Sunshine (Sweet Pea Fanfic)

Chapter 3

When I was growing up, my mother used to tell me that Pop's ChockLit Shoppe was the most magical place in Riverdale. It was nested close enough to main roads but far enough within the trees so that it felt secluded. It was the one neutral spot between the Northside and the Southside. 

You could walk in from the chill of the outdoors to be greeted in a warm restaurant with buzzing neon lights. The classic decor was important to Pop, he said that it was important that everyone regardless of their background, felt welcome.

Pop was a big stickler about cleanliness. Every first Monday of the month the entire Tate family would go to Pop's and scrub every nook and cranny of the restaurant. My school principles always gave me a pass, knowing I was a Tate kid. 

When I was a kid, my mom would try to make it fun by blasting the Supremes and telling me that if I scrub the entire floor with bleach then I could get my very own customized milkshake. In the Tate family, that was a big deal. Pop didn't like anyone to mess with the traditional recipes. Blueberry sugar syrup in a milkshake? It was too weird and slightly disrespectful for Pop, but it was my reward for spending my entire school day cleaning. He always told me he would make an exception for me because I was his favorite grandchild. I was also his only one. 

When my mom passed from breast cancer a couple months ago, Pop stopped the first Monday cleaning parties. I would shut myself in, and Pop would just overwork himself at the restaurant. Last weekend he mentioned just the two of us going to do it this Monday, an ode to my Mom. Something we both shared with Mom, a place where we both saw her face in the windows and the booths.

I got out of the shower and quickly dressed in some sweatpants and a tank top, packing an extra outfit in my duffle. I navigate my way immediately towards the coffee pot once I pad my way down the stairs. 

Pop is casually reading the newspaper, shifting his glasses slightly every few pages. "You need to start eating more, Jessica." He says nonchalantly, sipping his coffee without looking up.

"I always tell you, I'm never hungry this early in the morning Pop." I say matter-of-factly, sitting down on the chair across from him, instinctly placing my hand over his for reassurance. 

"I know that's what you say, but I just don't want to see you in pain like this." Pop reassures, "It is not healthy for you to only be eating this or that, never a real meal. Whenever I cook at the Shoppe, you always have to leave."

"I promise I'm taking care of myself," I smile, looking into my grandpa's worried brown eyes. "Don't worry! Cheryl would kill me if I wasn't healthy enough to cheer for the Vixens."

Pop just sits there with his concerned eyes, assessing me before pursing his lips and standing up. "We better get going." 

"After you" I respond, grabbing my things and following Pop out of the door. 

"Jessica, don't bother lying to me again." Pop warns. 

When we get to the restaurant, we have to walk through thick mud before getting into the back. Last night's rain made the soft grass immediately crumble beneath our shoes. 

"Take off your shoes here." Pop stops, popping the lights on in the restaurant. "You ready?"

"We have to start sometime, right?" I grunt, trading my boots for my work shoes in my bag.

My grandpa looks over to me with a knowing smile, "I know it's normally the Supreme's, but I want to propose a new artist."

He walks over to the jukebox and immediately after he presses the tab, the Temptations blares out of the speakers. His smile glows, "You don't know anything about the Temptations, Jess."

Rolling my eyes and smiling, "Okay old man, while you're over there dancing I will scrub these atrocious floors."

"Oh you're no fun, Jess." Pop laughs, busting out a few moves like he had rehearsed these moves before. I start laughing so much I cry, starting out on the first tile.

The past few hours had been so productive, that we were practically finished with the entire restaurant by lunch time. Pop had made us a few sandwiches and fries. 

"You know there is something I've been wanting to tell you," Pop hesitates. "You know these past few months have been stressful on us and the restaurant."

"Yeah but look at us!" I laugh, motioning towards the fresh smell of bleach as I take a bite of a fry. "I'm so proud of us, Pop!"

"That's just it." Pop starts, "Miranda was in charge of all the finances, and when she passed we took a hit."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Pop sighs, fiddling with his hands and looking down as if he was ashamed. "I do not have a degree in Business like your mother or your grandma, and they did a lot of, well, everything." 

"Pop you know that is not true." I say quietly, taking both of his hands in my own. Steadying him.

Pop looks up at me, and that's when I saw the tears forming. "Mr. Lodge gave an offer that was generous, and left me with some supervision of this restaurant still."

"What?! You sold the restaurant? To Veronica Lodge's Pappi Parolee?" I say exasperatedly. 

"He seems like a very nice man, Jess." He sighs, now he was the one holding me. "I don't want you to worry about this place."

"Too late for that!" I exclaim, getting up and pacing. 

"I've already done it, Jessica." He warns, "There is nothing you can do. The Lodges can be very dangerous."

"We will see about that." I say, taking my bag and walking out the door. The Lodges wanted to play dirty? Veronica Lodge had no idea what was coming her way.