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He needed to find her. To try and explain, if she’d listen.
“Mom, you mind if I leave for a while?” he asked, approaching the counter.
“No, go ahead,” she said with a distracted smile. “Tanya will be in soon. Can you do me a favor and pick up a nine-foot Christmas tree while you’re out? I didn’t have time to get one.”
“Sure,” he said. That was exactly what he wanted to do.
She gave him an appreciative smile and turned back to her customer. He could tell by the tightness around her eyes that she was annoyed. He didn’t blame her. She had a lot on her plate with this place, not to mention worrying about his dad. Thank goodness for Tanya. She was their part-time help who had been doing a lot more than her share lately.
He ran out the front door, looking up and down the Riverwalk at all the people milling about, the random fire pits and standing heaters, but he didn’t see Roni or her friend anywhere. He hurried to his dad’s truck that he’d been borrowing ever since he arrived and drove downtown. He pulled into the park across the street from her coffee shop and parked.
Her friend, who’d been in her shop wearing the elf costume last night, took a picture of a child sitting on Santa’s lap. He smiled as it occurred to him why she was dressed in an elf costume. He watched them and thought again about Gerald back in Denver wanting more Christmas included in his paintings and wondered if maybe he should give in and create one or two.
He looked at Roni’s coffee shop across the street and decided to wait a few minutes to get his thoughts in order. He took out the camera he always carried with him and took a few pictures of the park and all the decorations.
Not a lot, just enough to distract him from his nervousness over having to talk to Roni. Instead of walking toward her coffee shop, he turned and continued down Main Street, snapping pictures. One thing Pineville excelled at was Christmas. Maybe if he took enough, he’d find one that would interest him enough to paint it.
Once he’d stalled long enough, he turned and made his way back to Coffee Corner and walked in, not even minding the Christmas jingling of the bells above the door. Unlike the big open space of Frankie’s, Roni’s place was divided into two rooms. The small room up front held the counter and a few tables, but the second larger room held several tables all different sizes and shapes surrounding a big stone fireplace. Behind it, and down a few steps, was a cozy sunroom.
The mixed bag of tables, chairs, and fabrics was charming, homey even, and completely different than his parents’ modern open-concept shop with multiple power outlets at every table.
Unfortunately, there weren’t very many patrons.
You would think with the Santa booth in the park there would be more people milling around, but the entire downtown area seemed empty. Especially compared to the Riverwalk. Apparently, the shopping area was doing more damage to downtown Pineville than to just Roni’s place. Maybe it wasn’t his parents’ coffee shop, but the Riverwalk itself causing the problems.
He approached the counter and the young woman standing behind it. “Is Roni around?”
She shook her head. “Sorry. She took the morning off.”
Disappointment filled him. Why hadn’t he stuck around last night and talked to her then? “Do you know when she’ll return?”
“No. Sorry,” she repeated. He could tell she wasn’t sorry. She just wanted him to order or leave. “You want something?” she asked.
“Sure. What do you recommend?”
She shrugged. “Peppermint lattes are a crowd favorite.”
“How about something non-Christmassy. I’ll take a regular latte.”
She got to work. That’s when he noticed the large Siamese cat peering at him from a cat tree behind the counter. The cat’s stare was making him distinctly uncomfortable. Maybe having a cat in the coffee shop was why Roni was losing business.
“That’s Spooky,” Roni said, coming up behind him.
He turned to face her. “Name fits.”
Her gaze hardened and narrowed with suspicion. “What wrong with Christmas drinks?”
Confusion furrowed his brow.
“You don’t like peppermint?” she asked almost as if she took it as a personal affront.
“I like peppermint. Just not in my coffee,” he clarified.
She peered at him as deeply as the cat had a moment earlier. “Word is you don’t like Christmas.”
“Who said that?” He heard the defensiveness in his tone and cringed.
She shrugged. “Rumors. You know how small towns are. So do you?”
