3. Sarah
CHAPTER THREE
sarah
Working at the cafe after an hour-long breakdown at therapy always left me especially drained. Today was no different.
By the time the dinner rush rolled around, every muscle in my body ached. My feet hurt. I needed new shoes, but the boys did too and they came first.
I carried a tray of empty plates to the back of the cafe, noting that Alice had been through here. Clean dishes were stacked and ready, and linen napkins folded. The walls had a fresh coat of robin’s egg blue paint, lightening the atmosphere.
Alice was one of the few people I liked here. Thankfully, she was the manager, and had bent over backwards for me multiple times over the last six months.
Like my sister, she was determined to succeed. The cafe had thrived since she took over from her dad earlier last year. For years, we’d been known for having the best cherry pie in the county, but now we had other things that were also worthy of the title. It all ran on a tighter ship, but I liked that. It meant I could come in, do my job, and go home .
“Hey Sarah,” Alice called. “Have you had a break?”
I put the plates in the sink and moved out of the way before I bothered Trey. The kitchen was his domain, and I certainly didn’t want to overstep.
Alice waited for me to come back out of the kitchen before stepping in front of me, blocking my path before I could head toward the party of four that had entered the front door.
“Welcome in, pick a seat and we’ll get you taken care of,” I said, my voice carrying. One of the men nodded, and they chose a booth.
She pushed her silky black curls over her shoulder and looked me up and down. “Have you had a break?” she asked again.
“Let me help them first,” I said.
“So I take that as a no.” Alice arched her brow, pressing her lips together. Gold highlighter dusted her dark brown cheeks, catching a bit of light as she frowned at me. She always had the ability to cut straight through my bullshit, sometimes even better than Haley or Emma.
“I don’t need one. We’re in a dinner rush,” I said. “I can keep working.”
“I’ll take over for you,” she said. “You need to eat something. You’ve been working all day. I thought we talked about doubles and how you’d have an hour break between them? What happened to our agreement?”
“Today was busy,” I protested.
Plus, I hadn’t packed lunch. As if she read my mind, she held up a Ziplock bag with a cold cut sandwich and some chips.
“Go,” she hissed. “I turned that extra room in the back into a break space for a reason.”
“Did you really make me lunch?” I couldn’t keep the waver from my voice.
She pressed her red lips together. “Sarah, go sit and eat. I can’t be the only one taking care of you. Besides, you keep this cafe going. It’s the least I can do.”
She shoved the sandwich into my hands and darted around me for the table. I glanced up as more people came through the front door, but she was already grabbing menus to hand them. Between Alice and Debbie—a veteran server like myself—working the floor, we’d be okay for a few minutes.
Why do you feel guilty about people helping you?
Why do you feel unworthy of their care?
The questions at today’s session were a knife to the heart. I bit my lower lip and stepped outside for my break. I exited through the back door and sighed, leaning against the blue brick wall as I opened the bag.
Citrus Cove Cafe sat on Main Street across from the Old Spur Museum and some other small businesses. It was painted bright blue and stood out amongst the dimming sky.
I devoured the sandwich and immediately felt better.
I checked my phone for messages and smiled. Emma had sent me a picture of the boys and Donnie on the couch watching a show. Haley was there too, her blond curls pulled back in a bun and eyes bright with happiness.
I’d forgotten it was their hang out night. Usually, the two of them watched a movie once a week, and often ended up with the boys. Legally Blonde had become Jake’s favorite movie after Emma insisted it was fundamental for every kid to see.
I hearted the picture, and drew in a deep breath as the pressure on my chest eased. They looked happy, and I was hopeful that we were nearing the end of this storm.
The summer break had been long enough to let the Citrus Cove rumors die down, although they still lingered. Everyone knew what had happened, and the news had taken our little town over. David Connor, local man, twin of the serial killer Thomas Conor.
Had they met him before? Had they been in the same room with him? Everyone and their mother certainly believed so, and they loved to gossip about it. If one thing could bring a small town together, it was the horror of finding out their neighbor was a psychotic murderer.
The kids at school had treated Jake and Davy differently since then. Jake, in particular, had dealt with a lot of bullying. Davy stuck up for him, which led to fights, which led to kids calling him ‘David’ instead of Davy. It was so simple, but it always managed to hurt him. He was determined to be nothing like his father, and no matter how many times I told him he wasn’t, it was hard to make him believe me.
All of that had brought me to parent-teacher meetings and countless arguments with the principal. There was also the cranky old hag, Agatha, who ran the front desk and was a constant source of headaches. She always gave me a hard time about getting the boys to school on time or wanted to yap about the woes of how being a single mother might impact them. I couldn’t say she’d changed a bit in the decades she’d worked at this school.
Jake and Davy were in therapy too, which helped, but it wasn’t a quick fix. Things couldn’t simply stop.
So far, this school year had been a nightmare. The holidays had provided us with a reprieve of sorts and it had been a little easier.
I just wanted my boys to be happy.
Headlights flashed as a truck pulled into the parking lot. I stood up straight, my heart skipping a beat. All of my nerves lit up like fireworks, throat constricting.
That’s his truck.
David wasn’t supposed to be in Citrus Cove.
He wasn’t supposed to be here.
But that looked like his truck.
I felt weak again. I felt broken again . I felt …
The door opened and a man stepped out, but he wasn’t David.
The amount of relief turned my knees to jelly. I collapsed against the wall, panting hard. My head spun as I counted to ten, reminding myself that David wasn’t here. I was safe.
More headlights flashed, and another familiar truck pulled in and parked right next to the one that looked like David’s. My heart fluttered, but not with dread.
Colton Hayes hopped out and immediately went to the other truck, hands on his hips as he checked the license plate. His gaze flickered over as he spotted me.
Dammit. I didn’t want him to see me like this.
Cold panic laced with longing froze me in place.
The parking lot lighting didn’t do him justice, but that didn’t matter. Colt could be under grocery store fluorescents and still look like a rugged model. He’d cut his hair over the summer, taking it from almost to his shoulders back to curling at the top of his neck. He wore a steel gray shirt with a brown jacket and dark wash jeans, his belt buckle gleaming.
“I thought that was his truck,” he said as he approached me, scowling.
“Me too.” Breathe. It’s just Colt.
His expression melted from anger to worry. It wasn’t fair how good looking he was when he pinched his brows together and rubbed the back of his neck. “Are you okay, Sarah?”
Nope. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”
“I still have three hours left on my shift. Thanks, though. I need to get back inside.” If I didn’t keep working, I’d break down, and I couldn’t handle that again today.
His eyes swept over me. Every time he looked at me like that, I was torn between wanting to melt against him or run away.
There was too much regret. Too many what ifs between us.
I didn’t like to entertain those thoughts. They led me down a path of wondering how different my life might have been if I’d listened to Colt on my wedding day.
What if I’d run away with him?
“Have you heard from him at all?” Colt asked softly.
He meant David. I shook my head. “No,” I said. I swallowed hard, my heart finally settling in my chest. I couldn’t help but glance at the truck again.
The idea of David coming back to Citrus Cove terrified me.
One of the first things I did after it all fell apart was file for divorce and take out a restraining order. I felt better knowing it had been granted and, in theory, I should never see him again. But, I also knew how he was. If he didn’t end up in jail, a piece of paper wouldn’t stop him from seeing me again if he wanted to.
“Last I heard, he was still dealing with the court and trial. I hope he goes to jail,” I said.
“Me too. If you need anything, I’m always a call away,” he said. “Always.”
Always. His voice was soft and sweet. The man had slept on my couch for the first couple weeks after I left David. He’d been ready to do whatever it took to keep me and the boys safe. Then all hell had truly broken loose, and once the situation settled, Emma moved in.
Colt studied me a moment longer before clearing his throat. “Do you want me to see who owns the truck?”
“No,” I said. “No, it’s okay. I saw the man and it wasn’t David. That’s all that matters.”
“The license plate is different too.”
“Good. Thank you,” I said, keeping my tone polite.
My heart thundered as I reached for the door.
“Have a good night, Sarah,” he said.
“Goodnight, Colt.”
I left him standing there with those sad eyes and an even sadder smile.