the hardest and most time-consuming part of purchasing the building that would become their new base of operations had been finding the right real estate agent with the right kind of questionable professional ethics and the willingness to accept a cash bribe for his discretion.
after that, it had just been a couple of signatures, some money changing hands, and they were on their way to being back in business. it had almost been too simple — so simple, in fact, that beth almost felt like it had been too good to be true. but maybe the universe had finally decided she was due some sort of break. maybe there was actually a bit of easy on the horizon.
it had been ruby's idea, sort of. after beth's spread for the cops and feds — the almost all night and day task of baking a feast for the witnesses to her murder confession — after the relief had washed over all of them and they'd sat down to the leftovers — ruby had looked at beth seriously and asked why she never considered making a career out of her hobby.
and, really, it had completely blindsided her — not the idea, but the fact that she'd never even thought of it.
she'd been too busy being a mom, and coordinating carpool, and working out scheduling with dean, that beth hadn't even realized that the answer to their money problems might have been right in front of her all along. not that it would be that easy — it wasn't as though beth had any sort of credit, or legitimate capital for use in starting a business. and most businesses — especially in food service — took at least a year to turn a profit, often more.
but beth didn't need to put forth her own savings, she had a storage unit filled with fake cash. all she had to do was find someone stupid enough to take it without asking questions. and from there, the profit margins weren't that much of a concern if they continued their other business on the back end.
it had taken only a few conversations between the girls to begin laying out the plans. the bakery would be a legit — on paper — by the book establishment where she would create and sell her confections and pastries, some coffees and teas ( she still had a contract with the supplier they'd used for the dealership's re-branding ), and do her absolute best to make a real profit out of it.
the space upstairs — apartments that they would have inspected, fixed up if necessary, and deemed ready for lease — would house the rest of the operation, which would just be the cash, ( for now ).
of course, this had all been decided before beth had begun seeing ghosts.
"i don't know, you guys, i feel like it's just too risky to get back into it right now."
this is — predictably — met with shocked expressions from both ruby and annie.
"okay, so let me get this straight," ruby begins, and annie leans her chin into her hand as she looks between the women, undoubtedly excited for some kind of dramatic exchange. "we just signed the paperwork, we're almost all ready to go, and you want to just... not do this?" her voice is quiet, but there's an undercurrent of frustration that flows beneath the words, and beth frowns. "beth, i have been talking about this bakery for weeks, building it up so stan doesn't get suspicious. you know we still need the money — especially with him back to that damn security job — but i promised him i was done with the whole crime life, so your bakery front has got to work."
annie hums in agreement, and beth turns her head to look at her sister. "look, is this, like, another piano sitch? because let me tell you, sadie's meds ain't cheap and i was doing research on what comes after that —" she whistles, wide-eyed, and shakes her head. "beth there's no way i can make this happen for him on what i make at the store. this was supposed to be our way out of the rut, what's gotten into you?"
beth sighs, turning to lean against the edge of the kitchen sink, her gaze flitting across the lawn, lingering on the picnic table, half expecting to see him there.
"i've been — seeing rio."
there are two shocked gasps behind her and ruby says "he's alive ?" in a shrill voice, at the same time as annie chimes in with "like his ghost ?" squeezing her eyes shut, beth pinches at the bridge of her nose, as though she might stop the headache that threatens to spread behind her eyes. "i don't know," she says finally — truthfully — after a pause that's so long and so quiet, she almost thinks her friends have disappeared and she'll turn around to an empty kitchen. but when she opens her eyes and turns. both ruby and annie are staring at her with shocked expressions, waiting for more information.
"i was thinking of making an appointment with a therapist, but then — " she trails off, and the other two lean forward as if hanging on the edges of their seats, curious as to where the story might take them.
so she tells it all — the pearls, her shopping trip to target, the presence of him in her house only a couple of nights before after their girls' night.
"but you didn't actually — like actually see him?" annie's brows furrow and she's looking at her older sister as though she might have a screw loose, like the story had been ridiculous and how could beth not see that? but beth can see it, it just doesn't make her feel any better.
she's about to say something stupid like you had to be there ( because how can she explain the way the air changes around her when he's near, or the too-real warmth of him, or his scent, or his touch — all things that had been too tangible to deny ? ) when she opts for a quick shake of her head, instead.
"oh, honey, you've been through something so difficult," ruby tries in her softest voice. but it's too much, too sympathetic, too pitying, and beth feels suffocated by it. she doesn't find the words to counter those of her best friend, though, and ruby continues. "it's probably just taking a toll, and all of this talk about business — the plans being put into motion — it's probably tossing it all right back to the front of your mind." and that makes sense, beth thinks, her frown deepening.
"yeah, maybe — maybe i will make an appointment to talk to someone."
annie's hand comes up quickly, eyes bugging out with alarm. "but you're not gonna tell them you killed a dude, right? 'cause i'm pretty sure they, like, have to report shit like that." beth rolls her eyes, sighing. "of course not, annie, i'm not an idiot." she watches her younger sister almost deflate with her relief, an audible phew as she wipes the back of her hand over her forehead dramatically. "okay, good, you scared me for a sec there." beth shakes her head, and they move on to more pleasant subjects.
the thing is, finding a therapist in detroit with any openings for new clients is apparently impossible, and after countless phone calls, the soonest she can see someone is still over a month away.
she makes the appointment anyway, writing it on her wall calendar as well as typing it into her phone.
with setting up the business and everything, there will be other things to distract her in the meantime, beth thinks, a little unconvinced, but not undeterred.
three days later, beth meets with the agent for a final time, picks up the keys, and finds herself standing in front of her new building less than an hour later. it needs some work, but at the end of the day, it looks solid and full of potential.
she almost smiles a genuine smile as she unlocks the door for the first time, walking in, and setting her purse on the surface that they'll have to either fix up or tear out in order to set up the counter. her hand trails over it, anyway, and beth barley notices the dust that comes off on her fingertips.
it's a little strange, having something that's hers, after living so long for dean, for her children. at the end of the day, this is still for her children, but it's also for her, and beth is determined not to take that for granted. she can already see it coming to life under her gaze, imagines a case filled with pastries, the smell of fresh sweets and fresh coffee wafting through the air, a line out the door. this is a front, sure, but it's also a place to house and showcase her craft — something she's truly good at — and that sparks a bit of pride in her chest, even before they've started.
she's already done a walk-through of the space, but never alone, so shes grinning as she ventures into the back room, flipping on the light and sweeping her gaze around, taking in her new place — her new business. there are a couple of stainless tables left by the previous owners, and beth knows that with a little cleaning she'll be able to make good use of them. in the corner, there are a collection of wooden milk crates — some stacked, some tumbling over each other haphazardly. annie had suggested creating something out of them, said they're all the rage, and with beth's crafting skills she could probably make some rustic looking shelves for the front room. they'd all agreed that whatever they could salvage that might save them some money had to be worth it.
her smile fades, curling downward as beth catches a glimpse of a crate that has been pulled out from the group, sitting against the back wall. her heart is beating rapidly, and she can feel the cold sweat that starts at the back of her neck and across her forehead.
"what the f-"
the question is interrupted by the vibration of her phone in her pocket, and beth pulls it out, scowls at the screen, and puts it up to her ear. "what is it, dean?"
"bethie —" his voice is a tinny annoyance in her ear as he prattles on about how he'll be late picking up the kids after school — some work thing that ran over — and can she do it for him as a favor, just this once ? she doesn't have the energy to argue with him, remind him that this is by no means the first time, and that she'd had plans this afternoon. in fact, beth doesn't have the energy to respond with much more than a sound of quiet assent as she backs slowly out of the back room, hitting the light before turning to leave the store, locking the door behind her.
she leaves the bottle of bourbon in its corner, on its milk crate, and vows to not think of it again.
to her credit, it almost works — treating the most recent in a series of familiar gifts as her mind playing tricks on her — made even easier by the fact that the bottle is no longer there the next time she enters the building.
this time she has ruby and annie with her, and beth does her best not to make a beeline for the back room just to peep at that one corner in the back, and see if it remains. instead, she walks through the space, turning on lights and setting down cleaning supplies, pulling the paper covering from the windows to let in some natural light, smiling at the way it dances across the old tile floors, bursts of sunshine dancing over the walls. and only then — once they're ready to begin working — does she venture into the back.
the lights blink once before settling on after she flips the switch, and while not exactly surprised, beth is almost disappointed to find the milk crate right where it had been during her previous visit but missing the bottle of bourbon.
she huffs out a sigh, blinks a couple of times, and shakes her head at her own growing insanity.
"hey, b — where do you want us to start?" ruby calls from the front, and beth cuts the lights off again — leaving the back room for another day — before joining her and annie in the front and grabbing a rag to begin wiping down surfaces. she smiles as she stands framed by the doorway, looking at the small space with that same feeling of pride blooming in her chest. "let's start polishing until she shines."