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“That depends. Do you like her? Do you see yourself with her long-term, or is it just for fun?” There was no disapproval in Mom’s voice.
“I think it could be more.” Whether Brooke allowed anything to develop was another matter.
“Then the other stuff doesn’t matter.”
“I think it does to her.”
“That girl always took life so seriously.” There was no censure in my mom’s voice, only admiration. “Maybe you could make her see things a different way.”
“I’m the same.”
“You moved here to give Cammie a better life. I’d say you understand what’s important.”
Maria’s dying put everything into perspective. The hours I’d been working. How much I’d already missed of Cammie’s life.
“And who says you have to compete? Can’t you find a way to coexist?”
That sounded great. I’d love for both of us to be successful. But was that realistic?
“Think about it.”
My phone buzzed with an income call. Seeing it was Christopher calling, I answered, “Hey.”
“Sorry to call you on your morning off, but we have a problem.”
I frowned, moving out of the kitchen into the living room. “What’s going on?”
“The espresso machine is acting up, and I can’t take a look at it because of the line.”
I gripped my neck in frustration. “Were you able to call the repairman?”
“I called you first. Thought you should know.”
“No problem. I’ll call him on my way.” I wasn’t upset with Christopher. He’d made the right call.
“I have to get back.” Christopher hung up.
Moving back into the kitchen, I asked, “Do you mind watching Cammie for a few hours? I need to take care of something at the store.”
“We missed her. It’s no trouble.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, kissing her cheek. My heart swelled with the love for my parents. They’d stepped up since I’d moved back, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
I jogged down the steps to tell Cammie the news. She was so absorbed in her video games and trash-talking my dad that she didn’t seem to mind that I was leaving.
Things had to slow down soon. I headed to the coffee shop, calling the repairman on the way. It was Sunday, so I didn’t expect him to pick up, but I left a message. I wasn’t sure of the trouble, but just said it wasn’t working and asked if he could return my call as soon as possible. Things didn’t work quite as quickly in a small town as in a big city.
It was Sunday, one of the store’s busiest days, and it was only my second weekend in business. I didn’t want to get the reputation of having broken machines. We needed espresso for most of our drinks.
My mom’s prediction that two coffee shops could coexist wouldn’t matter if mine didn’t get off the ground. The closer to the shop I got, the more my stress increased. I needed it to work. I didn’t want to get a corporate job in the city away from my parents, where I wouldn’t have any help.
Getting out of the car, I hurried to pull open the door and saw the line was small. Christopher was talking to the person at the counter, apologizing for the espresso machine. I moved behind him to take a look at the machine. Unfortunately, I wasn’t good at fixing things, but I did a quick search online to see if there were any suggestions.
Christopher moved to look over my shoulder. “I can try a few things if you handle the customers.”
“You have a better shot at figuring it out than I do.” I moved to the counter. My shoulders felt tighter each time I had to tell the customers we didn’t have the specialty coffees. But we still had basic coffee, which was the bread and butter of the store. So, I spun my magic, talking up the whole beans and encouraging people to try them.
I gave them the drinks for free. It hurt, but I wanted customers to feel good when they left Bean Rush, not frustrated.
