Page 24 of Puck Daddies

“How many people?” she asks.

“If I do this right, a lot,” I say.

She laughs. “I like the confidence. I can bring a table, three cases, and samples. I’ll be there at six thirty.”

“Done. Thank you.”

I hang up and dial again, talking people into donating things they hold dear. I text the Farmers’ Market coordinator, eventhough it’s offseason:Any small apiaries free tonight? Women-only pop-up at Bea’s. Save the Bees fundraiser. No fees.

She replies fast. I’ll send numbers.

John is at the register drafting copy. “Bea’s presents Heat & Honeys. A Ladies’ Night. Women only, trans inclusive. No phones, no filming. Vendors on site. 100% of drink sales to Save the Bees. Secure space, door staffed. Doors at seven.”

“Add, Pre-event for next week’s animal shelter fundraiser. We’ll announce details tonight.”

He types. “Got it.”

Bex holds up her iPad. “Option A.” Bees in a border, clean text. “Option B.” Bolder font, big yellow block. “Option C.” Script font, small bee icon.

“B,” I say. “No script. Clear text.”

Tom jogs in from the back. “Cousin has a speaker and two mics. He can drop them at five.”

Anthony waves a roll of butcher paper. “I’ll make table signs for vendors.”

“Add QR codes to donate to Save the Bees. And one to sign up for next week’s shelter event.”

He nods. “On it.”

We reopen for the afternoon rush while we prep. I pull shots and stir honey syrup and answer the same two questions on loop.

“Are you the one he posted about?” a woman asks, tapping her phone.

“I’m the one running Bea’s,” I say.

She eyes me carefully, then says, “I don’t think you look like a bitch.”

I snort a laugh as I steam milk. “Is that what it says?”

She shows me the comment, hundreds down the list on Luke’s post. “People love a dogpile.”

I shrug. “Life in the public eye isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Between customers, I call Save the Bees. “It’s Meg at Bea’s. We’re doing a pop-up tonight. Can I set up a donate link?”

The contact on the other end perks up. “Yes. I’ll email you a unique link and a QR.”

“Thank you.”

It’s a busy day of fielding gossip and being charitable on the fly. John fires off the first post from our account. Bex uploads the graphic to our stories. Anthony tries to handle most of the customers himself, while John goes home to become Aqua.

My phone buzzes with DMs from regulars.I’ll be there.Do you need hands?Can I bring my sister?Can I send money?

Yes, yes, yes, yes.

At five, we close for the flip. The day is a ton of work, and the night is going to be crazy, but I think John was right. We need the publicity, and helping a worthy cause is always the right way to shake things up.

Vendors arrive at six thirty with boxes and displays. The room fills with jars, beeswax bars, hand-poured candles, salves. Marisol lines up her honey by floral source. Lisa stacks jars withcloth toppers. Twin Oaks sets out a small observation frame, no bees, just comb. Bee Good lays out lip balms like a spectrum.