’s good."
