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A crisp wind swept through the open door. It wound its way past the checkers tables, the black potbelly stove, and old wooden bookshelves. It smelled of leaves, which mingled with the heady scent of new books, pumpkin spice, and coffee. Captain, the shop's orange tabby cat, lifted his sleepy head from his sundrenched, plaid, pillow-throne in the window to blink adoringly, as if to say, "Man, this fall stuff is great."
I paused for a moment as I loaded up the Bitter Bean's pastry case with little cupcakes I had draped with white fondant to look like ghosts. I drank in the feeling of autumn and just smiled. Life was good.
My name is Paige Comber. My dream had always been to travel to Paris and learn all the tricks of the trade so I could come back and open a place just like Bitter Beans. It's funny how life decided to hand me a shortcut instead. Back in June, my mom sent me to work in my grandmother's coffee shop here in the tiny island village of Seaside. She thought it would make me run screaming. Instead, it just made me love baking more. Last month, Granny made me co-owner of Bitter Beans and suddenly, my dream was realized. I was now the head baker as Granny started handing things over, and spent more of her time finding the perfect space for an historical museum she and her fiancé dreamed of opening. And also, plan for their dream wedding in the spring.
And it didn't hurt that Seaside was also home to a really great guy named Nate. We had been seeing each other since practically the first day he set foot on the island and life with him couldn't be better. My mom had shown up last month, ready to haul me home. But faced with having to leave Seaside, it just made me realize how much I wanted to stay here forever.
Plus, it was my first October on the island. When I was little, Mom and I would spend the summer helping Granny out, but school always reared its ugly head and called me home. I was stuck trudging my way through Faulkner while everyone else had all the fun.
But not this year. This year, I got to start celebrating Halloween from Day One, and there were still thirty days left to enjoy.
The wind toyed with the paper bats I had cut out and hung from the ceiling, causing them to swing. It rustled the fake cotton cobwebs that now covered our normally meticulously dusted shelves. Battery-powered candles flickered between our books, I hoped luring casual readers over to find out what was so illuminating. I had even changed out our tourist guides and beach reads with tales of all the ghosts supposedly haunting this old village.
And then, my bakes.
This was the part I was most proud of.
I had dipped apples in caramel and rolled them in Halloween sprinkles. I had dunked pretzel sticks in green chocolate to make monster fingers. I had even created little werewolf cake pops decorated with coconut fur. Granny might be looking to open a museum, but I felt like I had my own little gallery of art in the display case.
I closed up the mirrored door and gazed upon my creations. There was a feeling that bubbled up in my chest, a foreign sensation. And then I realized I was proud. In fact, when I took in the entire shop, softly allowing myself to admire everything I had done, yes, I was proud. This shop was everything I could hope for and I had done right by it. It was a success because of my contributions, and that wasn't nothing.
Captain lifted his little orange head again and gave a little "meow" as if to say he was proud of me, too.
"Thank you, Captain, my captain," I said, giving him a little bow as I dusted off my hands.
Our mutual admiration society was interrupted, though, as Granny and her Posse power-walked into the store. She had three best friends, Wanda, Marnie, and Holly, who were fellow shop owners on Main Street. They had been meeting up every day for years to take a morning hike around the town before the ferry came in, and were better than a newspaper for staying informed on Seaside events.
"Paige! I need a refill!" called Wanda, coming over as she took the lid off a purple thermos mug that read 'Witch's Brew'. She had gotten into the holiday spirit, too, from a black t-shirt bedazzled with white rhinestone ghosts saying "Booooo-tiful" to her orange-dyed, spiky hair.
I reached out and smiled. "What's the morning report from the Seaside posse?"
Holly leaned against the counter, blinking behind her thick, owl-like spectacles. Secretively, she shared, "Well, I hear that someone may have found the perfect home for the new historical society." Then she pointed at my pastry case. "And I'm going to need you to bribe me with one of those pumpkin cream cheese frosted cookies if you want any more information."
Granny laughed. "Holly! You're leaking the news like a joke wineglass!"
"By the by, I ordered some of those for my shop," Wanda informed me, "in case you hear of anyone wanting to do some tricks this season. They're next to the pile of rubber spiders and whoopee cushions."
"Well, I'm going to need one of those cookies, too, to maintain my strength after this morning's forced march," said Marnie. She flicked her long, gray braid over her shoulder. "And I have to say, I think your Granny is a little jealous of how pretty Holly's general store is with the renovations. A little competition seemed to up the ante. I think she's getting serious about this museum."
Holly was in the process of renovating her shop, changing it out from a 1970s laminate and linoleum wonderland to a modern throwback to a turn-of-the-century vibe. The store's walls were already covered in white subway tiles, and the black cabinetry, dark hardwood floors and iron fixtures were on their way. It wasn't done yet, but it was already so much prettier.
In the process of her renovations last month, though, we had discovered a lost treasure in her walls and the need for our little town to have a museum. And, as luck would have it, Granny's fiancé, Richard, had always dreamed of curating such a space. They had been searching for the perfect spot for the past couple weeks. On an island as small as ours, unfortunately it was slim pickings. There hadn't even been a hint of any residents pulling up roots and moving to the mainland. Granny and Richard had gotten so desperate as to suggest bringing in some double-wide trailers until a building opened. Both Granny and Richard nixed it almost as soon as the suggestion emerged from their lips, but that was the level of need they were feeling. So, for them to have found a potential space was fabulous.
"Where?" I asked. I handed Wanda her refill and grabbed some bags for the baked bribes.
"Well," said Granny, "Over by the Grand Hotel, there is the hardware shop. You know. The one owned by Ralph."
All the women in Granny's posse nodded their heads with excitement. I, personally, only had a passing acquaintance with Ralph, but had been inside his shop a couple times when we needed duct tape.
Granny leaned in to share the secret. "A little bird told us that he's thinking he is ready to retire and his building will be going up for sale." She gave me a hopeful smile, like she couldn't believe the luck. "Richard just happened to be coming over on the morning ferry for a visit. I can hardly wait to show him!"
"That is fantastic!" I exclaimed as I used the tongs to gently lift out the cookies for Holly and Marnie. "Way to get in before anyone else hears the news!"
Wanda struck a glamorous pose. "Knowing things before anyone else is what we do best."
Granny laughed and then asked me, "Want to close up for a few minutes once the morning rush is done and check it out with us?"
"Absolutely!" I said, handing over the treats.
"It could be so perfect," Holly remarked, biting the head off her bat cookie. "Lovely tall ceilings, beautiful old building, and in a prime location. I just hope no one else hears about it before your Granny can snatch it up."