Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
The week crept by. Every morning, Lila told herself not to look at the door. TJ wasn’t coming in. Maybe not ever.
She hadn’t heard a word from him since the day of the infamous pie contest. One minute he’d been standing in Pleasant Beans, grinning that lopsided grin of his and teasing her about health codes… and the next? Nothing. Silence.
No call. No text. Not even a word passed through Grandma and the others.
She’d even tried calling the Jones Ranch late one evening while the shop was quiet. She hung up before anyone could answer. What would she say? Hi! It’s Lila! Just wondering if the man I’m falling hard for vanished off the face of the earth?
Instead, she stayed busy.
Lila wiped the counters twice as often as needed.
She arranged the mugs by color, re-alphabetized the tea cannisters, and deep-cleaned the pastry case until it gleamed like new.
The others noticed, of course. Especially when she started wiping down the cannisters.
She’d ordered them when she found out how much TJ adored tea.
“Lands sakes!” Grandma muttered one morning as Lila polished the same tin for the third time. “You’re going to scrub a hole clean through that cannister if you keep that up!”
“I’m fine,” Lila lied quickly.
“Uh-huh.” Grandma’s stern look said she wasn’t convinced.
Across the room, Irene and Polly exchanged a glance over their knitting. They sat with a small group of women at a table, each with a coffee, happily clicking their needles. Paddy joined them. He shook his head and leaned toward Polly.
“Poor lass,” he said softly. “She’s got the look.”
“What look?” Polly asked.
“The look of a woman waiting on a man to do something foolish.”
Irene snorted. “That wouldn’t take long.”
Lila pretended not to hear them. She stared out the front windows.
The last of the autumn leaves skittered along Main Street, collecting in corners and gutters. The Harvest Festival banners were gone now, replaced by turkeys and other Thanksgiving decorations. Soon enough, the town would hang Christmas garlands, and the turkeys would disappear too.
The season was shifting, and with every passing day, the silence stretched further.
The only sound she noticed anymore was the bell over the door. Each time it jingled, her heart jumped, and every time, it wasn’t him.
Come Friday morning, Lila brewed the first pot of the day, opened the shop, and told herself it was time to stop hoping.
The bell jingled, and she turned with a practiced smile. “Morning, folks! Welcome to…” Her words caught.
Standing just inside the door were Caleb, Luke, and Ethan Jones. All three smiled politely, brushing the light snow off their jackets. The first of the year.
“Good morning, Miss Comfort,” Caleb said. “Coffee smells good as ever. Are Tilly and Jack going to be home soon?”
“Hey there,” Ethan added with an easy grin.
Lila didn’t have time to open her mouth before Luke chimed in. “We were in town picking up feed. Thought we’d stop in before heading back.”
“Oh, I… I see…” Good grief, could she sound any more pathetic?
Grandma glanced up from her crossword but didn’t say a word. Irene stopped mid-stitch. Polly’s knitting needles slowed to a halt, as did everyone else’s. Paddy left the table and moved behind the counter, pretending to tidy the pastry case.
Every soul in Pleasant Beans was suddenly very, very attentive.
Lila poured their coffees, her hands trembling just enough that she had to steady the mugs with her other hand. “So,” she began lightly, her voice cracking. “How’s your mom doing?”
“Oh, you know Mom,” Ethan said, resting an elbow on the counter. “She’s planning to make enough food to feed the whole county for Thanksgiving.”
“She’s doing fine,” Caleb added. “Keeps us all in line.”
Lila forced a smile. “That sounds about right.” None of them mentioned TJ.
It was Irene, of course, who couldn’t stand the suspense. “So, boys,” she called from the table. “How’s that handsome brother of yours? Haven’t seen him around lately.”
The three exchanged a glance. Silent but meaningful. They knew exactly where he was. Lila could tell.
She braced herself as Caleb set his mug down gently. “He’s back in Cornwall.”
Even though she knew it was coming, the words hit like a brick across Lila’s ribs. “Cornwall,” she repeated softly.
“Yeah,” Luke said, rubbing the back of his neck. “He had to take care of a few things, so he left early. Work, mostly.” He cleared his throat and looked guilty.
Ethan, on the other hand, just looked plain uncomfortable. “He said to tell everyone it was good being home for a while.”
Lila slowly nodded. “Oh. Yeah. I bet.”
The shop went utterly still. Even the espresso machine seemed to hush.
Grandma’s face softened, the lines deepening with sympathy as she looked at Lila. Polly reached across the table and gave Grandma’s hand a gentle squeeze.
Lila focused on the brothers again, trying to keep her expression neutral. “Well, that’s nice,” she said. “I’m glad he got to visit.”
Caleb met her eyes. There was kindness there. “He’ll write when he’s ready,” he said gently.
Her chest tightened as she nodded and managed a half smile. “Of course. I’m sure he writes you all the time.”
The three didn’t say anything. Instead, they gave her a polite nod, went to a table, and spoke in low tones as they finished their coffee.
When they finally paid their bill and thanked her, it was obvious they were doing their best not to say anything more about their brother.
As soon as they were gone, she turned toward the hall and quickly wiped her eyes. She had to get a grip and pull herself together. Fast.
Paddy was the first to speak. “Well, now, that’s that, then.”
“Paddy,” Grandma warned softly.
Lila turned around in time to see him lift his hands. “I only meant…”
“I know what you meant, Paddy,” Grandma said firmly. She turned to Lila, her voice gentle. “You all right, child?”
Lila blinked and set the dish towel she’d been twisting down. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
None of them answered.
Finally, Irene huffed. “He’s a fool, that’s what he is! You don’t leave a girl like you behind unless your head’s full of sawdust!”
“Irene,” Grandma scolded.
“Well, it’s true,” Irene said stubbornly. “If he were my grandson, I’d march over there myself and give him what for.”
That earned a chuckle from Paddy. “Aye, but then we’d be short a good coffee boy, and that’d be a shame. Besides, you can’t just march across the ocean. He’s in England, Irene!”
“Paddy!” Polly hissed.
Grandma rose, came around the table to the counter, and rested a hand on Lila’s arm. “Sometimes, child, love needs a long road to find its way home. Doesn’t make the waiting any easier, but it does make the finding sweeter.”
Lila swallowed hard. “Maybe he’ll write or send an email. Or maybe he won’t. Either way, I guess I’ll have my answer. Leaving without saying goodbye though, is answer enough, isn’t it?”
Grandma squeezed her arm gently. “Time will tell.”
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Customers came and went. Lila smiled, poured coffee, took payments, and barely remembered any of it. By closing time, her heart still ached. Grandma walked out with Irene, Paddy locked up the back door, and Polly hummed softly as she gathered her things.
Lila lingered a little longer. She wiped down the counter one last time, straightened the napkin holder, and stared at the empty space near the door where TJ had once stood laughing about something Muffin and Espresso had done. Tilly’s aunt was the cat wrangler now.
When she finally left and opened the door, the bell above swayed gently in the draft, jingling once, then falling silent. Lila stepped back in to flip the sign to Closed, and whispered, “Goodbye, TJ Jones.”
Lila sat curled on the couch, a half-empty mug of cocoa growing cold on the coffee table in front of her. Outside, twilight settled over Clear Creek. Soon the town’s evening lights would blink on. And as much as she enjoyed this time of day, tonight, it only made the ache worse.
She’d done what she always did when life refused to make sense: cleaned. The place was spotless. Her laundry was folded, the floors gleamed, and there wasn’t a dirty dish in sight. But still, the silence pressed in.
Her phone sat on the table beside her. She’d stopped checking it after the fourth day of nothing. He wasn’t going to call. Why would he?
When a knock came at the door, Lila nearly ignored it. But a second, sharper knock followed. She sighed, setting her mug aside. Lila knew that knock.
“Come in,” she called.
The door opened, and her mother stepped inside, bundled in a knit scarf and carrying a pie tin.
“Hi, honey,” Margaret Comfort said gently. “Thought you could use a little company.”
Lila blinked back fresh tears. “Mom, I’m fine.”
Her mother’s expression said she didn’t believe that for a second. She set the pie on the coffee table, pulled off her gloves, and walked over to sit beside her.
“You’ve been moping for a week,” Margaret said softly. “You want to tell me what happened?”
Lila sighed and leaned back against the couch cushions. “There’s nothing to tell. He left.”
“Without saying goodbye?”
“Without saying anything,” Lila whispered.
Margaret frowned. “Well, that’s not very gentlemanly.”
“No,” Lila said, her voice cracking. “It’s not.”
Her mother reached over and brushed a stray curl from Lila’s face. “Sweetheart, maybe there’s more to it. Maybe he had to leave suddenly.”
“Please, Mom.” Lila shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. “Don’t try to make excuses for him. I should’ve known better. I barely knew the man. A few weeks of pie and coffee-shop banter and suddenly I thought…” She broke off, pressing a hand to her eyes. “I thought there was something real.”
Margaret hesitated, then spoke gently. “Sometimes the heart gets ahead of the head. That doesn’t make you stupid, just human.”
“Well, I feel stupid,” Lila said flatly. “And I’m not going to do it again.”
“Do what?”
“Fall for someone who never planned on staying.”
Her mother’s sigh was quiet and sad. “Oh, honey. You can guard your heart all you want, but love has a way of sneaking through the cracks.”
Lila gave a humorless laugh. “Then I need better caulking.”
That earned a chuckle, but it faded quickly. Margaret stood and smoothed her coat. “I brought your favorite, apple crumble. You don’t have to eat it now.”
Lila nodded, her voice small. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Anytime.” Her mother stopped at the door. “Don’t shut everyone out, okay? People care about you.”
When the door closed behind her, the silence returned, only now, it felt heavier.
The next afternoon, Lila braved a trip to the grocery store.
The town was buzzing with pre-Thanksgiving chatter. Neighbors comparing recipes, kids tugging at carts, the scent of cinnamon pinecones wafting from an end-cap display.
She was halfway down the baking aisle when she heard a familiar voice.
“Oh, Lila!”
Lila turned to see Mrs. Jones approaching, a basket on one arm, with a face full of concern.
“Hi, Mrs. Jones,” Lila managed, forcing a smile.
“Have you heard from TJ?” Mrs. Jones asked.
Lila’s face fell.
“Oh, listen to me. Of course you haven’t. He up and flew out of here without so much as a proper goodbye. I could wring his neck for that.”
Lila blinked, caught off guard. “He didn’t tell you, either?”
“Barely a day’s notice,” Mrs. Jones said with a huff.
“Something about loose ends in Cornwall and being gone a few weeks. To New Zealand, I suspect. I was hoping he’d at least stay through Thanksgiving.
The boys were too.” She sighed and patted Lila’s arm.
“He’s a good man, just… restless. Always has been.
But that doesn’t make it easier, does it? ”
Lila shook her head, her throat too tight to answer. There was no use denying she had a thing for TJ. Half the town probably knew.
“Well,” Mrs. Jones said gently. “If he calls, tell him his mother’s fit to be tied. And if he doesn’t, we’ll just send him a box of cold stuffing and see how he likes that.”
That almost made Lila smile. Almost.
When Mrs. Jones moved on, chatting with another shopper, Lila stood there a moment, staring at the shelves of pie filling and flour. It felt like the final nail. Even his mother hadn’t been expecting him to leave.
By the time she reached the checkout, her eyes burned.
“Lila!”
She looked up to see Grandma and Doc coming down the aisle, pushing a cart overflowing with cleaning supplies.
“Grandma? Doc? What on earth is all that for?”
“Surprise!” Grandma beamed. “We did it! We bought the big pink Victorian on West C Street! The one with the porch swing and the tower. It’s ours!”
“You did?” Lila blinked, trying to shift gears. “That’s wonderful.”
Doc puffed out his chest. “Closed on it yesterday. Took a bit of wrangling, but we managed.”
“And,” Grandma added. “We’ve recruited the Jones boys to help us move in. Strong backs, all three. They’ll earn their pie.”
Lila’s smile faltered for half a second, but she caught it. “That’s… that’s great, Grandma.”
Doc nodded enthusiastically. “We’re having a little housewarming once we get settled. Just something small. You know, music, cider, friends.”
“Yes, child,” Grandma said warmly. “You must come. Thursday evening. You don’t have to bring a thing.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Lila said.
Grandma’s sharp eyes softened. “Good girl.”
The couple moved down another aisle, chattering about curtains and wallpaper patterns, leaving Lila standing beside her cart.
She looked down at the items she’d picked up. Coffee filters, sugar, a half-price bag of cinnamon sticks, and felt the weight of it all pressing down again.
Everyone else seemed to be moving forward. Making plans, building new beginnings. And here she was, still standing still. Would she ever be able to move forward?
How long did it take to get over a broken heart?