He gave me a crooked smile. “She would know.”
“Baby steps,” I said. “I still can’t believe I have caterers.”
Two weeks before the grand opening, I’d received a letter in the mail with a French postmark. Inside was a fancy gold voucher for Elite Eats and a note.
Dearest Shiloh,
I hope you’ll accept this small gift with my congratulations. (I’m only ever allowed to pay for the food.)
I wish you the best and every success.
Regards,
Your Holden
Ps. Tell Wentz I’ll never forgive him for what he did and that I love him for it too.
I didn’t know what the postscript meant except Ronan had facilitated a meeting with Holden and River Whitmore before Holden disappeared. I hadn’t known that there was something between Holden and the quarterback of the football team in the first place; Ronan had kept Holden’s confidence about it, which made me love him more.
That night, at the mention of caterers, Ronan’s lips drew down. “It means Holden’s alive, at least.”
I tucked my arm in his, wishing I had the words to ease his mind. Holden leaving suddenly hurt him worse than he let on, especially on the heels of Miller’s departure for Los Angeles. The Lost Boys were scattered, and it was looking like they wouldn’t be reunited any time soon.
Bertie brought Bibi over to me, and my great-grandmother took my arm. “If you’ll excuse me, Ronan, darling, I must have a word with this girl.”
“Of course.”
He moved off and my heart swelled to see Uncle Rudy and Aunt Bertie take possession of him, peppering him with questions.
Bibi’s eyes were shining. “I am so proud of you, I can’t stand it. This old heart of mine feels like it’s going to burst.”
“It had better not,” I said, her emotion trying to pull out mine.
She leaned into me and I smelled her jasmine perfume. “I know Marie is being Marie. And I know a lot of what’s happening tonight is because you’ve been trying to make her see you. But don’t let her dim your shine, baby. Tonight is your night. We all see you. I see you, Shiloh. And I know that’s not the same as a mama’s love, but I hope it can make up for what you’re missing.”
“God, Bibi,” I breathed, hugging her fiercely. “None of this would have happened without you. So long as you’re proud”—I swallowed hard—“nothing else matters. Nothing.”
Bibi dabbed her eyes with a Kleenex from her pocketbook. “Now look at me. I’m a mess.”
“No, you’re perfect,” I said. “And you always have been.”
From beside me, June delicately cleared her throat. “We’re ready.”
I turned to see that night had fallen and that there was more than a small crowd of nicely dressed people gathered outside the shop.
“Are they…?” I cleared my throat and tried again. “Are they here for me?”
June beamed. “Shiloh, you are open for business.”
The grand opening was everything I’d hoped it would be and better than I’d imagined. The crowds flowed in and out, sampling the exquisite appetizers and sipping wine circulated by a waiter on a tray. The store was tiny, but people seemed happy to congregate outside, eating and drinking, then coming in as others left. Bibi and Bertie sat in folding chairs on the sidewalk, catching up, while Rudy took my mom for a walk downtown.
Amber and some other friends from school stopped by to congratulate me, and a journalist interviewed me between customers, though I hardly had time to talk. Letitia turned herself into a saleswoman, engaging customers with so much enthusiasm and charm, they could hardly resist her. Ronan replaced sold items with inventory from the back, so none of the displays were empty for long.
Hours later, the last customer left, telling me she thought this shop was just what Santa Cruz needed. “The tourists are going to leave here with something earthy and beautiful to remember the city by.”
Hope swelled to help mute the anxiety that was starting to creep in. Not every day would be a grand opening. I was going to have to work my ass off to stay afloat.
But I’m ready for that too.