Chapter Two
The cylinder pendant lights with Edison bulbs lit up the check-out desk at Tomes & Tea as Jazzi closed down the register the next day. Across the store at the tea bar, Dawn prepared a pitcher of raspberry iced tea in preparation for their meeting with Brie Frazier. Brie had texted with Jazzi last night and had seemed anxious for the meeting.
Jazzi had switched on the digital CLOSED sign on the door but she’d told Brie simply to knock. The knock sounded at exactly seven fifteen. Jazzi turned off the lights above the sales counter as Dawn hurried to open the door.
Jazzi had set up a table with a basket of corn muffins. The Dockside Bakery added a touch of smoked paprika to them, and they were perfect for a savory snack. Jazzi had come from a family who believed food and tea enhanced any conversation, especially the more serious ones.
At the entrance, Dawn and Brie’s chatter preceded them inside. Jazzi studied Brie as she gracefully moved toward the table. Delaney had filled in Brie’s background info. She was around thirty-five and worked for a nonprofit that brought disabled and disadvantaged children to Belltower Landing to learn to swim and boat. The first thing Jazzi noticed about Brie was her pale blue eyes. The second was the messy blond topknot she’d arranged with chopsticks—at least that’s what they resembled.
Jazzi thought about her own mid-back long hair, but dismissed the idea of arranging it like that. Today she’d pulled her hair away from her face and clasped it in a boat barrette. It kept her hair tamed, but added pizzazz—at least she hoped it did.
When Brie approached the table, Jazzi gave her a welcoming smile. “I’m Jazzi.”
Brie nodded. “I’ve been in here before but you were busy. Delaney told me how you and Dawn opened the shop. Gutsy move.”
Dawn brought the pitcher of tea to the table. “We did our homework with profit projections and surveys about book purchases in a resort town. We were lucky to find a storefront along Lakeview Boulevard.”
“There wouldn’t be a chance to rent or buy now,” Jazzi said. “Prices have exploded. Anyway, that’s not what you came to talk about. Let’s sit.”
As Jazzi poured tea into their paper cups, Dawn asked Brie, “How can we help you?”
Brie was tall and willowy with long arms and delicate hands. She was wearing a long-sleeved silky white blouse and jeans. She took a muffin from the basket, studied it, then broke it in two. “I’ve never talked with anyone who was adopted.”
Jazzi exchanged a knowing look with Dawn. Dawn nodded to her, reading her mind.
Jazzi took a muffin herself while explaining, “Dawn and I met when we attended a group at college for people who had been adopted. I heard about it because I was majoring in human services.”
“I saw a notice for the group on one of the college chat boards,” Dawn added.
Jazzi further explained, “That adoption group helped both of us explore our feelings about our birth parents and settled questions in our minds about what we wanted . . . if searching for answers was best . . . or if we should simply let it alone.”
Jazzi remembered the turmoil she’d been in after her breakup with her boyfriend, and how searching for her biological father had seemed to be the best thing to do. But answers didn’t always bring peace.
Putting her hand to her glass of tea, Brie took a few swallows, then she admitted, “Up until now, I didn’t feel any urge to find my biological parents. But I’m thirty-five, and my biological clock is ticking. Earlier this year—actually it was my New Year’s resolution—I decided to actively start dating instead of working, paddleboarding, and living the single life. I want to meet the right guy and have kids. I work with kids every day, and I suddenly realized I want a few of my own. My thirty-fifth birthday seemed to have a lightning bolt attached to it, and that woke me up.”
Dawn pushed her bangle bracelets up and down her arm. “Jazzi found her bio parents. I haven’t yet. Do you want to find them to fill out your life story? Is that your reason?”
Brie swerved in her chair toward Dawn. “No, not just that. The medical background of my bio parents could be important to my health if I get pregnant. I do know my birth mom died when I was born. The facts could be important to me and any children I might have.”
“That’s a major consideration,” Jazzi assured Brie. “Finding my birth mother answered questions about why she gave me up. It also gave me a sense of my roots. Even more important, I had a chance to have someone else in my life who I could love and who loved me. It wasn’t easy at first, but I’m so glad I found her.”
All three were quiet for a few moments.
“Have you begun searching?” Dawn asked Brie after she finished her muffin.
As Brie removed her phone from her jeans pocket and opened it, she surprised Jazzi. “I actually have my biological father’s email address. We connected on the reunion website Bonds Forever. He now lives in Belltower Landing. I don’t know when he settled here or if he knew all along my adoptive parents live here.”
Jazzi had used that website when she was looking for her birth mother. But her birth mother hadn’t registered on it. Jazzi saw the phone screen Brie had brought up with the email address—JCOV@belltowerlink.com.
Brie was staring at the address as if realizing it held the answers to all of her questions. Finally she slipped her phone back into her pocket. “Thank you so much for talking with me. I think I’ve made a decision. I’ll email him tonight. But right now I have a date.”
“I hope we helped,” Jazzi said.
“You definitely did. After my date, I’ll think about exactly what I want to say in my email. When I decided I wanted to find someone and get married, I started using a dating app.”
“How’s it going?” Dawn wanted to know, looking curious.
Brie grinned. “It’s like constantly blind dating. You know a little from the guy’s profile . . .” She added a caveat. “If he’s honest.”
“Where do you meet up?” Dawn asked.
Brie pushed back her chair and stood. “Tonight I’m meeting him at Vibes.”
That restaurant was a popular and expensive one near the marina. “Good luck,” Jazzi wished Brie, meaning it.
Finding the right person to love was an adventure. She’d witnessed both her own widowed mother and her great-aunt go through it. Nevertheless, she didn’t believe she was ready for that adventure anytime soon.
After Brie had left, Dawn asked Jazzi, “Do you think we helped her?”
“We might have helped her sort some things in her mind. If she’s ready to email her dad, I guess we did.”
“But what if it doesn’t go well?” Dawn asked.
Knowing her friend as she did, Jazzi realized that was Dawn’s best reason for not trying to find her birth parents. What if it didn’t go well? What if they didn’t want her in their lives? What if her own parents wouldn’t accept that new relationship?
Jazzi had gone through all that. Fortunately for her, her mom had supported her decision. Would Dawn’s parents do the same? Jazzi wasn’t so sure.
Straightening up the tea bar, Jazzi picked up one of the little brown bags with their logo on the front that held loose tea. They had a display next to the muffin case where people could pick up the bags and buy them. Jazzi had been thinking about that and thought they could do better at making the tea more profitable.
“Dawn, what do you think about a different packaging for our teas?”
Dawn crossed over to the tea display. “What’s wrong with our packaging?”
“We want to increase sales, right?”
“That’s our aim.”
“I think different packaging could do it.”
“Different packaging could increase the expense of selling the tea,” Dawn reminded her.
“I know that. But the extra expense might be worth it, especially for tourist season.”
“What are you thinking of?”
After staring at their logo, Jazzi set down the bag. “What if we sold tea in cute little boxes?”
“How would a box be different from the bags?”
“More colorful, cuter, something somebody would pick up for a souvenir. What if we had a belfry box, a kayak box, a canoe box? Do you get my drift?”
“We wouldn’t be just selling tea, we’d be selling a keepsake. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Sure. Even kids might like those boxes after their parents use the tea. A parent might think about that. The belfry box especially would be a souvenir from Belltower Landing. In fact, maybe some other stores would pick it up and sell it in their stores too. Teas from Tomes and Tea sold in souvenir boxes.” Jazzi was getting excited about the proposition.
“You know, don’t you, that the box could be as expensive as the tea?”
“Maybe so. But think about selling them online too. We could offer them at our store website. We’d sell books and tea. We could even have boxes shaped like books. There’s a packaging company down by the docks. They make the candy shop’s boxes. I can make an appointment to discuss it with them. I don’t want to lose you as a partner.”
“I’ve been thinking about what we could do too,” Dawn said. “How about taking on an investor?”
Jazzi shook her head. “That has to be a last resort. You and I know what we want. We work well together. We have the same ideas.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” Dawn offered. “But we’ll see if Delaney comes through. And there is always that second option. . . you can date Theo.”
She could be tempted. But would she consider dating Theo to save Tomes & Tea?
* * *
If Jazzi and Dawn’s apartment followed any kind of design, it was probably bohemian Lakeview. Their couch, which was just long enough for one of them to stretch out on, was patterned in a fabric with a light blue background and little navy-blue triangles. They’d found it at a thrift store. The pillows on the couch were navy and white striped. The walls wrapping around the front windows were the palest, palest blue. They’d assembled art themselves. They’d found fabric by a well-known designer that was much too expensive to upholster with. It was an abstract of three sailboats on the horizon, with a magnificent sky of magenta tinged with gray. They’d attached the material around a canvas and had Derek frame it. It was striking over their couch. The wicker table underneath the canvas sported a lamp with a shade in striped navy and white like the pillows.
The living room wasn’t big. There was another funky yellow fabric-covered chair that was sometimes hard to get out of. The rug on the floor had been another flea market purchase and the Native American designs on it were encased in large squares. The rug had embodied all the colors in their room, from bright yellow to pale tan to white and navy. They’d painted the few kitchen cabinets navy and the space had just enough room for a whitewashed table with shelves on the side and two low-backed whitewashed chairs. They’d refinished the top of the table in navy.
Jazzi and Dawn had been roommates during their junior and senior years at college, so they knew each other’s likes and dislikes. Therefore, this apartment had been relatively easy. The two single-bedded rooms with the bathroom in between gave them privacy if not a whole lot of space. But they were okay with that. The building had a storage area in the basement that suited their sports needs. They stored their paddleboards there along with anything else they didn’t have room for in the apartment.
Now with supper put away, a veggie omelet paired with those corn muffins, Dawn sat stretched out on the sofa streaming a movie.
Jazzi called to her, “I’m going to take the trash down.”
They alternated chores and this was Jazzi’s week on trash duty. She collected it from their rooms into a large black bag and tied the strings. The door from their kitchen opened onto a small landing. Stairs that hugged the wall of the building stretched down to the alley below. Another set of stairs led from a door in Jazzi’s bedroom down to the storeroom of the bookstore.
As Jazzi stepped out onto the landing, she took a deep breath of the damp evening air. Setting down the trash bag, she turned toward the front of the building. She couldn’t see the marina and the docks. As she stared straight ahead, she could see the smoky shadows of the lake. Blue-green during the day with sparkles on its surface, at night it took on a mysterious quality with shades of gray. She couldn’t see the light from the top of the bell tower or the faint white glow from the lamp on the church’s steeple. She could see dots of light straight ahead on the lakeshore. Flashlights maybe? Reflective headgear from joggers?
She really did love living here with a constant influx of tourists and interesting people as well as the residents who called Belltower Landing their home all through the year. It was an unusual mix but one that made life interesting. As she stood there, hands on the small deck’s railing, she heard a sound but wasn’t sure what it was or where it came from. It sounded like . . . a cat . . . a kitten.
Jazzi and her mom had found two kittens in their garden and had kept them. They’d grown into Jazzi’s constant companions. She’d missed them when she’d gone to college.
Putting her hand through the red ties of the garbage bag, she pulled it along with her and raised it as she jogged down the stairs. The mewing became louder and more frequent.
Jazzi lifted the lid off the garbage can and dumped the bag inside, settling the lid firmly in place once more. Then she followed the plaintive sound to under the deck landing where a few empty cartons tumbled. The sound was pitiful and Jazzi moved the boxes to see what she would find, almost afraid to look.
A motion detector light under the deck went on as she moved around.
She spotted the tiny kitten who could fit in her hand.
“Where did you come from?” she asked softly, so as not to scare it.
The kitten looked up at her, ready to make a dash for anywhere but there. Before it could, Jazzi scooped it up and cuddled it into the crook of her arm. “No, you don’t,” she scolded. “You’ll only get lost or find trouble.”
The kitten looked up at her and meowed.
Jazzi guessed the little guy was about six weeks old. His basic coat of white fluffy fur as soft as cotton was patterned with dark gray designs from his ruff to his tail. His tail was shades of gray with a touch of brown. His face, white from his eyes to his chin, had black markings along his eyes that looked like eye liner. White streaked from his nose to the top of his head. What really got to her was the marking in the middle of his nose that looked like a heart.
Her heart melted. There was no question about what to do next. She was taking him up to the apartment with her. After running up the stairs, she let herself inside the apartment.
She said to Dawn, “I found something outside that I think we’re going to want to keep.”
Jazzi knew Dawn’s family had rescued cats, so she’d definitely understand. Jazzi brought the little ball of fur over to Dawn and it meowed at her friend.
“My gosh!” Dawn took him from Jazzi’s hands. “Is it a female?”
“Male, I think. Isn’t he just too cute?”
“He’s cute. But there are consequences to keeping him. Do you want a litter box in our laundry area?”
They used a stacked washer and dryer in a closet of sorts next to their bathroom. It didn’t have a door. But Jazzi could deal with that if Dawn could.
“That’s fine with me, but a litter box will have to be in the bathroom until we can get him checked out by a vet. Tonight we can set up a cardboard box with torn up newspaper inside.”
Dawn was as enamored with the little guy as much as Jazzi. She cooed to him and stroked his markings. “What are we going to feed him? The pet store will be closed.”
Considering their options, Jazzi made a suggestion. “The convenience store might have pet food. We can mince it up and mix it with water. I’ll take my bike and ride over there.”
“I’ll fix a bed while you do,” Dawn offered. “I’ll leave a message on my parents’ vet’s answering machine and maybe we’ll get an appointment with Tom Lee tomorrow.”
“Sounds good,” Jazzi decided, leaving her sandals by the kitchen door and changing into her sneakers that she kept there.
Jazzi’s Mini Cooper sat in the detached garage out back along with Dawn’s SUV. She didn’t use it often, though, because she mostly rode her bike. That was more economical and good exercise. She’d started riding when she was a teen. The wind in her hair and motion of the wheels also helped her clear her head. She slid the wooden garage door to one side. She and Dawn had to take turns moving that door back and forth to drive their cars in and out. She definitely had more room on her side of the garage because of the size of the compact white car with a black top.
Quickly, she moved her bike away from the wall and wheeled it to the alley out back. Closing the door again, she headed to the convenience store on Black Rock Road. Steering away from the lake, she quickly covered the few blocks to the Stop & Go and propped her bike outside. The convenience store was open all night. Inside, it only took Jazzi a few minutes to find what she wanted. The store even had a small section with kitten canned food. That was perfect. She also picked up a pouch of dry food. She could mix that with water and crumble it if she needed to.
She’d paid and was on her way out when she recognized the woman who was approaching the entrance. “Hi, Brie. Imagine seeing you here.”
“Same,” Brie said. Her messy ponytail blew in the wind. “Last-minute snack?” she asked with a smile.
“No, I found a kitten and Dawn and I are going to keep him. We needed a few supplies.”
“I’m just picking up milk and eggs. I’m glad I ran into you, though. How would you like to come over for a light supper tomorrow night? I emailed my bio dad and he invited me to his home on Friday evening. I have some questions about the first time I see him. You’ve gone through it with your birth mother. Maybe you could help me prepare?”
“I’d be glad to help you if I can. I think Dawn’s busy tomorrow night—dining with her parents.”
“That’s fine. You’re the one I really need to talk to. How’s eight o’clock?”
“That sounds good,” Jazzi agreed. “I’ll see you then.”
After Brie went inside the store, Jazzi dumped her bag into the rear basket on her bike. She didn’t know if anything could prepare an adoptee for that first meeting. Brie would surely find that out.