Page 57 of Cackle

She laughs. “Right.”

“Just wanted to confirm.”

“Common misconception,” she says. “I was thinking more along the lines of a donut. Or muffin. We can go to the bakery after we get our coffee. Have you met Deirdre yet? She’s a singular talent.”

“I haven’t.”

“We’ll fix that.”

“What do you want for coffee? Latte?”

“Whatever you’re getting. Make things simple for Oskar,” she says. “Poor bloke.”

He looks up at us. He does have sad eyes. Or maybe they’re angry. I can’t tell.

“Good morning, Annie,” he says. “Good morning, Sophie.”

“Morning,” Sophie says.

“Two vanilla lattes, please,” I say. “Large.”

He grunts. He is significantly less friendly when Sophie is around.

To be fair, I think Sophie gets a kick out of making him uncomfortable. As he steams the milk, she begins to twirl her fingers, somehow contorting the steam cloud into a grumpy face. He pretends not to notice, but I know he does.

Sophie presses her lips together, trying not to laugh. I do. I laugh. I can’t help it.

“Here you go,” he says. “It’s eleven.”

I pay him, then allow Sophie to lead me away. We walk over to a tent where baked goods are sold. Rose is there talking to a woman wearing an apron over a mustard jumpsuit. She has a shaved head and wears big wooden earrings.

“Deirdre,” Sophie says.

Deirdre jumps a little at the sound of Sophie saying her name.

“Sophie!” she says, her voice shrill. “Good morning, Sophie. How are you? What can I get for you?”

“Have you met Annie?” she asks.

“No, I haven’t. Rose told me about you.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you. Hi, Rose.”

Rose is also less friendly with Sophie around. She gives a weak smile, then slips behind Deirdre.

“I made some strawberry-pistachio donuts,” Deirdre says. “Here, take some. I can throw in some muffins, too. I’ve got apple and carrot.”

She begins to fill a large box with pastries and donuts and muffins.

“The apple muffins are really scrumptious. We’ve had a wonderful crop of apples this year, Sophie. Really wonderful.”

“Yes,” Sophie says, “we have.”

Rose holds open a bag for Deirdre to set the box inside. It’s difficult for them because their hands are trembling.

“Thank you,” Sophie says, taking the bag. “Enjoy your day. Annie, let’s go.”

“Thank you!” I tell Deirdre.