We opened the second location on a Saturday in early spring, six months after the papers were signed and roughly four hundred small disasters after I'd first believed it might actually happen on schedule.
The sign above the door still said Fern's, because Jen had been right about that much from the very beginning — some luck wasn't worth risking, even luck as small and stubborn as a name that had survived twenty-two years without anyone asking why. I'd wanted to call it something else, something that was mine instead of hers, but standing there at six in the morning with my hand on the new door and my heart somewhere up around my throat, I understood why she'd never changed it either. Some things you didn't touch just because you technically could.
Grace showed up an hour before opening
