Page 31 of Better Than Gelato (Ciao Bella #1)

Chapter Nineteen

“H ey Juls, do you have a minute?”

My brother’s voice doesn’t sound panicked, but I can’t help but hold the phone tighter, anticipating bad news.

“Yeah, I’ve got a minute.” I put down the shirt I was folding and sit on my bed. “Is everything okay? How’s Dad?”

“He’s fine. I just wanted to talk to you about the plans for this fall.”

I let out a relieved breath, but my stomach tightens thinking of running the shop in a few short months.

“I already talked to Brianna,” I say. “I told her I’d do it.” I pick up my shirt and start folding again.

“Well, I may have found a way you don’t have to.”

“What?” I sit up straighter. “Really?”

“It’s still early, and I can’t tell you details, but I wanted to make sure you enroll in your classes. Just in case this works out.”

Brad has always been especially sweet about me going to school. I think because he would have liked to himself, but didn’t get the chance.

“Okay,” I say, the tiniest shred of hope springing up in me. “I will.”

* * *

I’ve never seen a flamingo try to line dance, but I’m nearly certain it would look like this. It’s our Thursday Dance Party, and I’m teaching Isa the “Cotton Eye Joe” dance. She’s hopping around the living room on her little stick legs, and I’m trying my best not to laugh.

My phone rings, and I turn the music down a notch and move into the kitchen. Isa keeps dancing with a look of concentration on her face and the grace of a skinny pink bird.

“Dad! How are you? How’s the hip?” I’ve talked to my parents more in the last three weeks than I have in the whole seven months I’ve been here.

“Juls, I’m doing great. And my hip’s doing great. I’m going to put you on speakerphone, we’ve got some big news to share!”

I hear my mom’s voice. “Juliet! How are you?”

“I’m doing great. Dad says you have news.”

“We sure do,” my mom says. “Go ahead and tell her, hon.”

“Well, it started a couple weeks ago,” my dad begins. My dad is a good storyteller, but not a fast storyteller. I make myself comfortable.

“Do you know that bike shop that burned down a few years back?” my dad asks.

“Yes…” I’m trying to figure out where this is going when my mom exclaims, “We’re selling the business!” Her voice is filled with glee.

I hear the words, but it doesn’t compute.

“What? Really? Why?” I ask.

“Because life is short,” my dad says. “We’re ready for less working and more living.”

This does not sound like my dad. This sounds like a motivational poster.

“Are you sure you didn’t bump your head during that fall?” I ask.

My dad laughs. “My head feels great. But my fall did put some things in perspective.”

“Dad’s been spending three days a week at physical therapy,” my mom says. “I think all the old retirees there talked him into it.”

“But how? Brianna said you guys tried a few years ago, and the business wasn’t…um, it wasn’t worth much.”

“Well, Brianna’s right,” my dad says. “But when Brad came down a few weeks ago to help out, he commented on how much this area has changed. That sad old mechanic shop got bought up and turned into a salon. And they rebuilt the bike shop that burned down a few years back, and it sells these fancy electric bikes now. So Brad started talking to some real estate people…”

I listen as he lays out the whole thing.

The equipment and customer list are not worth much, but the building, which my dad bought twenty years ago, has skyrocketed in value.

The location is going through something of a renaissance and investors are coming in and buying everything they can.

High-end restaurants and spas are popping up all along the block.

“We’ve gotten a very generous offer from a gentleman who’s going to turn it into a luxury coffee house,” my dad says. “He says Mom and I can have free coffee anytime we want!”

“I think he’s more excited about the free coffee than the buyout!” my mom says.

My brain can hardly believe what it’s hearing, but my heart is leaping with excitement.

“We’re getting more than we ever imagined!” my mom says.

My mom’s always seemed happy with her life, but there’s a lightness in her voice that’s new. The lightness of freedom.

“We’re signing all the papers next week, but we wanted to talk to you first,” my dad says.

“I know we’ve always said we’d turn the business over to you after graduation.

As you know, I didn’t start out with much.

And I always wanted to be able to pass something on to my kids, so they wouldn’t have to start from scratch. ” My dad’s voice cracks with emotion.

“We’ve had some rough years, but I’ve tried to hang on, tried to keep things running until we could pass it on to you. I knew you could turn this place into more than I ever did.” There’s a little sniffle before he continues. “And then Mom talked to me after she got back from Italy.”

“I saw how much you loved taking pictures,” my mom says.

“I’m sure you always have, but with the kids and the chaos, we missed it.

When it was just the two of us, it was obvious.

You light up when you take pictures, Juls.

And the way you talk about photography, well, you don’t talk about business that way.

I feel like an idiot for being so slow to see it, but is photography what you really want to do with your life? ”

I’m laughing and crying and barely know how to respond. “Yes,” I finally blurt. “I didn’t want to let you guys down. But yes.”

“Oh, Juls, you could never let us down,” my mom says. “We are so proud of you. We never meant to make you feel like you had to take over the shop or carry that burden.”

“Absolutely not,” my dad says. “We want you to be free to follow your own path. And we know you’ll do great.”

“Thank you, Dad,” I say, still in disbelief.

“So we have your permission to sell?” he asks. I can tell from his voice he’s smiling.

“You don’t need my permission, Dad. But yes, you have it.”

Can this really be happening?

“What are you guys going to do?” I ask.

“Whatever we want!” my mom says, and she sounds like a little kid on the first day of summer.

“Dr. Bartlett has invited me fishing next week,” my dad says. “So I may have a new hobby.”

“And I think I might visit Brianna and her kiddos in Washington,” my mom says. “I think she could use a hand.”

“I’m so excited for you guys!” I say.

“We’re excited for you, Juls,” my dad says.

When I hang up the phone I can’t move. I stare at the wall replaying the conversation in my head.

For the first time everything I’ve ever wanted is right there for the taking.