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CHAPTER 6AVA
“Why in the world would Dad need a probate lawyer?” Maggie asked Rose early the next morning as she poured coffee beans into a grinder. “He clammed right up when I asked him. Didn’t he, Ava?”
Across the dining room, where I was busy removing chairs from the tops of tables, I nodded. Dez definitely hadn’t wanted to talk about the lawyer.
Faint music—’80s classics—played from overhead speakers as Rose carefully poured half-and-half into a slim stainless steel carafe. “Can’t say I know why,” she finally said to Maggie, as if she had been weighing her words, trying to find the perfect balance.
I heard evasion in her undertones. She can’t say? Orwon’tsay?
I set another chair on the floor. There were eight tables in all. Each had a dark-stained wooden top with a white apron and legs, which reflected the color palette of the whole shop: black, white, and wood, with touches of gold here and there, like in the bakery case.
The timeless, classic décor didn’t match Maggie’s style at all—at least not from what I’d seen at her house. There, the bright and airy space had been done in pale greens and blues and creams, reminding me of a sea that reflected a cloudy sky. Thick area rugs covered tiled floors, squishy accent pillows dotted sofas and chairs, and plush throw blankets were draped invitingly. None of thatsoftnesswas present at Magpie’s, yet somehow both spaces felt inviting.
The menu didn’t seem to represent Maggie, either. At herplace, her spice cabinet held a wide variety of tins and her fridge had been full of foods and condiments with big flavors. The menu here was minimalist to say the least, offering only a sprinkling of drinks in just two sizes, small and large. There were hardly any specialty flavors and none that appeared to be seasonal, like pumpkin spice. It was September, after all. There were only two choices for milk: 2 percent and almond. No cold brew. No pour over. No frozen drinks.
On one hand, I questioned why the menu hadn’t been expanded over the years, but on the other, I was grateful that it was going to be easy to memorize. Currently the plan was that I’d work here Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, opening till noon. The pay was decent but there were no benefits other than all the coffee I could drink, which was a perk I appreciated because I wasn’t used to waking up so early.
The chirpy alarm I’d set on my cell phone had woken me at the crack of dawn, and I had automatically pressed the snooze button. When I finally blinked open my eyes, it had taken a second to remember where I was and why there had been dinosaur diagrams hanging on the wall.
Maggie’s son Noah was at Vanderbilt, studying earth and environmental sciences with hopes of being a paleontologist one day, something Maggie had told me he’d dreamed of since he was a small boy. I was impressed—and a little envious. What was it like to know what you wanted at such a young age? I was twenty-seven and still didn’t have a clue.
There had been only two photographs in Noah’s room, both tacked to the mirror above the dresser with yellowed tape. One was of Dez and a young boy, who I assumed was Noah, standing on a dock, wearing matching smiles and a look of pride as they lifted a scrawny-looking fish high in the air. The other picture was of an impossibly young Maggie holding a baby out in front of her, a comical look of what-in-the-hell-did-I-get-myself-into on her face as spit-up oozed down her shirt. She couldn’t have been much older than eighteen or nineteen, and the way she stared at the baby had filled me with warmth. It was as if, even in that distressing moment, she was saying withher eyes that she’d willingly let him spit up on her every minute of every day if she had to, because that’s just how much she loved him.
I set another chair on the floor of the coffee shop as Maggie said to Rose, “It’s strange, though, right? Something else to add to the long list of bizarre things going on with my father these days.”
After today’s shift, Maggie and I were going back to Dez’s house, and I was eager to see inside, since I hadn’t had the chance yesterday. In his rush not to miss his morning appointment, he had all but kicked us out, telling us to come back today for a full tour.
Maggie hadn’t out-and-out said so, but she had been worried about that appointment. I supposed I’d be worried too if it were my father who suddenly started acting strangely. Before she rushed off to the library last night, we’d shared a pizza for dinner. While we ate, she’d explained why she’d written the want ad in the first place and her hopes that I’d be able to help shed light on his odd behavior lately.
To me, Dez didn’t seem like a man who was failing in any way, shape, or form, but sometimes health troubles were well hidden. I knew that better than most. I had looked perfectly healthy when I was younger, but I hadn’t been. Not by a long shot.
Across the street, slivers of early-morning sunlight fell across the tops of the oak trees in the park. People were already headed toward the beach, pulling wagons of fishing gear. I’d seen a few Mermaids heading that way as well, and I hoped they’d bring their finds to the shop later on.
I caught my reflection in the picture window and smiled at the purple Magpie’s shirt I wore. It was going to be hot today, in the low nineties, so I’d thrown on a pair of shorts to complete the outfit. I was more than ready to start the first day of my new normal. Mynormallife.
Rose put the lid on the carafe, and the threads squeaked lightly as they tightened. “Might could be he’s getting his affairs in order. He’s sixty-eight now. Long past time to have it done. I’m fifty-two and had my will drawn up long ago.”
According to Maggie, Rose had worked at the coffee shop since it had opened, and just from the short time I’d seen her bustling about, I had little doubt she could run the place on her own. She’d given me a big hug when Maggie officially introduced us earlier, and also gave me her life in a nutshell: divorced with two grown children who both were raising families in the area, lived in Lower Alabama her whole life, loved the beach, coffee, and people.
Laughing, Rose added, “Made my kids co-executors instead of choosing one over the other. They can fight it out after I’m gone and then I don’t have to listen to the bickering. You’ve never seen two siblings who like to squabble so much. Felt like I was moderating a debate team more often than mothering. Do you have any siblings, Ava?”
The evasiveness I’d heard in her voice had now been replaced with diversion.
Curiouser and curiouser.
“An older brother. He lives in Oregon.” I kept in touch with texts and video calls but had yet to make a trip out to see him, since in my old life I didn’t travel. But now? Now I decided I should book a flight to see him. My first flight ever.
Maggie, however, wasn’t so easily distracted by Rose’s tactics. “Dad getting his affairs in order would make perfect sense if he was seeing an estate-planning attorney. But a probate one? Probate is only for handling estatesafterdeath. Right?”
Rose glanced up as she set the half-and-half container on the counter and sent me a silent plea, her eyes all but begging for help.
At seeing the look, I let a chair slip out of my hands. It crashed against the floor, the sound hurting my ears. “Sorry!”
Rose rushed around the counter, mouthingthank youas she did so. She bent and lifted the chair, setting it on its feet. “You should grab yourself a cup of coffee before we open. No offense, sugar pie, but you don’t look like you slept all that well last night.”
I didn’t take offense, because I hadn’t slept well. AfterMaggie had left for the library, I’d gone down to the beach and walked along the shoreline, reveling in the lap of the water against my ankles and the wind in my hair until the sun melted on the horizon. Back at Maggie’s, I’d watched her two goldfish, Mac and Cheese, swim around for a while. Then I’d texted with my mom, letting her know a little more about my new job with Dez—but not about the job at the coffeehouse. Or the fact that I was in Alabama. Not yet.
I’d tried to turn in early, but couldn’t fall asleep, so I watched old Esther Williams movies on my phone until almost midnight. When I finally settled in, unfamiliar noises kept me awake. The squeak of a strange mattress, the dull whirr of the ceiling fan, the whisper of curtains against the window frame. Outside, wind chimes had clinked, bugs chorused, and the waves, two blocks away, slapped against the beach in their endless ebb and flow.
