Page 103 of Just for Tonight

No real estate. That makes me feel a little better.

“How many clothes do you have?” I ask.

“A lot but not enough. I’ll need to buy more, and I’ll need a little van so I can do pop-up markets and take my inventory with me. It’ll be so cute, but I only have twenty bucks. I don’t need a lot to get started but I need more than that.”

“And so you’ve come to me.”

“Money is your thing, Jake.”

That’s fair. Money is my thing.

In the moment that I nod agreement, Madison pulls out her phone. “I made a list of all the critical expenses necessary to get started. I can run the business out of my bedroom, at least until the house is sold, and I can use the internet there free. Mom said it would be okay. I might move into Dad’s study to spread things out and photograph them. Here’s the monthly cost of the online store, and here’s the cost of the domain name, and my socials are all free. I’d like to print some business cards, so I got a price from the printer in Havelock, and my friend April can do the design for me. She’ll do it free if I give her a discount on a dress of mine she wants. There’s a big show here next month for vintage clothes and I contacted them, asking to be a speaker. They won’t pay me, but they’ve seen my socials and offered me a slot. It’ll be great visibility.” She falls silent then and bites her lip. “I just need a little help, Jake.”

I look at Mackenzie and she widens her eyes slightly, a silent appeal that gets me right where I live.

Message received. Here’s another chance to be kind.

Here’s a chance to be a hero to somebody.

“How big is the market for vintage clothes?” I ask because I have to say something.

“Huge,” Madison says, flicking to another display on her phone. She shoves it toward me. “Look at the attendance numbers for that show. I know I can’t afford to be a vendor this year, but that’s one of my goals.”

“Your closet can’t be that big,” I deadpan and her smile flashes.

“Not quite, but there are garage sales and estate sales like crazy around Empire, and I’ve found good things there myself.”

I hold up a finger, my decision made, then choose a number on my phone. The pair of them watch me expectantly, like I’m going to conjure a rabbit out of a hat.

I kind of am.

“Devon, how are you?” I say when she answers.

“Jake Cavendish. Oh my God! How are you? Where are you? Why are you calling me on a Wednesday morning?”

“Just wondering what you’ve got on the block today. Mind if I put you on speaker? There’s someone here I want you to meet.”

I went to university with Devon, who works in Foreclosure & Liquidation for a big accounting firm. She became a Chartered Accountant, and now sells stuff that banks repossess. A bit late, I hope she doesn’t try to sell me a red Audi but que sera sera.

“No problem. Today, I have a lovely Piper Twin aircraft, in need of an engine overhaul but otherwise in great shape. Sky blue interior, so it would match your eyes.”

“Irresistible,” I say. “Yet I resist.”

“See how you are?” She is undeterred. “And I have the chattels of a make-your-own beer place, as well as about two hundred starter kits.”

“Not so much into beer.”

“You never were. I also have all of the equipment from a four-colour printing house, including light tables, a horizontal camera, two printing presses and a whole lot of other goodies. One stop shopping if you’re going into that business.” She sighs. “But no sailboats, Jake, good, bad or indifferent. Not this week. Sorry.”

Mackenzie’s eyes widen again, proof that she noticed the mention.

“Damn,” I say. “I was hoping.”

“You always are. Now, who do I get to meet?” Devon demands.

“Mackenzie Rhodes, general manager of Rhodes Vineyard, and my sister, Madison Cavendish. Madison is planning to start a vintage clothing resale business and Mackenzie drove her into the city to talk to me.”

“Oh, oh, oh,” Devon coos. “You remember.”