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CHAPTER 3
∞∞∞
The sun’s shining pleasantly on my face, while I look around me on the busiest street of all of Charlington. Main street is the street where most businesses are. I see people going into the stores, getting all the stuff they need. We’re old fashioned in Charlington, you just buy your shit. Nobody trusts the great mighty online, so shops are busy. Now when I say busy, I mean that I can see like five people at this moment, but for our standards it’s a crowded street. I park my bike outside of a little café I didn’t know before, as I act like I’m still deciding where I’m going when in actuality, I already know. Most of the stores in Charlington have been there forever, but this café opened a couple of years back according to my parents. My online search has taught me that it’s a lot more modern than what I’m used to from Charlington, and the whole website gave me this Californian vibe, with its bright colors and healthy food options. When I looked at the menu a few days ago, they offered actual avocado toast and chai lattes. Without being ironic. If I would ever see those items on the menu at The Lazy Burger, I would be certain someone was shitting me.
After writing at home for the last couple of days, it’s necessary to get a change of scenery and go out for a bit. The deadlines aren’t going to go away by themselves, so I still have some work to do. Armed with my laptop bag, I enter Roots and stop in the entry as I have a good look around. The interior is all white and there are plants everywhere, giving off a vibrant vibe. On the walls is an azure blue stroke that surrounds the space, with a golden border around it. It’s a breath of fresh air.
In front of the window, is a high bar with barstools. All white with golden details. The spot screams my name, and I’m ready to claim it, plant my flag so to speak.
“Good morning,” I say to the lady who’s bent over the counter as she’s wiping a rag over it. “Can I seat myself?”
“Of course hunny, pick anywhere you like,” a lady with gorgeous blond curls says. It’s the kind of curls you see people on Instagram with, telling you how pretty natural curls can be. She looks cute and peppy and is wearing an outfit I’m fairly certain I’ve seen in a magazine a while back. It makes me kind of jealous, because I know diddlysquat about fashion.
“Wednesdays are our slowest mornings. It seems all the mommy clubs gather on Wednesdays, so they’re otherwise occupied and don’t come over here. Now just wait until three,” she says as she points a finger at me, “when the rush hour starts because they all need to be properly caffeinated again.”
Chuckling, I walk over to the bar, picking out where I want to sit. I go for the spot next to the wall, because I see a power socket there and I might need that later on, and having to change where I was seated after I’d already sat down was something I tried to avoid doing at all costs. Counter-lady seems to be happy to have a customer, so I’m happy to fulfill that role for her. I pick up the menu, pretending I didn’t already study it meticulously, and zone in on the items I already decided I’m going to order. Yep, they’re still on the menu since I looked it up online yesterday. I’m all set. I put the menu back down, and open up my laptop to set up shop.
The waitress walks up to me with a notebook in her hands.
“What can I get you, hun?”
“I’ll have a large chai latte, and the avocado toast, please.”
She starts scribbling.
“Whole wheat, rye or white?”
“Uhm, let’s go with the whole wheat.” Look at me, making healthy choices. I mentally high-five myself. She nods while she keeps writing. Then she chuckles.
“Here I am, scribbling everything down like you’re not our only customer. Some habits are hard to put aside I guess.”
I look her in the eyes. She smiles at me with soft eyes, making me think she must be friendly, even if I’ve never seen her before in my life. Which is odd for me, because I’m familiar with practically everybody in Charlington, and people don’t tend to move here. They mostly seem to move away, looking for something bigger and better.
“I’m Morgan,” I offer.
“Nice to meet you, Morgan. I’m Shelby.”
“I haven’t seen you around before?”
“Oh, you’re from here?”
I nod as she squints her eyes, but there’s no recognition in there.
“I didn’t know. Yeah. I married Stan Stefans three years back. I moved here when we got hitched. Started Roots soon after, because I’d rather pick out my eyeballs with a fork than not make myself useful.”
That leaves me with a colorful visual.
“Your café is amazing. I love the vibe. Reminds me of the coast. I’ve just moved back after being in California for the last eight years, but I’m a Charlington OG.”
“Get out of here, I was going for a coastal vibe!” Her eyes light up a our newfound common ground. “I’ll go make your latte and make sure you get your food.”
I smile at her. She definitely has her priorities straight. Roots turns out to be an excellent place to to settle down and get some work done, while also getting a change of scenery.
You know those episodes on one of those TV channels about food, where the chef’s visiting new places and eating the local food and then drooling and fangirling over what he’s getting? That’s me eating my avocado toast. It’s that good. I don’t know if it’s me missing California or just being really into avocado toast, but all my culinary needs are fulfilled for the day. The chai latte is great as well, but in my opinion, you can never go wrong with cinnamon.
In the meantime, I’ve written half a chapter. It’s a good writing day so far. The words flow and my characters are behaving. If I could work for a couple more hours at this pace, I won’t have to work all day. Shelby stops by to take my empty plate away and I order some tea when my phone pings.
Mom: Miss you sweety. Dad wants to know if you’ve watered the lawn. Don’t tell the controlling asshole though. We’re now going to a Parmesan factory. I can tell you now, I’m not using the spit bucket. *kiss emoji*
