I’d agreed to drive with Dexter to the little town of Baker to pick up a bunch of vintage baking tools from an estate sale. It’s my spring break and George happily agreed to work at the shop while we took the overnight trip. We’d spent the night before in a little hotel with surprisingly clean rooms and an amazing room service. We relished in the privacy and being with one another—just happy to be with one another. Now we’re headed back to Lee Vines through Death Valley.
When we emerge on the west side of the desert, Dexter says, “There’s one last thing I need to show you.”
We roll through Mammoth Lakes, through the streets familiar to me from high school. We pass the downtown area, which is just two streets. The movie theater and the Diner. All places that bring back memories. High school seems like a million years ago. That one year I had here before I went to college, before my boys turned into men, when everything was harder and easier at the same time.
Dexter pulls the Jeep into a parking space in front of an empty storefront on the corner of Main Street and Second Avenue. The windows are partially covered in ancient newspaper, but some has fallen over time. The rest is thick with dust.
Confused, I look over at Dex, who’s holding a set of keys in his hand. Now I’m more confused. “What’s going on?”
“A few months ago, Sierra and I had to meet to go over some paperwork from my parents' estate.”
“How is she?”
“Good, things seem to be really going smoothly for her.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” There had been a lot of changes in Sierra’s life over the last few years. Surprising changes that I understood more than anyone. Sometimes you have to find your tribe—and for Dexter’s sister, that came from an unexpected place. “What kind of paperwork?”
“I’d always known there was some kind of trust set up following their death. Something I couldn’t have access to until I either went to college or turned twenty-one. At the time, I didn’t think much about it. Probably because I was too filled with anger about the whole thing and Sierra certainly never mentioned it. My parents weren’t wealthy people—not that I knew of. What I didn’t realize was that they had substantial assets in property and investments. There was also a large insurance payout.” He takes a deep breath. “Sierra used some of the money early on to pay off the mortgage for the Wayward Sun, and then was given a stipend to care for me, but now that I’m twenty-one, the rest of my money is available to me.”
“Oh,” I say, not sure how much money it is and what this means for him. “It stinks to know why you have this money, but it’s al
so good to have security.” Something always just out of reach for Dexter.
He nods. “It is. When Sierra and I met up, I told her that I wanted to expand to another location. Something bigger where I can have a bigger kitchen for the bakery. She thought it was a good idea and suggested down here. She also offered me the chance to buy into the Wayward Sun up in Lee Vines. Fifty-fifty.”
“So actual ownership.”
“Yeah.” He looks at me like he really wants my opinion. I don’t mind giving it to him. “I found this place. It’s perfect for a new coffee shop and bakery. It’s going to take a chunk of change to get it up to code and make the kitchen how I like it, but I think it can work.”
“So the Wayward Sun two?”
He nods at the street signs. “I’m thinking CrossRoads Coffee and Bakery.”
I smile. It’s the perfect name.
“I think it’s a great idea. You’ve basically run that place on your own for the last four years anyway and expanding sounds smart.” I take his hand. “You’re a smart businessman and baker. I think you can pull this off.”
He kisses my palm and I feel a tingle down my arm, pulsing to my heart.
“There’s something else.”
I raise an eyebrow. “More?”
“I want you and the guys to have a piece of this new place. Without you all, I would still be running around, getting into fights. At best I’d be a deadbeat stoned out of my mind, accomplishing nothing. Worst, in prison.”
“Have you told the guys yet?”
He shakes his head. “I wanted to ask you first.”
This proposal is big—it’s tying us all together just as we’re about to embark on the future. In some situations, I can see this is where a girl would run. But I’m not that girl. I don’t run anymore. I’m anchored to this man next to me and the three others back home. We’ve survived a lot in the last five years and I have no doubt we’re stronger today than ever before.
I smile and say, “I’m in. I think they will be, too.”
His gray eyes light up with relief, happiness. “Do you want to see it?”
“The business I just agreed to own?” I ask. “Of course, I want to see it.”
We get out of the car and meet at the door, the keys still tight in his hand. He holds them up, offering them to me and I don’t hesitate, slipping them in the lock.