She dropped into a crouch next to her niece. “How would you like to watch a DVD with Summer and Harry?”
Lizzy stared at her. “Now?”
“Yes. They’re just through that door.” She felt a flutter of anxiety and suppressed it. She reminded herself of what Ryan had said about the importance of Lizzy becoming independent. “I’ll be right here, talking to Lisa. We’ll leave the door open.” She could see the halo of Summer’s blond hair through a crack in the door, hear laughter as the twins watched a cartoon.
Lisa looked surprised, but she pushed open the door to the cottage, and moments later Lizzy was happily settled with the twins and a bowl of popcorn.
“Have you noticed how similar Lizzy is to the twins? They could almost be triplets!”
“It’s the hair.” Satisfied that Lizzy was safe, Emily turned back to Lisa. “Tell me the truth. How bad is it?”
Lisa gave a tired shrug. “Bad enough to make me want to eat a vat of chocolate ice cream by myself. I stayed up most of the night looking at the numbers, but they were still the same this morning. Looking at them doesn’t change the fact this dream is over for me.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I keep hoping and putting off the decision, but I’m not going to make it through another winter. It will take me a while to sell this place, and I can’t afford two places. I don’t know which is worse—giving up on my dream or moving back home with my mother and hearing her say ‘I told you so.’ She makes me feel about the same age as the kids.”
“Is there no alternative?”
“Not that I can see.” Lisa’s eyes filled, and she pressed her fingers to her mouth. “Sorry. I can’t believe I’m telling you this. You came in for an ice cream, and instead of a blob of blueberry I give you a dollop of self-pity topped off with liquid misery. I don’t charge for that, by the way. It’s on the house.”
“I asked the question.” Emily grabbed a handful of napkins and handed them over. “Here. Blow.”
“I don’t want the kids to see me like this. You know what it’s like.” Lisa blew her nose hard. “You try and keep a bright smile on your face, no matter how bad things are. And when I tuck them in at night I realize that none of it matters really as long as I have them. They’re the best thing in my life.” She gave a faint smile. “Thanks for listening.”
“I can do more than listen. I might be able to help, if you’d like me to.” Emily glanced around the store, looking at all the unused space. “You say that no one has been able to make this business pay. Did anyone ever try doing anything different with it?”
“Different? You mean apart from sell ice cream?”
“There’s more than one way of selling ice cream.” Emily walked to the door and stared through the glass to the busy harbor. “There are plenty of people out there. The island is busy.”
“But the tourists don’t always come in here, so that doesn’t help me.”
Emily watched the flow of people. “Because they walk straight off the ferry and turn left to the beach.”
“On a hot day, yes. And to walk past Summer Scoop, they need to turn right. They sometimes call in at Swim and Sail or visit the Lobster Hatchery, but they don’t come down this far.” Lisa’s shoulders sagged. “I’m doomed.”
“You’re not doomed. Every tourist that arrives on that ferry is a potential customer. We just need to think about how to tempt people in.”
“I was thinking of taking my clothes off.” Lisa gave another weak smile. “Just kidding. That would scare them away. I did think of putting a sign up by the ferry if they’d let me, but then I decided it wouldn’t help. Folks just want to head to the beach. And you know what the weather is like in this place—it’s sunny now, but we get ou
r share of fog and rain, and then people are thinking about shelter, not ice cream. They want something to do with fractious children.”
Still thinking, Emily turned. “Fractious children?”
“Yes. You’re stuck in a rental property or a hotel watching the rain sheet down or trying to see through mist thicker than the steam from a kettle. You put on the same DVD and then the kids start fighting, and it’s all ‘Mom, I’m bored.’ Puffin Island is an outdoor place. There’s stuff you can do in the rain, but drying clothes every day can be exhausting.”
Emily strolled across the room, her mind exploring various options. Usually she worked as part of a team of people, and the businesses were large corporations. Her contribution merged with those of others, like a single drop of rain blending with the ocean, unidentifiable and yet still part of the whole. “You have plenty of space.”
“It needs redecorating, but I don’t have the funds for it and I can’t afford to close while it’s done.”
“Maybe we could do something imaginative with the space. Something that encourages people to come in when it’s raining. Offer something they can’t get anywhere else on the island.”
“I don’t have the cash to invest in a new venture.”
“It won’t be a new venture. Just a few additions to the old one. Tell me about the business itself. Who do you rent the building from?”
“Someone who knows how to bleed a person dry.”