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“That’s… legitimately not a terrible idea,” Niall admitted. “Plus, Gavin’s been desperate to direct a show for the Paper Bag Players, but they won’t budge. Directing a themed night might give him a chance to show off a little? Prove himself?”

“There you go. Less work for you, and you’d be giving him a spotlight. I bet he’d throw in some flowers—whatever he’s got left at the end of his workday—to glam the store some. A little cross-promotion, huh? Then I bet some of the food places along there would help cater, or cut you a deal.”

“Gavin’s been pestering me about doing some window display craziness too.”

“What’s stopping you? He’s got an eye for razzle-dazzle, and your windows could use the love.” Chuck leaned forward, warming to the topic. “The way I see it, the internet’s done this horrible thing to us, cutting us all off in our little silos.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Of course not. Businesses need people. We’ve forgotten, but that’s why there are sidewalks. Houses had porches for a reason. Stores have windows to invite you inside.”

“I think that’s why the tourists drive so much of the traffic in town. Gavin talks about this. He’s got some rich regulars who cover his bills, but over half his business is day-trippers and weekend getaways.”

Chuck put his hands behind his head, elbows wide and eyes bright.

Niall pointed an onion ring at him. “Smart. Scary smart. You’re phenomenal at this, you know. You should start a service.”

“No way, man. You’re my only client. I like using my hands. I’m trying to help you. That’s all I care about.” A brief pause as they both realized what he’d said out loud but neither said boo about it. “In all this, I mean. Fixing it for you.”

“We do need people. All of the owners on the block drop in on each other because we feel so cut off.” For the first time in months, Niall let himself picture the store full on a Saturday. “You really think these things could help?”

“Worth trying. What’s the harm? No worse than giving up and selling insurance. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could waste time and resources on weird promotions and cheesy gimmicks, hastening our complete ruin, and Celeste reopens the store as an overpriced wellness scam.” Niall frowned comically. “Too real?”

Chuck rolled his eyes. “Always the optimist. Look, nothing can save the store as a solo effort. But fun, positive attention might bring in some new customers, generate some traffic, encourage some happy buzz. And that’s a start.”

“Jeez. I don’t know.” Niall blanched. “How much would catering cost. Or costumes? I mean, it sounds cool, but how? That sounds like a lot.”

“Niall, come on. What could the whole thing cost? Two grand? Five grand? I could put that on a card. Hell, I’ll give you the money just to see you smile.” He winked. “Honest to Christmas.”

“No, sir.”

Chuck sat back as if stunned. “I mean it.”

“Likewise. I’m not letting you throw money at my stupidity. That’s crazy.”

“I already have. Am. Could be I’m an egomaniac and I want to show off my mad carpentry skills.”

“Touché.” Niall pushed his plate away, fizzing with the possibilities now. “Let’s do it. All of it. The treehouse, the window display, the Shakespeare sex poems, the social whatever Tok-Book thing. What have I got to lose at this point?”

“Amen,” Chuck said with a grin. “Embrace the chaos.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. Let’s call it… desperate experimentation in the face of looming catastrophe.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, my man.”

Chuck paused and looked out over the water. The sundown wind blew his light brown curls to the side, exposing the smooth planes of his brow, the impossible eyelashes. “First time I kissed a boy was in this parking lot. Right there.” He nodded across the lot at a dumpster next to a sycamore tree. “I didn’t even like boys, and he wasn’t nice. All of a sudden, he looked so hot that I leaned in and did it.”

“Oh yeah?” Niall held his breath.

“Miguel Ochoa. Was I stupid! He punched me so hard I woke up half an hour later in the back of Trey Pulaski’s pickup. At least nobody called me nothing gross. He just didn’t want to kiss me. Plus, he had a serious girlfriend, and who the hell did I think I was? Fair enough.”

“Sorry.”

Chuck shrugged and bumped their shoulders. “Don’t be. I could have made better choices most of my life.”

“Same.” Niall nodded.