Font Size
Line Height

Page 10 of Intoxicating Pursuit

The Light of Day

SAMMY

S unlight streamed through my bedroom's dormer windows, beaming directly into my wine-soaked brain. Burrowing under my blankets offered little relief. Evidently, getting up to close the blinds or simply starting my day were the only choices.

I stretched my arms over my head, trying to ease the kinks out of my back. My body ached with exhaustion and dehydration. What on earth happened yesterday? Had that day even been real?

I sat up in bed, squinting around dumbly at my blindingly white room, the fog of morning still heavy in my mind. My laundry hamper overflowed; the space was disheveled from a busy week, and a metallic gift bag shimmered on my desk.

I jolted awake.

If I’d harbored any doubts, here was evidence the events of yesterday had indeed taken place.

My first thoughts raced to Tina, all the others to Gabe.

Powerful memories flushed my skin with heat—his hand stroking my hair, his warm fingertips grazing my shoulder, the heft of his body as I helped him to the brewery.

However, the abrupt conclusion of the evening bit right on the heels of those pleasurable thoughts.

Rejection and embarrassment stung painfully.

Why did I think he would ask me to his room? I’m such an idiot.

Ugh. I rubbed my eyes and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My dad always used to say “Feet on the floor, girl. Move on.”

It was still good advice.

I toddled downstairs and found Mom hovering over the coffee maker as it steamed and sputtered through the last few drips of a brew cycle.

“Oh, thank goodness.” I stumbled over to grab two mugs.

“I don't suppose it's me you’re excited to see, or do I really rate second to hot coffee?” She took a mug from me and filled it.

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t rate second to hot coffee. I love you very much, and you know it.” I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then filled my cup as high as possible without creating a hazard. “You’re up early.”

“And you were up late. Your lights didn’t go off ’til after two. I thought I was gonna have to bail you and Tina out.”

I rolled my eyes again. “We somehow managed to avoid arrest. What were you doing up at two, anyways?”

“Who knows. But did you know you can stream old episodes of QuizShow? I may never sleep again.”

She was so silly.

“I’ll have to check that out.” A finch flitted past the window, to the bird feeder Mom always kept full. “I didn’t get anything done yesterday, though, so I might be a little chained to my computer today.”

“No worries. I’ve got a lot of planting to do, and I’m meeting my girlfriends for lunch. Maybe we can catch up over dinner?” She blew on the steaming mug of coffee, waiting patiently for it to cool down from its most scalding temperature.

“Sounds good. Is Meghan still asleep?”

“As far as I can tell, yes. Sleeping Beauty is still conked out.”

***

I crept back up the stairs to my room, sat at my desk, and made a list. I’d lost all of yesterday, and we had a big week coming up.

We were releasing a new seasonal beer on Friday—a scrumptious blueberry Hefeweizen—plus the new locations still needed a lot of extra care.

I settled in, got organized, and sipped the coffee greedily.

The first item on my to-do list was IT, which I could practically do in my sleep. Until the coffee kicked in, that was fitting. I pushed out a required system update, confirmed the firewalls and anti-virus programs hadn't flagged any problems, and ran a data backup. All was well, thank goodness.

Marketing came next. Our chef, Erin, had taken gorgeous, summery photos of the Hefeweizen set against our blooming gardens, and our social media management's software helped me transform the pictures and key promotional information into veritable art.

I fiddled too long with the details and font but eventually felt pleased with the result.

I timed the posts to hit the sweet spot for the East Coast and Midwest crowds, then moved on.

I monitored reviews next, thanked folks for the nicest ones, and took note of some negative comments.

One guest described Charlotte as filthy, and customers continued to express frustration over wait times in Cape May.

Before I posted replies, I wanted more context.

So, I emailed a few questions to Griffin Parker, our longtime leader in Cape May, and to Bobby Boone, the manager we’d hired to kick off Charlotte.

I also added “negative reviews” to the agenda of my “New Leaders” meetings with Bobby and his peer in Madison, Jesse Voss.

Last was finance, which was at least a familiar task.

June books were closed, and I started with the P&L.

It wasn’t quite where I’d hoped. Sales were down compared to forecast, and expenses were oddly high.

I squinted and checked again, but I hadn’t misread the numbers.

Not good, but probably not an emergency either.

With two new locations, we might experience variability while the new businesses stabilized.

The budget misses were yet another item to discuss with Jesse and Bobby.

The sun had climbed higher in the sky, and the hallway floorboards creaked faintly.

I turned in my chair and found Meghan leaning against the door frame.

She was dressed in her favorite pajama shorts and tank, and she yawned as she tugged her sleep-tousled red hair into a messy bun.

Like most normal people, she was a few inches shorter than me, but otherwise there was no mistaking her as my daughter.

She was pure McCallum. She squinched her dark brown eyes and pale freckled cheeks as she looked me over.

“You know, you’re staring at that laptop like you’re mad at it, Mom. ”

Her casual comment was a good sign. Hopefully, spending time with friends had softened her. “Morning, sweetie.” I got up and gave her a hug. “How was your day yesterday? Don’t think I saw you at all.”

“Fine. Some big drama with Marnie and Jason, but I think it’s handled.” She ambled over to my desk. “Really though, what’s wrong?”

I turned back to my computer. “Oh, nothing really. The new locations are throwing off the financials a bit. Or at least, I think that’s what’s happening. I’ll have to figure it out later.”

“Can I take a look? I loved my accounting class. I bet I could help.”

I glanced at the complex jumble of numbers on my screen. “Honey, I appreciate the offer, and I promise if I think of a good task for you, I'll ask. For now, though, I’m not even sure where to start.”

She turned away and walked downstairs without saying goodbye.

I sighed, went back to the last few tasks, and finally checked the almighty cash balance.

It was down by more than I would like—the second unusual finding for the day.

I normally had the cash forecast buttoned up tightly, but if sales and expenses were off, that might do it.

Of course, new businesses were less predictable than established ones, too.

It was another item I’d need to double check long-term.

We did have a credit line, so I wasn’t truly worried, but I’d rather not pay the interest rates.

I transferred some funds into the account, added that worry to my to-do list, and closed the computer for the morning.

***

D ownstairs, I found Meghan shuffling around the kitchen.

She spread cream cheese on a bagel and helped herself to a coffee before coming over to the island to sit.

Recent mail, along with other trappings of daily life, lay scattered about.

Meghan was an excellent student—and an even better soccer player—and the college mail piled up if we didn’t manage it.

Just glancing in the stack, I saw big names: Georgetown, Emory, Duke, Rutgers.

Any way you cut it, Meghan was a kid in demand.

The college mail was a nice complement, but risky territory, and I waded in cautiously. “Anything good today?”

She quit sifting through the glossy postcards. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

I shrugged. “I’m sure there could be a lot of great options.”

“For you ? Or for me ?” Heat flushed her cheeks instantly.

I should have kept my mouth shut. “ Both Meghan. I’m sure we can find both.”

“Disagree.” She glowered at me with hard eyes.

“I see nothing good you’d let me look at.

” She finished sorting through the letters, stuffed several in the trash, and stacked the remainder beside her bagel.

“But I like pointless endeavors, so maybe I’ll read them anyway.

” She disappeared with her breakfast, leaving a wake of negativity behind her.

Sometimes I thought if my business didn’t kill me, maybe my relationship with Meghan would. She was angry and frustrated a lot these days, and she let me know it. I put my head in my hands and waited for the moment to pass.

Then I remembered Tina. She had much worse problems, and I always found doing a kindness for someone else was the best way to quit fretting about my own troubles.

I set down my coffee, crossed to the pantry, and started dragging out big bowls, beaters, flour, and sugar.

Banana bread and cookies were in order, and I sent Tina a text:

Made it home safe and sound last night. Hope Nathan is feeling better. Hope you’re feeling strong. Comfort food is coming your way.

She sent back a hug emoji, and I got busy worrying about something more important than teenage power struggles.