Eudora
After the initial opening party, the café developed some immediate regulars. True, Eudora was one of them. So was Willet Smith, who was always trying to strike up a conversation with her. In fact, he would wait by the front door before they opened each day, which Leah found charming and Brad found exasperating. “That man,” he muttered. “Here for anything, as long as it isn’t a book.”
Eudora felt Leah’s gaze land on her. “I think Willet is here for more than baked goods,” she suggested. “What are your thoughts on the matter, Eudora?”
Well. Eudora didn’t know anything about that, nor was she going to dignify it. “I think I have some knitting to get to. My group will be in shortly.”
“Willet’s in the café, if you’d like some company,” Leah added.
As far as company went, Willet Smith was not as grumpy as he looked, once you got to know him, and that’s exactly what had happened that summer. Sometimes when he brought invegetables, he’d sit down at the project table in the studio and watch what everyone was doing. At first it annoyed Eudora; those seats were for customers. There was enough room for all, however. Plus, Willet always left a bag of mixed vegetables for each staff member; she noticed hers was heavier on the heirlooms she so favored.
She found her way into the café. Immediately Willet looked up. “Can I buy you a coffee?” he asked. “The mocha latte sounded like a whole lot of fuss to me, but it’s actually not terrible.”
“Thank you, but I think I’ll have a cup of tea.”
Willet stood, reaching around for his wallet. “No, no,” Eudora said, noticing his cup was empty. “This one’s on me.”
She ordered a tea for herself and another latte for Willet, then joined him at the little red table for two by the window. Predictably, Willet needed to warm up with a weather commentary. “Looks to be another hot one,” he said, rubbing the stubble on his chin. Milton was such a careful shaver, not scruffy like Willet. Still, it suited him somehow.
“Yes, my Shasta daisies are loving it. As are my coneflowers.”
Willet considered this. “Those are pretty, but you can’t eat flowers.”
“I don’t feel the need to eat everything I plant,” she told him. “Life is also about beauty.”
“Beauty.” He rolled the word around on his tongue. “Beauty is nice, too.” The way he was looking at her made her shift in her seat. Where was Lucy with that tea?
Willet cleared his throat. “I read in the news that there’s going to be an art show this weekend. That artist you mentioned the other day that you like so much—Amy Ross is her name?”
Eudora was surprised. She’d forgotten all about the conversation she’d had with one of her knitters a while ago; Willet must’ve been listening. “Why, yes, I enjoy her watercolors immensely.”
“Well, she’s coming to the Cape in August.” He unfolded a newspaper clipping and slid it across the table to her.
Eudora scanned the article. “She’s coming to Provincetown! How did I miss this?” Eudora had two pieces by Amy hanging in her living room. Milton had once brought her to an opening in Sandwich, where they purchased their first piece, a watercolor of Chatham Bay. “It’s been years since I’ve been to one of her shows.”
Willet cleared his throat. “Would you like to go with me?”
“With you?” Luckily, Lucy arrived with their beverages. It gave Eudora a moment to collect her thoughts. She busied herself stirring sugar into her tea. Eudora never took sugar in her tea. As Willet waited, she added more. “That might be nice,” she said, finally. When she looked at him through the steam of their mugs, his face fell.
“But you don’t want to go.”
“No! It’s just that I need to check my calendar. And Provincetown is kind of far.”
“Just an hour,” he said. “I can drive.”
If Willet drove the way he walked, as she suspected he did, it would likely take even longer. What he didn’t understand was that every minute out and about equated to anxiety rising. Eudora didn’t do anything an hour outside of her house, except for the Sandy Page, which didn’t count. Driving made her anxious, and being a passenger was possibly worse. If her anxiety flared,she’d have the added burden of disappointing Willet. No, it was too much to even consider. “I’ll take a look and let you know,” she said, sipping her tea. It was horribly sweet. She would have to dump it out, just as she’d have to find a way to politely dump Willet’s offer.
“Well, the offer stands. Just let me know.” Willet finished his mocha latte and bid her goodbye. “Enjoy the summer squash. I left you a bag at the register.”
Eudora waved goodbye, a lump already forming in her stomach.
When knitting group started, she was cheered by the sight of Lucy in the studio doorway. She held a small canvas bag. “Is it alright if I join today?”
Eudora had thought the girl would never ask. As the other knitters arrived and settled in, Lucy shared the progress on the scarf she’d started with Eudora weeks ago. “My goodness, you’ve been knitting all this time?” There was enough length to wrap around an elephant’s neck.
“I never stopped,” Lucy said shyly. “I just didn’t have time for the group.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re back,” Eudora told her. She knew Lucy had needed time to forgive her, and she didn’t blame her. Eudora had let her guidance counselor hat weigh heavier on her head than her good sense. Lucy’s family news had never been hers to share, and even though she’d done so with good intentions, she felt bad. “And I owe you an apology. I should not have shared your family business with Leah. What I should have done was ask you, first.”
