Inheritance for Christmas (Holly Ridge Christmas #1)

7. Avery

7

AVERY

I have a plan, but it’s a tentative plan, and now I have to figure out how to put it into action without any money.

The storm set me back even further financially, despite Blake’s generosity and doing his work for free.

I’ve doubled the ads in the Holly Ridge Times, and more business is flowing through day-to-day, but that’s proving to be a problem, too, because I can’t man the store and the tree farm at the same time, particularly when I’m not proficient in chopping down the trees yet.

Blake comes in early to cut down some trees for me, but some families want to pick their own. As much as I want the increase in business, the back and forth is creating more stress, and I consider hiring staff I can’t afford.

Blake sees my frustration mounting as the glass repairmen leave.

“You’re really taking it out on the floor with that broom,” he comments lightly. “Did it do something to offend you? Is it giving you splinters?”

I look up at him blankly. “What?”

“You’re sweeping the floor like it’s attacking you,” he says, gently taking the broom from my hands. “What’s going on?”

Sheepishly, I let him take the handle and exhale, but before I can answer, another car pulls up in the lot, refueling my anxiety.

“Hold that thought,” I tell him as a family of four wanders up the door and two squealing kids cry out about locating a perfect tree.

“Can we chop down our own?” the little girl demands. I cringe at the thought of taking her out there to do it, and Blake immediately sees my expression.

“You sure can,” he intercedes. “I’ll take you out myself, and we’ll hunt one down together.”

The father grins. “See? I told you we can do that here.”

I mouth a thank-you to Blake as he herds the family out toward the forest, and I flop back behind the counter, opening the laptop to look at my spreadsheet in dismay. It’s not a surprise, but I keep expecting a miracle every time, like every sale might put me ahead somehow. The numbers are still nowhere close to where I need them to be.

Another customer wanders through the front door, and I tense, hoping she’s not here for a tree with Blake already out, but to my relief, she’s more interested in my grandfather’s craft pieces. I settle back, watching as she ambles slowly through the rows, smiling softly as she fingers the items affectionately.

Again, I’m overwhelmed with a sense of grief over having to close down the storefront once all the pieces are sold.

It’s another loss of income, too. Am I in over my head? Is this all clinging to a pipe dream?

I shift my gaze away from the blonde and try to focus on the business plan instead. Eventually, she ventures toward the counter with two whittled animals in hand. Gushing over their sweetness, she murmurs how much her nieces will adore them.

“I’m trying desperately to steer away from all the commercialism of today’s world with Christmas gifts,” she explains. “The kids are so attached to their devices and video games. It’s refreshing to see these old-fashioned toys.”

I give her a weak smile, unsure of how her nieces would feel about that.

“You don’t see handmade woodwork like this anymore,” she sighs. “It’s really a lost art.”

“Tell me about it,” I agree sadly. “My grandad really did have a talent.”

“He’s missed,” she tells me, offering me a sympathetic smile. “He was a good soul, your grandfather.”

I sit forward, taking her in with renewed interest. “Did you know him well?”

An enigmatic smile touches her lips, and I take in her eclectic teal scarf, a faint whiff of patchouli radiating from her hair. “Well enough to know he was a good person. You’re Avery, right? His granddaughter? He talked about you a lot.”

My heart pangs as I nod, extending my hand. She takes it with an oversized wool mitt.

“I’m Sadie Brennan. I teach yoga over at the community center if you ever need some time to do something for yourself.” My eyebrows shoot up, and she laughs aloud at my expression. “Everyone looks at me like that when I offer, but you’d be surprised how good yoga can be for your mind and body. You feel like a whole new person afterward. I’ll give you your first session for free if you want to try it out.”

She winks at me. “Think about it. I’ll leave you my card.”

Withdrawing her hand, she reaches into her crossbody purse to pull out her wallet and leave me a card. I purse my lips, considering her words carefully. I’m not opposed to trying her class, but that’s not what interests me the most about Sadie Brennan.

“Thanks,” I tell her. “I’ll take you up on that.”

“I hope you do.”

She turns to leave with her purchases.

“You only have classes at the community center?” I blurt out as she heads toward the door.

Sadie pauses and glances back at me. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t have a private studio? Or work out of your house?”

She shakes her head. “No. I rent a room out of the community center. I don’t have enough business for a full studio yet, unfortunately. In a town of four thousand, I’m not sure that will ever be a reality. And my apartment isn’t really big enough to handle classes.”

I nod, a fission of excitement forming inside. “Okay. Thanks.” Holding up her card, I smile at her. “I’ll be in touch. Honestly.”

“You do that. Great meeting you, Avery.”

I like her vibe, her pleasant presence. And when Blake returns with the family a few minutes later, I’m in a much better mood, which he notices after loading their spruce onto their car.

“Is that all it took? Getting me out of the store?” he jokes. “You’re all smiles now.”

I show him Sadie’s card, my excitement still lingering. “Do you know Sadie Brennan?”

He nods, eying the business card. “I’ve seen her around. I’m not really the yoga type.”

“No? I thought you would be proficient in Downward Dog.”

Blake grins. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“What if we hosted classes here, at the farm?” I suggest. “Yoga or meditation classes, like a retreat. There could be art workshops, painting classes, things like that?”

He thinks about it, sitting on one of the stools behind the counter. “That could run year round,” he agrees. “But the barn would need to be outfitted with bathrooms, maybe even a kitchen, depending on what you want to do. It’s already heated, but it would need some upgrades inside. I suppose you would need permits to run classes like that.”

I bob my head, my mind spinning with the possibilities. “It could possibly be rented out as an Airbnb, too, if it’s not being used for workshops,” I add, my plan hatching more fully. “But that could be a true and steady income for the entire year, especially when the store gets shut down. In fact, the store itself could be turned into a studio once everything is sold, couldn’t it?”

Blake frowns slightly. “You’re shutting down the store?”

I stare at him. “How can I keep it open if I have nothing to sell?”

His mouth parts to respond, but the door opens again, and a couple enters, calling out to him as they do. “Blake! Hello!”

He stands to greet them, interrupting our conversation again. Behind them, another family enters, and I move to attend to them.

“If they want to cut down trees, we’ll all go out together,” Blake whispers to me before greeting his friends. “We’ll get you handling that saw like a pro.”

I snicker, but I don’t have a chance to respond before we’re overrun with customers, the small storefront crowded and separating us again.

I won’t get overwhelmed. This is what I wanted, I remind myself, but it’s hard not to be slightly stressed when it’s all coming on so fast. Then again, Christmas is on us. I better be prepared.