Chapter 9
“You making an Americano?” Landon leans over my shoulder.
“Yeah,” I say, repeating no whipped cream, no whipped cream. I always forget they don’t get any.
“’Kay, I’ll get the maple latte,” he comes back.
Kaitlynn is busy at the pastry station loading up bags with sweets and baked items for our Sunday afternoon rush, complete with a long line reaching the entrance: tucked-in polos and button-ups, long flowy dresses, and dress boots topped off in thick jackets, all waiting impatiently. The local churches must have let out.
I clamp a lid on the cup and do a half spin to end up next to Dawn at the register. She’s greeting customers with her perpetual smile while I plop the Americano on the counter.
“Daniel,” I yell over the chitchat and scuffling, and wait long enough for a middle-aged man with spectacles to walk over and nod before leaving the cup unattended.
Back at the prep counter, a new order receipt prints out. I tear it off and put it on the line behind four others without glancing at what’s on the paper. I check the next ticket, slap two cups on the line, and twist around to Kaitlynn.
“I need a slice of pumpkin pie with crème, a slice of key lime, and two sugar cookies, for here,” I tell her, but I don’t stop there. “And I need you to save me from this crap show.”
I’m not talking about the chaos in the dining area or the powdered mess Landon and I are making, including a few sticky globs of caramel under the collection of flavored syrups. Landon’s contribution. Kaitlynn understands immediately though.
“It’s your crap show, not mine.” She grins and swings back around.
“Not the point.” I roll my eyes and go back to prepping my cups. I really want to say “shit show,” but Dawn says we have to consider our clientele.
“You could have just…oh, I don’t know—not lied. Ever thought of that?”
“It’s not…” I stop. I want to deny it, but I can’t. So I redirect. “It’s not that simple. How could I have said no?”
“No,” Landon and Kaity say in unison. Smart-asses, both of them. Then Kaitlynn keeps going. “You say, I’m not. Didn’t happen. Just a friend. Sorry. I don’t know. Lots of ways! How many times are you going to ask me that?”
“Until you give me an answer I like.” I huff and drop a shot of espresso into a cup. “Plus, it’s a little late for that. So what do I do now?”
“Tell them.” Dawn throws her voice into the conversation without looking back. She overheard us talking about it earlier and so yeah, she’s now in on my terrible life choices. I blame Kaity’s big mouth for that one.
“That,” Kaitlynn agrees. “Do that.”
“You want me to just walk up and say, ‘Hey Mrs. Marcus, I lied to your face. I’m not your son’s person’?!” I say it with as much sarcasm as I can muster without being too obvious to customers.
“Not li—” Kaitlynn starts, but Dawn interrupts her.
“How about y’all talk about this little drama once this rush stops.” She grins and nods at us expectantly. “Okay?”
I nod and go silent. This is the only thing on my mind right now, so I have nothing else to say. Ten minutes later the crowd has lightened, and I nudge Kaitlynn.
“So…”
“Kenzie,” Kaitlynn sighs. “I’m not some Buddha. I don’t know!”
“Yeah, but—”
“No! No buts.” Kaitlynn shakes her head. “Do what—”
“But they like butts,” Landon says, thinking he has something.
“Uh… Nah. They’re more a—” Kaitlynn begins, but there is no way I’m letting this be said in front of Dawn. No way in hell.
“La la la,” I sing. It’s the best I’ve got, and she stops and stares me down with a crooked grin, so it works. I raise my brow and she gives me a knowing smile back.
“You just have to find a way to tell them.” Dawn leans her back against the baked goods container. “And at the right time. But make it soon. The longer you put it off, the harder it’s going to get, and the worse it’s going to look.”
“I know.” I drop my head in defeat. “I’ll do it.”
“Good.” Kaitlynn sounds satisfied.
“Good? You didn’t contribute anything,” I complain, and turn to grab a new ticket.
Unlike before, it’s the only one on the line. I take it a little slower and try to relax. I concentrate more on the ingredients. Espresso, hazelnut, and chocolate syrup. It’s simple, not enough to keep me from worrying.
“I helped,” Kaity whines.
“Sure.” I shake my head and wrap my fingers around my necklace. I say my usual prayer for when I’m anxious. The words flow noiselessly in my head.
Dear Freyja, Queen of the Valkyries, I know I have no reason to worry. Your shield-maidens watch over me. But please give me the peace of home within my head.
I breathe in, then out, and pop a lid on top of the iced latte in front of me. I grab the cold plastic cup and call out the name written on it, “Billie!”
When I turn to put the cup on the counter, I freeze.
“Oh no,” I mumble.
“Huh?” Kaitlynn asks, looking down my line of sight at the mom, dad, and daughter that just walked in. Mary-Anne, Randall, and Holly Marcus.
“That’s his family,” I whisper.
“His?”
“Hayden’s. It’s Hayden’s family.” I whisper it like it’s the biggest secret of the twenty-first century.
“Oh.” Her lip skews to the right and she grunts evilly, “Have fun.”
“Lots of help, thanks,” I throw my voice after her as she walks into the back, probably to eavesdrop, and Mrs. Marcus walks up.
“Kenzie!” she squeals.
I fake excitement, baring all of my teeth and hoping the horror isn’t showing in my face.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” She doesn’t stop. “We wanted to come by the shop. See where Hayden met you.”
“Ah, yeah, that.” I nod nervously, glancing back at Kaitlynn. Hoping she’ll get that I need saving. She doesn’t—or well, she does but does nothing about it. “It’s just where I work.”
Obvi. They know I work here, and if they hadn’t already, me standing behind the counter should be a good giveaway.
“It’s a nice place. I don’t think we’ve ever come in before.” Mr. Marcus looks around the space. “Sort of odd, actually. I’ve lived here all my life, and I’ve never been here.”
“I have.” Holly speaks up, eyes barely breaching the countertop.
“Really?” Mr. Marcus asks.
“Uh-huh. With Hayden,” she answers.
It must have been a time I wasn’t here, because the first time I saw Holly was at the hospital, and I can’t remember a time when Hayden came to the shop with anyone but some guy friend or his devastatingly handsome brother. Oh! Shit. I didn’t mean it like that. What is going on with me?
“You weren’t here though.” Holly looks at me.
“Makes sense.” I nod and decide to switch to customer service mode. Maybe that’ll expedite this. “Can I get y’all anything? We make a great peanut butter frappe. It’s my favorite.”
“Please, Mom.” Holly’s eyes light up like Christmas.
“Is that what you want, then? You sure?” Mary-Anne asks.
Holly nods, and Mary-Anne looks back at me. Before she can say anything I ring it up.
“And two macchiatos,” she adds.
“Okay.” I put in the other drinks and place the order under Marcus. She pays and I instinctively give her the standard thanks. “Thank you so much. Your items will be ready in a few minutes.”
I try to escape to the bar to make their drinks, but Mary-Anne raises her hand above the counter.
“Kenzie,” she says.
“Yes, ma’am.” I swing around. It’s an impulse at this point. Too many times a customer has done the same to add something to their order or tell us how to make a drink we already know how to make.
“We were wondering if you might come by the house this afternoon. When do you get off?” she asks.
“Two,” I tell her, my voice shadowed in a little more caution than I intended. What is up now?
Did they figure it out?
“That’s perfect.” Mary-Anne grins. Randall’s standing in silence. He’s still the hardest to read. “Hayden and Zachary usually play basketball after church. I thought maybe you’d like to come. It’s just Zachary, and I think he’s a little more down about his brother than he admits.”
Okay, first, why is she telling me all of this about Zachary? Isn’t that a little oversharing? Maybe Zachary doesn’t want people to know that.
“Oh, I’m—” I start to come up with an excuse. It was going to be something about how badly my mother needed me home to take care of the cat we don’t have. But Holly interrupts.
“Please!” Holly smiles big.
“I…uh,” I stumble. Why am I like this? “Sure. Yeah. I can do that.”