Decision made, she downed the rest of her tea, pulled on the wool plaid coat that wouldn’t close around her stomach any more, and headed for the door.I need to add maternity clothes to my list.Hopefully she could find a thrift shop in town as well.
The morning air bit at her cheeks as she stepped outside. October had arrived in earnest, and despite the array of colors, many of the trees had already started losing their leaves. Her cabin sat at the edge of a small clearing, with no other buildings in sight. A quarter mile to the nearest neighbor, according to the landlord. Beautiful and peaceful, but isolated.
This is what I wanted, she reminded herself as she climbed into her car.
The River Caféwas perched at the end of Main Street, across from the Town Square. An outside deck overlooked the wide river that flowed along the edge of town but it was empty on this cool morning. She pulled into a parking space a short distanceaway and tried not to stare as a huge troll in mechanic’s overalls with a little girl tucked against one shoulder put his other arm around a curvy human woman. They looked so happy—like a family.
We can be a happy family too, even if they are only two of us, she thought, patting her stomach.
She walked into the café, a bell announcing her entrance, and was immediately enveloped by coffee-scented warmth. Exposed beams crisscrossed the ceiling, and fairy lights twinkled in the corners despite the daylight. Diner-style booths lined the walls while mismatched tables and chairs filled the center of the space.
Almost every seat was occupied, and she hesitated by the door. An older blue-skinned woman wearing a pink 50s style waitress uniform whizzed by and gave her a quick smile.
“Just give me a few minutes to find you a seat, hon.”
She shifted uncomfortably, but before she lost her nerve and headed back out the door, a tiny elderly woman with a cap of white curls appeared at her elbow. She was wearing a neon green tracksuit that clashed rather spectacularly with her pale green skin, but she beamed up at Chloe.
“There you are, dear. Come and join us.”
“That’s very nice of you, but?—”
Despite her attempt to refuse, a tiny and surprisingly strong hand closed around her arm, and she found herself being escorted firmly across the busy room to one of the booths along the back wall. The other occupant of the booth, a pleasant-faced older woman with a witch’s hat perched rakishly on her silver hair, gave her a friendly smile.
“You must be Chloe. Flora told me you’d moved into the old Thornhill cabin.”
“I did, but how did you?—”
“Small town, sweetie.” Flora urged her irresistibly towards the bench seat, and Chloe gave up trying to argue. “Now let’s get you fed. You can’t live on peanut butter and hope when you’re growing a whole other person.”
The comment was oddly specific and she gave the old woman a startled look. Flora’s smile widened, revealing disturbingly sharp teeth, and the other woman shook her head.
“Stop teasing the child. Don’t mind her, Chloe. We’re always happy to see newcomers.”
The waitress stopped long enough to place a steaming mug of tea in front of her then hurried off again. The tea was strong and sweet, with a hint of something floral she couldn’t identify. She took a grateful sip and eyed the other two women nervously.
“As you guessed, I’m Chloe. I just moved to town.”
“I’m Gladys,” the silver-haired woman said. “And this is Flora. She runs the local inn.”
“Which would have been a lot less lonely than the cabin,” Flora said sternly, then sighed. “But I suppose under the circumstances…”
Flora and Gladys exchanged what would only be called a meaningful look, leaving her even more confused. Why did she feel as if they knew something she didn’t? She decided to finish her tea and excuse herself, but a few seconds later, the waitress returned with a stack of pancakes, three slices of perfectly cooked bacon, and a side of crispy hash browns.
“There you go, hon. I’ll bring you some milk as well. Good for the baby.”
“But I didn’t order?—”
The waitress was already gone, and she gave the other two women a helpless look. Neither of them seemed surprised.
“Rona always knows what you want,” Gladys explained, giving her plate an approving look. “Aren’t you hungry?”
She realized Gladys was right—the food was exactly what she would have ordered. As the sweet smell of the pancakes drifted towards her, her stomach growled impatiently. She took a hesitant mouthful, then moaned blissfully.
“This is amazing.”
Both women smiled at her, then Flora tilted her head.
“Ah, just in time.”
