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ONE
SALLY
I sipon my hot coffee, welcoming the warmth as it spreads through my body. Finally, my fingers are wiggling comfortably, no longer stiff. It may be March, but March in Kastle Harbor, Maine, still means winter weather. It tends to be chilly still, especially early in the morning. I pull my long hair back into a ponytail while I wait for my boss to join me for our new morning routine.
Before moving to this picturesque small town, I lived in the heart of New York. When I worked with my boss Jake in the city our meetings started when he entered the office and finished once he was settled behind his desk. Nowadays we both meet at the Sprinkles Bakery & Café, collect our coffee and breakfast choices, then settle at a table in the café area. I try to pick a spot by the windows. It’s a little quieter and provides us with some natural lighting.
Everything runs at a slower pace here. I’m not sure if I’m a fan yet, although it’s nice to sip my coffee and savor the different roasts the bakery carries.
Maybe it’s the born and raised New Yorker in me, but I love a strong, plain, black coffee. I’m partial to a nuttier option, but the bakery has been carrying a lot of roasts with a heavy fruit note such as blueberry or cherry lately. They’re good, just not perfect. At least to me.
It took a few weeks for me to nestle myself into this new routine, but I think I’m starting to get used to it now. I had to adapt quickly anyways. I look at my left hand, ring free now for the first time in years. I don’t want to think about the past few months. I’ve cried too many tears.
Kastle Harbor, Maine, is my new home. Might as well get cozy.
I stare into my coffee cup as Jake talks to his fiancée Violet behind the counter. She’s the head baker here. We should be going over this coming week’s schedule, but I know Jake won’t be able to focus until he’s checked in with Violet. A baker’s hours are vastly different than a lawyer’s hours. I know these small interactions between the two of them are important.
I feel my cheeks tighten, a small smile spreads as I continue to sip on my coffee. I like Jake and Violet together. They’re good for each other. And I’m even happier that Jake finally settled down. He seems to be over the moon about everything even slightly related to Kastle Harbor or Violet. However, it’s hard not to be bitter about my recent turn of events.
Jake came to Kastle Harbor and fell in love. He moved from the city because he’s head over heels for Violet. Their whirlwind Christmas romance led to Jake proposing after only a couple months of knowing each other. Only a cheesy rom-com type of timeline could compete with how quickly they moved from meeting to planning a wedding.
I agreed to move here and continue my position with Jake and his firm because I needed a fresh start. The divorce was finalized right after the new year. The love of my life, my everything, decided to throw away our many years of love and commitment. He cheated, got caught, and now I’m drinking coffee in a café in a small coastal town.
I’ve thought about drowning my sorrows in something a little stronger, but for now my days are filled with work and a lot of caffeine.
I sigh, letting my shoulders slump.
At least it’s delicious coffee.
* * *
Victor
As the brisk Maine air hits my face, I wish I was back in Brazil on the coffee farm. I much prefer overseeing the process of growing, harvesting, and washing beans over the whole retail aspect of the roastery business. Thankfully, I have my twin sister, Marie, to help run Moon Brew Coffee Roastery. With her history with planes, she refuses to fly anywhere. So she stays in Kastle Harbor year-round and I spend my winters in Brazil.
For me it’s a win-win situation. I get to miss the whole snowy, picturesque, small-town part of living in New England. While most people probably love it, I am not a fan of snow. I’d much rather be under the hot sun, sweating all the time, rather than trekking through snowy roads.
But our business has been busy lately and Marie needed me back in Kastle Harbor earlier than usual this spring. Which is how I find myself doing bean deliveries in March when I’d normally still be soaking up the sun’s rays in Brazil.
I park the delivery van in front of the colorful, quaint bakery. The neon cupcake sign glows dimly in the early sunlight. A little bell dings as I enter the bakery. It’s like being transported to a different world as you enter. Bethany McFarlan, the owner, completed renovations not too long ago but I must have missed the painting while I was away during the winter.
Every surface is either a crisp, clean white, or a vibrant looking pastel. Shelves are robin’s egg blue or bubblegum pink. The artwork ranges from black and white photos of Paris to rainbow abstract pieces of pastries. It should feel chaotic and uninviting but it’s not. Honestly, when paired with the neon sign outside, the inside is exactly what you would think a place named Sprinkles Bakery & Café should look like.
The café part is where I come in. My sister and Bethany are close friends. It didn’t take long for the two of them to work out how our two businesses could work together and benefit each other. In a small town full of locally owned businesses, we all try to stick together if we can. The kind of town where once people move you never want to leave. But the call of the ocean, constant sunshine and welcome heat have me taking that four thousand, two hundred, fifty-two mile trip.
I look around the bakery trying to find Bethany. She’s usually easy to find. With head full of curly, vivid red hair, and an outfit that rivals a box of French macaroons, she tends to stand out. I see Violet talking to some guy at the counter, but no sign of Bethany. I scan the small crowd milling about and sitting at tables. It’s bustling with a lot of regulars. I return waves to a few people.
My breath catches when I spot a blonde sitting alone by one of the windows. I’m mesmerized as she pulls her hair up in a ponytail. She looks elegant, her strawberry red lips holding the hair tie as her fingers run through her long, pale hair. She’s in a world of her own as she finishes her task and goes to sip on her coffee.
I need to find Bethany, to talk about the current delivery and the bakery’s needs, but I stand where I am and continue to watch the blonde. She’s wearing navy slacks and a matching jacket. She’s smiling now, her eyes looking off in the distance. Interesting, she’s watching Violet and the man at the counter.
Odd, I find myself a little jealous.
Why is she still watching the duo?
I start to walk towards her. I want to know her name, to hear her voice. But I shake those thoughts away and make my way to counter. I still need to find Bethany.
“Hey Violet,” I say with a small wave as I get near the counter.
