want to add to the burdens of his brother and sister.
Kat shook her head before a tear could escape. “You know,” she said, quickly changing the topic, “have you seen the bank recently? On my way in, I saw all these trucks outside the bank with like new furniture and equipment. Like new ATM machines.”
“That’s nothing,” Malcolm countered. “Haven’t you seen Hoyt’s?” Hoyt’s was the local grocery store. “They’ve torn down the whole front face of the store. I asked Hoyt what was happening and he said that he was redoing the whole front. There was a stack of lumber out back.”
Kat paused, squatting on her haunches as she processed this new information. “How is that possible?” she asked, thinking aloud. “Where’d he get the money for so much work?”
She couldn’t see him but she knew Malcolm had shrugged in the pause of silence.
“But he looked excited about the work,” Malcolm said. “No wonder, of course. That place was sorely in need of a makeover. But I still don’t know where the money came from. And the bank—I don’t know where they’re getting all that new stuff either.”
Kat didn’t either. The bank was an independent credit union. They weren’t even part of a huge national chain. So where did this money for sudden renovation and improvement come from?
Kat gasped as a thought hit her. She jumped up to her feet so she could stare at Malcolm through the order window.
Eye wide, she said, “You don’t think it’s those buyers from New York, do you? Maybe they’re giving money to pretty up the town before they buy it all up.”
Malcolm paused, spatula in hand. He seemed to think this theory over before shaking his head.
“Don’t you remember that town meeting a few months back? Hoyt was the most against the buy out. He would never take money from those people,” Malcolm said, flipping pancakes with a furrowed brow. “But it is weird. I wonder who else would have the money for such a big project.”
Kat knew Malcolm was right. Hoyt Floyd owned the local grocery store and was dead set against the buy out. He wanted Hoyt’s to have nothing to do with it in protest.
But then where did he get the money? And where had the bank gotten its money?
But as the bell ringed over the door with new customers, Kat shrugged off the thought and threw herself into work. Making sure that Janelle was managing the front well, Kat headed towards the kitchen to whip up another batch of her vanilla almond scones, which were quickly becoming a town favorite. She had been improving the baked goods menu of Doughy Pop’s slowly but surely and she was pleasantly surprised to see just how well the townspeople were receiving the expanded menu items.
Baking required focus. Measurements had to be precise and temperatures exact. So focused was Kat that she did not hear the door ring as a customer entered. She did not hear Janelle through the order window taking the customer’s order. She didn't even hear Janelle repeating the order through the order window.
It wasn’t until Malcolm had slammed his spatula against his grill that Kat looked up. Jerked out of her focused meditative state, she turned around and saw her brother glaring out the order window.
Kat’s baking station stood at the opposite end of the kitchen. She couldn’t see out through the order window which was directly next to the grill. But she could see Malcolm’s scrunched face and grease spattered glasses as he glared through the
Kat shook her head before a tear could escape. “You know,” she said, quickly changing the topic, “have you seen the bank recently? On my way in, I saw all these trucks outside the bank with like new furniture and equipment. Like new ATM machines.”
“That’s nothing,” Malcolm countered. “Haven’t you seen Hoyt’s?” Hoyt’s was the local grocery store. “They’ve torn down the whole front face of the store. I asked Hoyt what was happening and he said that he was redoing the whole front. There was a stack of lumber out back.”
Kat paused, squatting on her haunches as she processed this new information. “How is that possible?” she asked, thinking aloud. “Where’d he get the money for so much work?”
She couldn’t see him but she knew Malcolm had shrugged in the pause of silence.
“But he looked excited about the work,” Malcolm said. “No wonder, of course. That place was sorely in need of a makeover. But I still don’t know where the money came from. And the bank—I don’t know where they’re getting all that new stuff either.”
Kat didn’t either. The bank was an independent credit union. They weren’t even part of a huge national chain. So where did this money for sudden renovation and improvement come from?
Kat gasped as a thought hit her. She jumped up to her feet so she could stare at Malcolm through the order window.
Eye wide, she said, “You don’t think it’s those buyers from New York, do you? Maybe they’re giving money to pretty up the town before they buy it all up.”
Malcolm paused, spatula in hand. He seemed to think this theory over before shaking his head.
“Don’t you remember that town meeting a few months back? Hoyt was the most against the buy out. He would never take money from those people,” Malcolm said, flipping pancakes with a furrowed brow. “But it is weird. I wonder who else would have the money for such a big project.”
Kat knew Malcolm was right. Hoyt Floyd owned the local grocery store and was dead set against the buy out. He wanted Hoyt’s to have nothing to do with it in protest.
But then where did he get the money? And where had the bank gotten its money?
But as the bell ringed over the door with new customers, Kat shrugged off the thought and threw herself into work. Making sure that Janelle was managing the front well, Kat headed towards the kitchen to whip up another batch of her vanilla almond scones, which were quickly becoming a town favorite. She had been improving the baked goods menu of Doughy Pop’s slowly but surely and she was pleasantly surprised to see just how well the townspeople were receiving the expanded menu items.
Baking required focus. Measurements had to be precise and temperatures exact. So focused was Kat that she did not hear the door ring as a customer entered. She did not hear Janelle through the order window taking the customer’s order. She didn't even hear Janelle repeating the order through the order window.
It wasn’t until Malcolm had slammed his spatula against his grill that Kat looked up. Jerked out of her focused meditative state, she turned around and saw her brother glaring out the order window.
Kat’s baking station stood at the opposite end of the kitchen. She couldn’t see out through the order window which was directly next to the grill. But she could see Malcolm’s scrunched face and grease spattered glasses as he glared through the
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