Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Nolan
H er laugh hits me first. Not the polite chuckle I've heard her use in meetings, but something real and bright that carries across the coffee shop. Kathryn's sitting with Jake near the newly installed Wishing Wall, her hands animated as she talks, her smile wider than I've seen it.
"And then," Jake's saying as I approach, "she actually convinced the health inspector to write a wish."
"He did not!" But Kathryn's already laughing again, and something twists in my chest at how easily they fit together.
The wall behind them is starting to fill with colorful cards. Sophia moves around them with her camera, capturing different angles, while Kathryn and Jake share another joke I'm not part of.
"Coffee?" Annie appears at my elbow with a knowing look.
"Please." I follow her to the counter, trying not to watch how Jake leans in when Kathryn speaks, how natural they look together. "They seem close."
"Mmm." Annie starts the espresso machine. "Jake's been telling us about their Wilmington days. Apparently, Kathryn was one of the first people to believe in his crazy wall idea."
Of course she was.
"It's sweet, really." Annie continues, steaming milk. "The whole coffee shop family thing they had going. Jake would read the wishes every morning, try to figure out who could help who. Kathryn would stay late matching people up."
"Sounds efficient."
Annie gives me a look. "Sounds like you're jealous."
"I'm not—" But I'm saved by Sophia joining us at the counter.
"Your lighting is gorgeous in here." She shows me a few shots on her camera. "The way the morning sun hits the brick? Perfect for capturing community moments."
I study the photos, trying not to notice how many feature Kathryn's smile. "You do this professionally?"
"Started as a hobby while covering the Wishing Wall story for my news station." She accepts a tea from Annie. "Now Jake and I inspire wishing walls all over the country. People helping people. It's addictive."
"Seems complicated."
"Oh, it is." She laughs. "You should have seen his first attempt. Jake had this grand vision of changing the world one wish at a time. I came across it on assignment. It sounded better than working on yet another piece about seasonal coffee drinks."
"Was it?"
"Of course." She nods toward where Jake is explaining something to Kathryn, his hands sketching shapes in the air. "I watched him connect people who never would have found each other otherwise. Pretty soon I was as invested as he was."
"And now you're married."
"And now we're married." She studies me over her tea. "Though that wasn't part of the original business plan."
I catch her meaning but choose to ignore it. "Small towns are different. People here... they're not always open to change."
"Neither was I." She pulls up another photo—an elderly man hugging a young girl. "This is Sarah Thompson, the girl who needed reading help, with Mr. Collins, the retired teacher who helped her. Both of them thought they were alone in what they needed. Both of them were wrong."
Across the room, Kathryn looks up and catches me watching. Her smile shifts into something softer, more personal. I look away quickly.
"You know," Sophia says casually, "when Jake first met Kathryn, she was just another barista trying to make ends meet. But she got it immediately. She saw how coffee shops could be more than just places to grab a drink. How they could bring people together."
"Hope is risky."
"So is anything worth doing." She gathers her camera. "Though between you and me? I think she's found something worth the risk here. And I'm not talking about the coffee shop."
She moves away before I can respond, rejoining Jake and Kathryn at the wall. I watch them talk, these people who believe in wishes and walls and the power of coffee shop magic.
Kathryn turns again, catching my eye. This time I hold her gaze, just for a moment. Just long enough to see something question in her expression, something that makes my carefully constructed walls feel a little less solid.
"Your coffee's getting cold," Annie says softly.
Right. Coffee. Business. Walls.
"A little higher on the left." Kathryn steps back, studying the Wishing Wall sign I'm hanging. "No, your other left."
"I only have one left." I adjust the corner anyway, fighting a smile at her concentrated frown. She's perched on a chair across the room, head tilted as she considers the angle.
"Perfect." She hops down, nearly colliding with a table. I catch myself starting forward before she rights herself with a laugh. "Though you didn't have to help, you know."
"And miss the chance to be bossed around? Never."
Her eyes spark at the challenge. "I do not boss."
"You literally just made me adjust this sign six times."
"Five, actually." She moves closer, pretending to study the sign but definitely invading my space. "The last one was just to see if you'd do it."
I should step back. Should maintain some professional distance. Instead, I find myself leaning slightly closer. "Enjoying your power trip?"
"Immensely." She smells like coffee and vanilla, and it's doing dangerous things to my concentration.
"If you two are done flirting," Jake calls from across the room, "we've got signage to explain."
Kathryn steps back quickly, cheeks pink. "Right. The explanation cards."
We set up at a nearby table, spreading out the materials. Kathryn's shoulder brushes mine as she leans in to show me the text she's drafted.
"We want to make it clear this isn't just another bulletin board," she explains. "It's about creating connections, helping dreams come true. No matter how small."
"Very poetic."
She bumps my shoulder. "I'm serious. People can sign their wishes or leave them anonymous. Others can help directly or through the baristas. The important thing is making everyone feel safe sharing their hopes."
"And you really think people will?"
"I know they will." Her conviction is almost tangible. "Look at Old Joe. One farmers' market, and he's already asking for knitting lessons."
"Well, well." Cam's voice cuts through the moment. He's standing in his office doorway, eyeing our work with obvious disdain. "How... quaint. Though I suppose every corporate initiative needs its local flavor."
I feel Kathryn tense beside me. "Actually, the Wishing Wall has been incredibly successful in multiple locations."
"Mmm." Cam's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Just keep the riffraff to a minimum, dear. We are still a business."
He disappears back into his office, leaving an unpleasant silence in his wake.
"Charming as ever," I mutter.
"He's..." Kathryn sighs. "He just doesn't get it."
"And you do?"
She turns to face me fully. "You don't think I do?"
I choose my words carefully. "I think you believe in this. But Elk Ridge isn't Wilmington. People here, they've been burned before."
"By Cam?"
"By promises." I start arranging blank wish cards, needing something to do with my hands. "Community connections sound great, but what happens when corporate decides they're not profitable enough?"
"Is that what you're worried about?" She touches my arm, and I still. "That this is just another fleeting idea?"
"Isn't it?"
"No." The firmness in her voice makes me look up. "This isn't about profit margins or corporate initiatives. This is about creating space for hope. For connection. For people to help each other in ways they might never have thought possible."
She's close enough that I can see flecks of gold in her eyes, count the freckles across her nose. Her hand is still on my arm, warm through my sleeve.
"You really believe that."
"I do." She reaches past me for a wish card, her hair brushing my shoulder. "Because I've seen it work. I've seen people find friendship, support, even love through these wishes. And I’ll keep repeating myself until I get it through that thick skull of yours."
We both reach to straighten the stack of cards, our hands colliding. Neither of us pulls back immediately. Her fingers are soft against mine, and for a moment I forget about corporate initiatives and past disappointments.
"Nolan?" Her voice is barely a whisper.
"Hmm?"
"You're holding the cards upside down."
I look down to find she's right. We both laugh, breaking the tension, but something has shifted between us. Something that makes it hard to remember why I was so determined to keep my distance.
"I should go." I step back, immediately missing her warmth. "Lodge stuff to handle."
"Right." Is it my imagination, or does she sound disappointed? "Thanks for your help."
At the door, I turn back. She's already hanging the first wish card, stretching up on her toes to reach the perfect spot. The evening sun catches her hair, turning it to fire.
"Kathryn?"
She looks over her shoulder. "Yes?"
"I hope you're right. About the wall. About..." About everything I can't say out loud.
Her smile is soft. "Want to make a wish and find out?"
I leave before I can do something stupid like tell her I already have.