So Long, Sweeties

You might know Ginny Karvelas, owner of Sweeties on Kinsley Street, as a generous lady with a gift for gab and a golden spatula. Only you might have been calling her "Sweetie" – even though that's not her nickname.

It's actually a tribute to her late sister.

"Sweetie – that's what my sister used to call her kids, you know, 'Sweetie, it's time to come down for breakfast.' That's how she talked to her kids – not like some moms today, 'Hey bonehead,' they say. Anyway, my sister passed away many years ago, but her kids helped me pull this place together in just eight months. You should have seen the place," says Karvelas, pulling out a folder with photos of what had been Papa Romano's Pizza, before she took the place over.

And in that one moment of explanation, with visual aids, you get the picture of how much it has meant to Karvelas, to achieve her dream of owning and operating her own bakery and kitchen, where she cooks the heck out of everything, from soup to nut brownies.

Loyal customers will be almost as devastated as she is, about the news she's calling it quits.

"Saturday's my last day. I can't do it anymore. I never smoked a day in my life, but I used to work in places where people smoked all around me. Now I have COPD, and with the gas stoves here, I can't be on oxygen," Karvelas said.

"But you know what? I could've died yesterday and gone to heaven, because this is all I ever wanted. This has been the greatest thing in the world. It was my dream, and every customer is like a million bucks," said Karvelas.

And right on queue one of her regulars, Mary Edwards, makes her way inside and plops down on a wooden bench. They make small talk for a minute, then Karvelas spills the beans. 

"Mary, I have to tell you something. Saturday's my last day here," she says. 

"Oh no! Now where am I gonna go?" Edwards says. 

The two women talk about growing pains, the inconvenience of creaky joints, the frustration of having a body that can't keep up with the spirit.

"OK, then. I'd better stock up," says Edwards, stepping up to the counter and leaning in to see what Karvelas has in the fridge. She asks for multiple helpings of her favorites – chicken soup, spanakopita, lasagna, and pumpkin bread – for her son. After Karvelas loads up a shopping bag with purchases, Edwards decides she needs a few more containers, so she deliberates.

Before there was Sweeties, Karvelas had been happily retired from the telephone company.

"Yes, I was a call girl," she says, her eyes twinkling as she waits to see if her punch line sinks in. "This was something I always, always, wanted to do, but never had the opportunity. Then, in 2008 I had an operation, and after that, I said it was time to go for the gusto. I looked  at lots of places, but I couldn't find anything. Then, this place became available, and I bought it," Karvelas said. 

"I've met the nicest people here," she said.

Over the past several months Karvelas, 68,  has been slowing down a bit, but it was only recently that the extent of her illness became apparent. She still needs more tests, but she knows her limits.

"I'm looking for someone to buy it. It's a turn-key business – it's ready to go," she said. "Know anybody who's looking?"

Nov. 23 is the last day for customers to get a tray of spanakopita, a chicken soup, or a pistachio cupcake. Karvelas usually stays until 4 p.m. on Saturdays, but she'll stay this Saturday until most everything's sold.

Edwards feels like treating herself to a cookie. She picks up an oatmeal cookie, and and Karvelas assures her that the oats are good for her digestive system. Edwards has relied on Sweeties for fresh, home-cooked meals. Her routine is to stop by every other week or so, whenever she's in the neighborhood, to stock up. She was glad she stopped in Tuesday, or she might have missed the chance to give Karvelas a proper goodbye.

"I'm giving you pumpkin bread, sliced," says Karvelas, slipping a small loaf into Edwards' bag. "Nice knowin' ya."

"Not as nice as knowing you, Ginny," said Edwards, giving Karvelas a hug. "I'm gonna pray for you. And I'm gonna miss you. I really am."

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Stop by 189 Kinsley Street between now and Nov. 23 to say a proper goodbye, if you are so inclined.