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His backroom assistant, a wiry eighteen-year-old named Phil Glassman, poked his head out from the back room with a vague grunt. His eyelids were still at half-mast. Poor Phil—a year and a half working here and he still couldn’t get used to the early hours.
“Philippe, you prepare the coffee,” Edmond said. “Autumn will start after she eats.”
“I’m fine,” I said, knowing there was no arguing with Edmond when it came to matters of the heart. Food, wine, and song were his cure-alls, and I had to admit the scone smelled amazing. I could use the comfort food.
Edmond ushered me to the back room, plopping me down on a chair. “Eat, ma chère. Eat and taste the sweetness in life, not the bitter, oui? You are too good for mortal men, but true love will find you. This I know.”
He patted my cheek and barked at Phil again as they prepared for the morning rush. I ate the scone and tried to take his words to heart. It helped. Not so much the food as the love baked into it.
There might be jobs in Amherst where I could make more money, but none of them had Edmond.
After the early morning rush, I hung up my apron, waved at Edmond and biked back to campus. My first class of the day was Intro to Economics with Environmental Applications, a course both in line with my humanitarian career goals and that satisfied a general ed requirement. Win-win.
I always sat in the front row of my classes, taking notes until my fingers cramped. I envied the students who captured the lecture on their smart phones. My phone was more than a few incarnations behind the latest model, and I didn’t want to wear it out.
After class, a text came in from Ruby:
Lunch on the quad?
Usual spot, I typed back.
I’ll be the super hot one in the yoga pants.
I grinned. Whereas I never left the house without looking as put-together as possible, Ruby Hammond could hardly be bothered to wear matching shoes.
The sun was brilliant that September morning. I loved the Amherst campus with its miles of rolling green grass stretched along Federal-style buildings of red brick. Trees dotted the green where students basked in the late summer sun, talking and reuniting after the summer break.
Whether you were in kindergarten or college, the first day of school seemed to hold a special feeling of possibility. Like one of my dad’s mornings, where amazing things could happen.
Ruby and I had claimed a wrought iron street lamp in front of the Admin building as ‘our place.’ She was waiting
for me, stretched out on the grass, wearing the promised yoga pants and a wrinkled baseball-style shirt. Her dark hair was tied up in a messy bun and she shielded her eyes with a caramel-colored hand.
We’d been paired up randomly as freshman roommates, and despite our differences, we hit it off at once. I kept our place clean, and in exchange, she kept me laughing when my studies threatened to bury me.
“Here we go again,” Ruby said, greeting me with a smile. “Same Bat-time, same Bat-place. Same same-same. Are we in a rut?”
I folded my dress under me as I knelt beside her. “It’s the first day of class. We can’t be in a rut already.” My smile slipped. “And not everything is the same.”
Ruby frowned, and dug into her bag for her lunch. “You’re right. That cheating asshole is out of the picture. Can’t say I’m sorry.”
“I can,” I said, smoothing my skirt.
“Hey,” Ruby said, touching my hand. “I’m no good at saying the right thing to make you feel better. This we know. But in a month, my thoughtless commentary will be just what you want to hear.”
“I know. I wish I could fast-forward.”
“Fucker,” Ruby muttered, and leaned back on her elbows to survey the activity on the quad. “On the bright side, Amherst has no shortage of fine-ass men to distract you from your problems.” She jerked her chin to a group of guys tossing around a football. “Mmhmm. No shortage at all.”
I rolled my eyes and drew out my own lunch—a salad with dried cranberries and feta cheese, and a bottle of iced tea. “Pass.”
“Girl—”
“Ruby, please,” I said. “It’s only been three months.”
“I’m not suggesting anything serious. I’m talking purely sexual encounters of the meaningless kind.” She smiled gently. “I know, I know. Not your thing. I just hate seeing you hurt. Mark’s a damn fool and you can quote me.”
I took a bite of salad and let my gaze follow Ruby’s to the guys throwing a football. My eyes kept landing on a tall boy with broad shoulders and a wide, charming smile. Even at a distance, something about that flashing smile was comforting. Like one of Edmond’s scones. A smile that made it seem like all was right in the world.
