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“Thinking of me, huh? Have we moved to that level in our relationship?” Mack’s tone was airy, but Charlie froze.
It’s like she can read my face.
“Ha. No. Well, yes. I guess…” The coffee drink stopper in Charlie’s hand became her new best friend as she focused on bowing it between her fingers. “I was gonna check if you were still emotionally damaged by the grandpa with the strategically placed amphibian sock from Saturday.”
“Thanks for that. The memory started fading, but now it is front and center.”
Charlie giggled and tossed the plastic in the recycling. “You want your usual?”
“Actually, a decaf.” Mack’s lips shifted to a disappointed side grin. “I know, I know. Caffeinated enthusiasts everywhere are shedding a tear into their double lattes. But I’ve had a craptastic couple nights’ sleep and need to do everything possible to stay asleep tonight.”
“Oh yeah? Got visions of purple pasties dancing in your head?” Charlie swiped Mack’s credit card and moved to the espresso machine. She tried to breathe through the swarm of butterflies frolicking in her belly.
“I wish.” Mack flopped on a chair and rested her elbows on the counter. “Nah. I just… I think I told you I have a book signing coming up, right?”
“Is that this week?” Charlie flattened her palm against the tamper to press the ground decaf, then dumped the shot glass of decaf espresso into a cup.
“Three days away,” Mack said. “Stuff like that is the worst part of being a writer. I just want to write. I don’t want to shake hands, autograph, and smile for six hours. I’m not trying to sound like an ass. For real. It’s just exhausting.”
Exhausting? Sounded like heaven. Like submerging yourself in a love jacuzzi.
Charlie set Mack’s cup down before her and dragged the stool from under the till. Being this close to Mack was more difficult today than it had been before. The Solstice Parade cracked an invisible barrier between them, officially moving them from customer/barista to friends.
Charlie scooted back the chair to the comfortable zone. “I can understand that.”
“Can you, though?” The words were harsh, but the tone was soft. “You talk and smile with people all day long. I do it for a few hours and dream of an ice bath to knock me back into alignment.”
“I guess it’s possible that I’m maybe more…”
“Friendly? Nice? Approachable?”
“I was going to say more extroverted than you.” Charlie twisted open a water bottle. “I love being around people. Crowds, concerts, whatever. All their… shazam… gets sucked into this vitality vortex, and I plug into it and recharge. People make me feel good.”
Silence tortured Charlie with memories. Like watching a movie with her dad, the familiar scent of whiskey trailing from his breath. Holding her raggedy doll while waiting for hours when he said he just had to run to the store. Paying two college guys with a six-pack of disgusting domestic beer to help her and Jess lug their Craigslist-purchased couch up four flights of stairs to their first apartment. Curling up on her bed, showerless and nauseated, trembling as she signed the divorce papers.
Mack popped a small piece of scone in her mouth. “But you understand how I feel?”
“Of course. I mean, maybe it is being around others that exhausts you. But to me, it sounds like theperformanceis tiring. Being someone you’re not for that long would wear anyone down.”
Mack’s head tilted, and she nibbled on her bottom lip for a second before straightening her back. “Maybe I just don’t like people?”
The bell snapped Charlie’s focus to the door. Really? No customers for hours, and now one came in with…what the heck?She moved to the register and stared directly at nothing but the man’s face. “Hey, there. What can I get for you?”
The man scratched at his chin and studied the menu. “Chocolate mocha with extra whipped.”
Do. Not. Giggle.“Sure thing.”
“This little guy here loves to lick the whipped cream.” He patted the baby carrier strapped to his chest.
“I bet.” Charlie used all her strength to avoid Mack’s eyes. She reached for the milk as the water hissed over the beans.
“What a great little place you have here.” The man paced the café and used his thick index finger to poke at the pictures, the plants, and the tables. “How long have you been in business?”
“Just had our six-month anniversary.”
He moseyed back the counter. “I run a lot of executive meetings. Do you ever rent out the whole space?”
No chance this guy ran executive meetings.
