“I never knew that about you.”
“Sarcasm. Nice,” I said on a roll of my eyes. “Okay, ready for my plan?” This time his brow went up, which meanthit me. “I want to find local suppliers of honey to provide us with what we need for our recipes and to sell along with each finished product. I want it already packaged and ready for distribution with our business name on it, not theirs, though their name will be listed as the supplier. Then, we take the apples from the orchard and create pies, apple butter, and applesauce that incorporates the honey from the same local farmers into the recipes. We sell the products at farmer’s markets, local supermarkets, and health food stores. Each product comes with a small jar of honey as well. The jar will be unique and remind the customer to protect the pollinators, and, of course, to buy more honey.”
“I love it,” he said. “I haven’t even heard half of your plan, and I already love it. Way to put the two businesses together. I didn’t see it coming.”
“There’s more.”
“As expected.” He motioned for me to continue.
“Now, we don’t need a massive influx of money, right?” I asked, and he shook his head. “Which makes this the perfect way to benefit Plentiful and other communities alike.”
“By donating the profits back to the community?”
I shook my head with confidence. “No, by donating beehives.”
“Beehives?”
“Yes, and bees. See, okay, so Gulliver says that we need more pollinators to continue to grow crops and eat, right?” He nodded, but he had that grin that said he’d agree to anything I said at this point. “What makes more sense than rebuilding the honeybee population? Think about it. The apples from the orchard are only there because of the bees, so why wouldn’t we want to put the money back into the most important resource we need to keep the business running? Without the bees, we don’t have honey or apples, or anything else for that matter. We list the number of bees that will be donated from the purchase of each pie or jar of honey. Boom! They’re going to buy that product every time over one that isn’t restocking bee habitats.”
“Boom, huh?” he asked with a grin on his lips a mile wide. “I mean, you’re right. It’s brilliant. Gulliver is going to go hog wild over this. You know that, right?”
I rubbed my hands together excitedly. “I hope so. We’d need his help with contacts for the honey.”
“I do have one question.”
“Shoot.”
“How do you make the product? Who’s going to make the pies and sauces and all the things you talked about?”
“I’m glad you asked!” I clapped my hands giddily. I was on a roll, and I was ready to reveal the big finish. “We’d rotate home economic and agricultural as well as 4-H clubs into the restaurant to learn advanced cooking and baking skills. They’ll get community service hours for it, and those kids are always well versed in cooking and baking to start with, so the learning curve is lower. We’ll also have several full-time bakers, of course.”
“What you’re saying is, the company would use the whole process as a tremendous learning experience for the younger generation, funded by the older generation who is buying the product. It all circles back to the younger generation again when the bees continue to pollinate the crops we need to survive.”
“You got it!”
He laughed then. Tossed his head back and laughed in a manner that I’d heard only a few times in the last few years. “Oh yes, I made the absolute right choice coming back to my roots. You’re brilliant,” he whispered, taking my hand. “I only have one request.”
“Sure, we’re only in the planning stage. All of this is up for changes, requests, termination, or whatever you want. It’s going to—” He squeezed my hand, and I stopped talking long enough to listen.
“My request is the company name and logo.”
“You’re thinking that far ahead?”
“No, I’m thinking that far behind. I thought of it when I bought this place, but I wanted to see what you’d do with it first.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”
“I want the name to be The Honeybee Tree, and I want the logo to be you.”
My hand went to my chest. “I love that name!” I whispered with happiness. “It’s perfect, but why would you want me as the logo? That’s just silly.”
He winked and released my hand, leaning back. “Not you as an adult, but you as a child. Do you remember that picture Mor took when you were wearing Far’s straw hat and swinging on the wooden swing under the tree when we were kids? You were so adorable then.”
“Then?” I asked haughtily. I was teasing, but his eyes widened.
“No, I mean, you’re still adorable, but the hat and the swing—”
I snickered and brushed my hand at him. “I’m kidding, Mathias. Yes, I remember the picture.”
