Page 136 of You've Got Hate Mail
“If we can’t find an investor, it won’t matter,” she wails. “And I can’t find an investor.”
Ice claims my insides as the reality of the financial situation hits me in a way that it hasn’t yet.
I love it here.
I love the people. I love the purpose. I love that I’m learning so much about who I am and who I want to be, merely because it’s safe here to explore.
“I should have money,” she says through sobs. “I should be able to save us, but my mother stole all of myOn the Rhodesmoney and spent it.”
“Oh, Ginny,” I whisper, my heart lurching in sympathy. “What can I do?”
“Find someone like us who can help us?”
Who do I know who has money who would be safe to bring in here as an investor? Who would understand why this winery is so special? That it’s a home. A refuge. A place that needs to stay exactly as it is?
No one.
I know no one with money that I trust and no one I trust who has money.
“I’ll sell videos of my beaver,” I say even as the words make my entire body erupt in goosebumps. “I’ll get on GrippaBeav myself, and?—”
She hugs me tighter. “Cricket.No.”
“It’s just a body part, and some other asshole is already out there doing it, so why shouldn’t I?”
“Because only one percent of subscription accounts on sites like that actually make good money, and the internet is a dick, and they’ve already picked the unethical shit bag who’s using you. Plus, once you put a video out there, you can’t take it back.Anyof it.”
“So I’ll—I’ll sue them for what they made off of me,” I say. “Mabel and I will find who’s running it, and we’ll sue them.”
“Cricket,” she whispers.
I squeeze my eyes shut and pretend I don’t know what she’s saying without saying it.
That odds are good whoever’s running the channel is spending the money as fast as it’s coming in. Someone who’d do that—they’re not socking the cash away for a rainy day.
The Cheeky Beaver channel—it makes me feel more victimized than the original video did.
I can own my own shit.
But I’ll probably never be able to hold that person accountable for what they’re doing.
Ginny pulls back and wipes at her eyes. “Sorry. Sorry. I shouldn’t put this on you. We’ll figure it out. I’m just—just having a rough day with it.”
“You don’t have to hide it from me,” I tell her while I wipe my eyes too. “I want to be part of things. I want to pull my weight. I want to be a full member of this family.”
“Oh, Cricket, you are.” She smiles at me, eyes still wet. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me and my own fears that I’m never doing enough.”
“You literally saved my life by inviting me here,” I whisper. “That will always be enough for me.”
She grabs me in another hug while we both cry all over again.
I have to find a way to help save this place.
Haveto.
It means too much to all of us to let it go. And I’ve only been here a month. Mabel and Ginny and Olivia and Samantha and Pip and Heath and Lav—this has been their home so much longer.
“We’ll find a way to get through to next harvest,” Ginny says. “With you wanting to take over managing the grapes and Dori studying up on winemaking?—”
