“Good,” she replies, hugging me back. “Busy day ahead, but once I have my coffee, I’ll survive.”
“It will be ready soon; the espresso machine is still warming up.”
She heads straight for the kitchen, grabbing a couple of scones, blueberry as always. We lean against the counter, chatting about nothing and everything.
“Have you heard the gossip?” Lily asks, taking a bite of her scone.
“I haven’t, but you know I live for it. What’s up?”
“You remember Everett Callahan? Henry’s older brother,” she asks.
My stomach does one of those flips.
“Oh yeah, he left ages ago. What about him?” I say, trying to sound like I am not really that interested when really all I can think about is the massive crush I had on him in high school. I can’t imagine what he looks like now. He either peaked in high school or he’s only gotten hotter. I’m hoping it’s the latter.
“He’s back. Mrs. Calloway swears she saw him driving into town late last night. Truck full of boxes. Straight to his parents’ place.”
I reach for a scone. “I thought he loved LA. Maybe he’s just visiting.”
“Maybe,” Lily says. “But Mrs. Calloway is usually right, and honestly, Lavender Creek could use a little excitement.”
I make her coffee, pour my own, and we change the subject. She tells me about some work drama, the usual. Lily stays until opening time, then grabs her to-go cup and heads out the door.
The bell rings as the first real paying customers arrive.
Bill and Sarah come in every morning without fail. They order black coffees and sit at the same corner table by the window. They’ve been married forever, and they still look at each other like they are sharing a secret.
Some mornings they talk. Some mornings they don’t. Either way, they are always together.
I hope I have that someday. Where the silence isn’t awkward, and all you need is to just sit and be with each other.
Not long after Vicky comes in with her daughter, Anna. Vicky moved here a few years ago after a bad divorce and landed a job at the doctor’s office in town as the receptionist. Anna is six, with bright eyes, curious, and full of ideas. She goes to school where Lily teaches.
They are easy to talk to, familiar.
Sometimes they make my chest ache in a way I don’t let anyone see.
I always thought I would be a mom.
At thirty-five, I imagined I would have two kids by now. Maybe three. A husband, a house not too far from my parents’ farm. I thought life would follow a timeline.
Instead, I poured everything I have into this café.
I focused on it with the devotion people use for their families. Every detail mattered. Every decision felt personal. And it paid off; I love this place. It’s my pride and joy.
But some days I wonder what comes next.
I have stopped telling myself that motherhood is still guaranteed. I have learned that nothing in life is guaranteed, including being a mother. I don’t let it bother me, but I don’t ignore it either. I have learned how to hold that sadness without letting it consume me.
Still, unless some impossibly handsome man drops from the sky, I might be doing life on my own.
And for now, I am okay with that.
Mostly.
3
Everett
