I wipe the crumbs and cheese dust from my hands. And from the fabric of the pajamas I’ve been wearing all day. And from the couch cushions.
I head into the kitchen with new determination. Ignoring the pantry, I find the junk drawer—every kitchen has one. And this one holds exactly what I need: a notepad and a pen.
I take my tools back to the living room and turn my full attention to the TV.
I spend the rest of the afternoon taking notes, paying attention to the hidden nuances of the stories on the screen, the familiar plot points and recurring characters, the common ways the conflicts resolve. Then I use the rest of the night to make myplan.
4
The pink cotton dress has little yellow flowers embroidered along the edge of the sleeves and the bottom hem. It’s something I wouldn’t even have picked out for a niece, if I had any, but combined with my fresh rosy cheeks and blond barrel curls, it creates the perfect look.
I take a deep breath before opening my front door, not sure what to expect from the other side, but knowing I have to greet it with a smile.
I don’t look to my right as I march down the front path and to the white picket gate. I haven’t seen Ben since my failed escape attempt, and for some reason, I almost dread seeing him again more than I do Mimi. He’s the only one here who saw a glimpse of the real me, the only one who might be able to blow my cover. The cover I’ll have to don convincingly if I have any hope of making my way home.
I plaster a grin on my face before I push open the door of the café, the bell tinkling joyfully, mocking me and my total lack of joy. The jingling shouldn’t bother me so much,but it’s an audible reminder of where I am and what I’m about to face.
Mimi is once again behind the butcher-block counter, and once again, there’s no one else here in the shop, the few scattered tables sitting waiting for patrons. The chalkboard menu details the day’s specials, the kinds of coffee drinks with multiple ingredients and more sugar than coffee. Mimi doesn’t look up from her work, studiously ignoring me.
But this time, I know just what she’s looking for. “Mimi! It’s so good to see you again!”
Her eyes narrow briefly as she takes me in from head to toe, my perfect pink dress and wide smile. There may be a hint of approval in her scrutinizing gaze, but that could be wishful thinking. “Good morning, Cam. I’m happy to see you.”
I approach the counter warily, never losing my false façade. “I would love to try one of those honey lavender lattes you mentioned, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” Her hands immediately begin prepping ingredients, but her eyes never leave me, even as I sashay away, fluffing my skirt before sliding onto one of the distressed pastel chairs. Mimi finishes my drink and brings it over to the table, setting the mug in front of me before taking the chair opposite.
I look down at the coffee, a heart in the foam to match the sprig of lavender resting on the saucer. “I wanted to come in and apologize for my behavior the other day. I have to admit I was a little thrown when I arrived here!” I chuckle, though there isn’t an ounce of humor in it, and I can’t help but feel like I’m blowing this already. I really should havepaid more attention in that theater arts elective I was forced to take in high school.
“And now?” Mimi brings her own mug to her lips, her eyes never straying from my face.
“And now I feel so blessed to be here!” I barely hold back the cringe, but I think I successfully turn my frown upside down.
“You do?”
“Yes, of course. I had been saying how much I was in need of a break, and now here I am, in the perfect place for a little mental recharge.” Never once have any of those words passed through my lips before, but she couldn’t possibly know that. Could she?
Mimi sips from her coffee without saying a word.
But she doesn’t need to, because it’s clear she isn’t buying what I’m selling. I don’t know why I thought I would be able to keep this up. I am the brash big-city girl, and maybe I just need to embrace my roots, lean into it. After all, this whole thing is supposed to be some kind of journey, right?
I sigh and settle back in my chair. “Can I be real with you, Meem?”
“Please do.” She waves her hand for me to continue.
“On the one hand, I get what’s happening here. I even get who you are in the whole grand scheme of things.” In more than one of the movies I imbibed the day before, there was a wise older person—usually Santa, but not always—who was there to guide the heroine on her new journey to a totally boring life. Given Mimi’s presence at the restaurant the night before this whole thing, she has to be that person for me. A sort of fairy godmother, but the opposite.
Mimi raises one eyebrow as if daring me to continue.
“I’m the big-city girl. I’m loud and opinionated and make no apologies for putting my career first.” I hesitate for a second, but she doesn’t interrupt me. “I was rude to Ben on our date, and I plan to apologize to him for that as soon as we’re done here.” I didn’t actually plan to do that because I don’t know that I really owe him an apology, but something tells me it’s what Mimi wants from me.
“And what do you want to happen after that, Cam?”
“Truthfully? I want to go home.” I need to go home, need to get back to work, but I know my audience, and I know that’s not how to win over Mimi. So instead I play up another angle. “My grandmother and the rest of my family, they need me.” It’s not exactly a lie, though I certainly don’t mean it in the way she’s probably taking it.
“Why do you think you’re here?” Mimi settles back in her seat, mirroring my position.
“Because I put my career first?” Because I apparently pissed off somebody powerful big time and am paying for it now? Karma is a bitch and all.
