“That’s very, extremely illegal,” Elijah deadpanned before continuing. “You could do a GoFundMe. I mean, you do run a business for the kind of people who have enough disposable income to spend an extended Christmas vacation at a full-service inn every year.” He paused and then pointed out, “Also, GoFundMe is legal.”
“Y’all definitely could ask these people for help. All the old families and the Bloomers.” Cole had leaned forward on his forearms. “They would want to help you. And, Miri, it would serve your dad right for once again assuming that you have no support.”
Hannah ran her hands through her hair. “What if we don’t make the money? I’m not ruling it out, because it’s a lot of people’s livelihoods at stake. I don’t want to gamble the rest of our careers on the hope that the Bloomers would make it happen. I think we should do a GoFundMe, and also something else.”
“I’ll sell the paintings,” Miriam said. Cole was right—it made sense. Even though she wanted to hoard them and not let them out of her sight, if she sold them now, it would be her decision, her agency. The idea that it might piss her dad off was also, admittedly, delightful.
“You will not!” the rest of the kitchen chorused back at her.
Elijah looked startled to find that he had joined the response. “Sorry, that’s not legal advice. I simply think your dad is a shitweasel and you should keep your paintings.”
“I’m sorry, I told them,” Ziva explained. “I know it’s really your story, but I felt they could make better choices with more context. I should have asked you first.”
Miriam shook her head. “I’m relieved that I don’t have to explain it, honestly.” It was freeing not to be guarding that secret anymore.
They all looked at each other for a long time. The enormity of the situation was sinking in. Miriam kept trying to get Noelle to meet her eyes, but she just stared down at her hands, her face a stone mask.
“I have an idea,” Noelle said finally, her arms crossed protectively. Miriam looked up at her hopefully, but Noelle was looking at Hannah. “Since Miriam is intent on donating her artistic talent to this problem”—her voice was so cold when she said Miriam’s name, and Miriam’s hope died—“we could have a New Year’s Eve party. A big, fancy shindig. There would be an auction. Enough old and new stuff to get people interested.”
Mrs. Matthews nodded, and Hannah started to take notes. “Expand this vision for me, NoNo.”
Noelle started to pick up steam, counting on her fingers. “We’d livestream the event, and items would be available for internet bids and in-person bids. Miriam could auction off a series of personalized art pieces, made specifically for the auction winners.”
Miriam shifted forward in her seat. She’d never thought about offering personalized commissions. It could make a lot of money.
“The final item would be one, and only one, Mimi Roz painting, the one Miriam likes the least,” Noelle continued. “We would have to let the guests know what’s going on. Not all of it, obviously, but enough to know they’re supporting the future of Carrigan’s. With an accompanying GoFundMe for people who just want to donate.”
“That’s brilliant,” Hannah told her. Everyone nodded. “But it’s only five days until New Year’s Eve.”
“I’m on Bloomer duty.” Cole saluted. “They love me.”
“I already told them I was going to have a big live event on New Year’s Eve, back when I thought I was launching the store,” Miriam said, “and I never actually remembered to cancel because I was so caught up in everything. Which works out great! Now I’ll have a slightly more panic-driven New Year’s Eve live event.” She managed to sound only a little hysterical.
“No, you know what,” Noelle said, hitting the table for emphasis, “wewillbe launching your store. This isn’t just the way for us to save Carrigan’s short-term, but to kick off Carrigan’s All Year in a big way, for the future.”
“YES!” Miriam picked up Noelle’s thread, excited at the picture taking shape in her head. “We’ll have every Bloomer in the country on a livestream. We lean hard into the next chapter of Blum Again. Studio space, storefront, and vacation packages where art lovers can come visit the artist’s residence and see where I get my inspiration. Day trips to visit Advent and Carrigan’s, including a shopping tour. Pop-up events at the diner and the bar.”
“We’re going to be announcing a whirlwind of new, and we’ll kick it off with the biggest sale of Miriam Blum art in history. This isn’t panic. This is opportunity,” Hannah finished and fist-bumped Miriam.
Miriam’s eyes welled up, her last emotional dam cracking at Noelle putting all their hopes for the future of Carrigan’s in her art. She wanted to believe this meant that Noelle understood that Miriam had just temporarily panicked, but when she tried again to catch Noelle’s eye, to let her see how much it meant to her, Noelle still wouldn’t look up.
“This idea is amazing,” Elijah said, “and absolutely has a chance of being wildly successful. But…” He paused, spreading his hands.
“But we can’t do this ourselves,” Hannah said, nodding. She looked at Mr. and Mrs. Matthews. “Do you think Esther and Joshua will help save Christmasland? Again?”
“It’s their home, too.” Mr. Matthews nodded. “They’ll be here.”
Miriam looked between Hannah and the Matthewses. “If it’s really all hands on deck and every Matthews, do we call Levi back?”
Hannah blanched, then nodded. “I don’t know where he is or whether he can get here in time, but if you can find him, you can ask him.”
“You can’t.” Mr. Matthews shook his head, his eyes sad. “I do know where he is, and it’s on an Australian cooking competition. He’s unreachable. His phone was taken away until he gets eliminated.”
“Which he won’t,” Noelle grumbled, “because he sold his soul to a crossroads demon for his culinary talent.”
“We are going to talk about the utterly wild information you just gave me at a later date,” Hannah told Mr. Matthews, shaking her head as if to clear it. “Right now we have less than a week to plan the biggest party of our lives.”
“Okay,” Cole said, practically bouncing in his chair. “Let’s do this. What’s next?”