“Maybe I should thank him then.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. Let’s just say it was mutually beneficial. He’s made a killing on those folding chairs and wool socks. See for yourself,” she said as she pushed open the door.
The place was packed, people everywhere, grown-ups, kids, some huddled around heaters, some sitting in circles of matching camping chairs, some lying on sleeping bags. Most I’d never seen before, but as I looked around, I spotted every person I’d met since coming to Petersville: Mr. Jennings from the turkey farm, Riley, Jim, Dr. Charney, Josh’s mom, some families from the library, the kid from the Gas Mart.
And standing in the ticket window, opening the bag of napkins he’d brought from home just like he’d promised, was Josh. He smiled and waved.
“That kid’s been up all night getting this place ready. Him and his mom and me and Jim and Dr. Charney, all of us,” Winnie said. “We knew you’d be busy with the doughnuts. Place cleaned up pretty good, no?”
“Way better than pretty good,” I said.
The garbage that had covered the floor had been replaced by overlapping rugs of all colors, shapes, and sizes. Red paper lanterns hung from the rafters, and colored lights wound around the little tree growing out of the middle of the floor.
But the biggest change since I’d peeked through the window on my first day in Petersville? A floor-to-ceiling steam engine painted in whites and grays like it was made of clouds stretched across the entire back wall.
“Did Dr. Charney do that?”
“When he wasn’t helping with the lights. Paint isn’t even dry,” Winnie said.
“Where’d all these people come from?” I said, looking around the room.
“Where do you think? From here.”
I guess it made sense that I didn’t recognize most of them. Where would I have seen them? They couldn’t have had any more of a clue who I was than I did who they were, but suddenly, the whole room was on its feet, clapping and cheering, closing in on me.
“Is that for Tris?” Zoe said, coming in behind me.
“Don’t be silly, honey. It’s for the doughnuts,” Winnie said.
Just then, a man elbowed his way to the front of the crowd. From his yellow-white hair and matching teeth, I knew right away who he was.
“You back up,” Winnie said, giving Clive a shove. “You get yours last.”
“How come?” Clive said, frowning.
“Because. That’s why,” Winnie said, poking him in the gut.
“That’s the thanks I get for printing you those nice stickers, free of charge?”
Winnie snorted. “Huh. Like that makes up for all the nonsense you put me through. Keep talking, and you don’t get any.”
“All right, all right. I’m going,” Clive said and slunk back into the crowd.
“Hey, there, Mr. Doughnut Stop!” someone called. “Quite a turnout, huh?”
“Who was that?” I studied the crowd.
Winnie pointed to a corner of the room where Harley stood in front of a table piled high with surprisingly useful merchandise.
“Earmuffs?” He held up a pair with long, droopy dog ears.
“Nah, I’m good, thanks.”
“C’mon, people, relax!” Winnie shooed everyone back. “We still got to get set up, so give us a little room here.”
It took some work—and threats to revoke doughnut privileges—but eventually Winnie cleared a path for us from the front door to the ticket window.
“So, what do you think?” Josh said, popping up over the ticket counter. “I figured we could sell from inside the booth and then pass the doughnuts out through the window. Good idea?”
“Great idea!” I said.
“Did you see the sign?”
“Yeah, that’s how I knew where to come.”
“No, the other sign.” He pointed up.
I put the doughnut boxes on the ticket counter and took a step back. Someone had hung Winnie’s YES, WE DO HAVE CHOCOLATE CREAM DOUGHNUTS! sign on the wall above the window.
Winnie gave herself a pat. “My idea.”
“Also your idea to set up here in the station house?” I said.
She laughed.
“What?”
“Jim told us it was yours,” Josh said.
“Really?” Was this some other wink-wink with Jim the Mayor/Carpenter/Kidnapper that I wasn’t in on? I scanned the room and spotted him standing by the back door, shovel in hand, talking to my mother. “Back in a sec.”
“Still not checking those weather reports, huh, Jax?” Jim said when he saw me coming. “Tell me, what do you think of all this?”
“It’s so cool, but why are you telling people it was my idea?”
“Because it was. Don’t you remember what you told me that day? Town needs somewhere everybody can get together. You said this place was it.”
I did remember. I just couldn’t believe that he did, and that he’d thought it was such a good idea he’d just gone and done it.
“Look around. You were right.” He turned me to face the room.
Zoe had joined a group of kids sitting on the floor listening to Riley play the guitar and was throwing in her own strum of the strings when she could sneak it in. Gonzo and Ziggy were there too, spread across the floor, being used as pillows. Dad was over by Harley’s table talking with some people, and even from all the way across the room I knew which corny joke he was telling. At first, I didn’t see Jeanine and wondered if maybe she was freezing in the car in protest, but then I spotted her in a corner, crouched over a chessboard opposite a man with a long, gray ponytail. Even though the man had racked up twice as many pieces as she had, for the first time in a very long time, she didn’t look like she were wishing she were someplace else.
“Jim also told me you thought the station house would make a great restaurant. And you’re so right,” Mom said, smiling her biggest smile. “It’s perfect! Even the name: the Station House. I love it. That’s what we were just talking about. Putting my restaurant here. Since I wouldn’t be serving breakfast, I’d be closed when the Doughnut Stop was open. You willing to share? You did see it
