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4 Lattes

JAMES AND I SPENT AN extra two hours in the Little Acorn on Sunday evening, poring over the accounts, taking turns to make more coffee as we sat side by side. And the accounts really were a mess. There were so many unpaid bills, and so many random scrawls that neither of us could make out.

But James was smart. Or he was obviously good at math, at least, and by the end of the two hours we had some really depressing—but very real—numbers to look at.

“What are we going to do?” James ran his hand through his hair, and I watched as it fell back into place. I’d taken my own hair out of its ponytail, and it dropped in red waves all the way down my back. The “we” in his sentence made me feel warm.

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.” I picked a yellow chrysanthemum from the little vase in front of us.

“Oh yeah? Because from where I’m standing, the only option is closing.”

“The Little Acorn can’t close!” I’m sure I looked horrified. “Where would people go? Listen, we’ll do some events outside normal opening hours. We’ll do whatever it takes … ooh, and we could raise money to save the Kissing Tree while we’re at it. That would get people to come out for sure.” Why hadn’t I thought of this sooner?

There was a flash of amusement in his eyes. “That’s a pretty big proposal. What are your ideas?”

“Well, I don’t have any … yet … but I will. I’m not just going to stand by and watch the Little Acorn shut down. And I’m definitely not okay with cutting down the Kissing Tree! No one is.”

James was looking at me like I’d lost the plot.

“Why do you care so much about some stupid tree?”

Suddenly, I really did.

“It’s not just some stupid tree. It’s a symbol of our whole town. It’s history, and love, and connecting people to each other. Cutting down that tree would be like cutting the whole heart out of Oak Falls …”

Even I hadn’t realized I was quite so passionate.

“Or maybe it’s because you want to kiss Penn State underneath it …”

“Who? What are you even talking about?”

“Carter Blake? Two years below me in school and even I knew who he was.” Any hint of amusement in his eyes had disappeared.

“What? No. That isn’t why. It’s about the town, and the people. And wait, why do you care about Carter Blake?” I was so confused.

“I don’t. I don’t care about him, or the tree. I don’t even want to be here right now.”

All our teamwork was gone, just like that. James stood, picked up our cups, and carried them behind the counter, accidentally kicking a ceramic pumpkin on his way.

“Do you really think the floor is a good place for pumpkins?” he snapped.

“Do you really think hospitality is a good place for you?” I shot back.

My heart was racing with frustration. I was only trying to help.

“No, Red, obviously not. But I don’t have any choice. I have to help my dad until he can come back.” James put on his jacket and took mine off the hook, along with my green scarf.

Red. Suddenly I was back under the Kissing Tree, with James and his cut knees. My throat went tight. Did he remember?

He stood at the door and held my coat out for me. “I’ll walk you home.”

“Why would I want to walk home with you?” I demanded, just short of folding my arms.

“Because it’s dark, Red, and it’s good manners. And someone told me once that manners cost nothing.”

My whole body froze. Then it thawed as I realized he could have heard that phrase from a thousand people, a thousand different times. Not just when I said it to him at the tree. He was still holding out my coat so I could put my arms into it. So I did, and I stood there as he wrapped my green scarf around my neck, making sure to put it over my mouth.