Chapter 30
I jerk to life as something blares in my ear. What the… Oh. It’s my alarm, TXT’s “Frost.” I slap at my phone once I find it strewn on the bed, finally prying my eyelids open. I don’t remember falling asleep. My last memory is sitting in bed, crying, and the smell of incense wafting about my room.
I sit up and check my phone. Eleven o’clock on the dot and…I have two texts from Zachary. Please stop.
ZACHARY: Hey
ZACHARY: Can we talk?
“Nope,” I say directly at the phone. I’m not sitting here and texting back and forth about how much I screwed up and ruined everything. And even if it’s not that, I can’t deal with anything else right now.
I drop my phone back onto the ruffled comforter and lie back down.
I don’t want to go to work today. My eyes are too heavy, complete with dark bags.
If I had enough motivation, I could probably use a little makeup and make them not so noticeable, but not today.
Can’t I just stay here and be sad alone, at home, and in bed? What better place?
I let my eyes close, but the dark is replaced by him. Those intense yet kind steel eyes, looking at me. It sends a twinge of pain straight through my heart knowing I’ll never see those again. Not in the same way, at least.
I shake back to life, trying to lose him from my head, and suddenly my watch reads 11:20 a.m. Shit.
I pounce—well, more like slouch—out of bed and take a much-needed shower before putting on a thick black shirt and brown skirt, then layering my thickest jacket over it all.
I don’t want to face people today. I need everyone to be nice and not complain—the impossible I know, but please! I can’t deal with the junk.
At least Kaitlynn is going to be there, and I think Dawn. I need them to distract me, to get me out of my head. Maybe it’s better to be at work than here at home, staring at a wall. I still don’t want to leave though.
I scoop my keys from the little table next to my bed and drag my feet into the hallway. Mom’s waiting at the other end, arms crossed in a tan blazer. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was heading out for church.
“Morning,” she says. “I made you some of those orange cinnamon rolls you like.”
To my surprise, my mood lifts the tiniest bit and I manage a gentle smile.
“Sweet,” I say, trying for her to be a little more myself, and move faster down the hall. “A reason to live.”
“How’d you sleep?” Mom asks, shaking her head at my response.
“Fine, I guess,” I say, and follow her into the kitchen.
Four rolls sit on a plate, slathered in a fresh warm orange glaze. I breathe in their citrusy aroma and pick one up.
“Is it all right if I take this on the road?” I ask. “I’m running behind.”
“Sure,” she says, and gets a little plastic container from the cabinet. While she packages the other three, I say a quick thanks to Freyja for my mom. “Now be sure to give at least one of these to Kaitlynn, okay?”
“I’ll give her half of one,” I joke.
Mom grins and shoos me toward the door. “You better be joking. Now go on, don’t be late. I love you, mein Schatz.”
I grin and give her a kiss on the cheek before heading out the door with a “love you, Mom” thrown back toward the kitchen as I walk outside with a bit more jazz in my step. Still though, today is going to suck.
* * *
“Remember to clean behind the mixer and fridge before you leave tonight,” Dawn says, looking over her checklist.
We’re closed tomorrow for Christmas Eve and the next day for Christmas, which means today is deep cleaning time.
When I got here, it was the prep table in back, underneath it, behind it, above it—everywhere.
Oh, and the drink cabinet. Dawn and Kaitlynn are about to leave, so I’m getting the closing tasks for the day. Yay me. All by myself.
“Got it.” I nod, trying to put on a smile, but I think it comes off more as a straight line. “Can I do some of that before close?”
“As long as you keep an eye out here,” Dawn says, and walks into the back, leaving me with Kaitlynn.
“Sucks to be you.” Kaitlynn grins.
“If you only knew,” I come back.
“Cheer up, bitch.” She winks. Had it been anyone else, I might have crawled across the counter.
It’s slow right now, but we’re expecting a little rush right before we close. That’s how it usually happens on Sundays. Church people coming to get their pre-night service coffee and not tipping so they can tithe.
“You could smile a little, you know.” Kaitlynn shrugs and squints at me. “You look like you hate life.”
“Maybe I do,” I suggest.
“Valid,” she says.
I try anyway. It’s part of the job. Don’t put my feelings on the customer, so I will my cheeks to rise for Kaitlynn. “Better?”
“We’re…getting there,” she laughs.
“I’m going to start cleaning,” I tell her.
It’s more to distract myself than anything.
I pick up a washcloth and start patting down the display case.
There are no customers left in the building, so I move from there to the little bookshelf with its collection of Woodsy Café & Cakes shirts and hoodies, tumblers, and even a few popular fiction titles up top.
Everything is fine, I tell myself. Just think about cleaning.
Freyja, please help me keep my mind off him. I don’t even want to think his name. It means too much.
The door chime rings, and Kaitlynn announces, “Mr. Franz.”
“Hello there, Miss Kaitlynn,” Mr. Franz says.
I stop and turn around. I have to say hey, he is my favorite customer. I’m surprised when there’s a woman about my mom’s age and another, who I think is probably a little younger than me, with him. Her hair is gorgeous, blonde and silky, and hangs over her shoulders.
“Hey, Mr. Franz!” I say, moving toward the counter.
“Mackenzie,” he says with his usual broad smile lifting his wrinkled cheeks. “Meet my daughter, Anna, and granddaughter, Isla.”
His family! I’ve always wondered if he had family around. I sort of felt bad for him on days like this and Thanksgiving that most people spend with family. Guess I don’t need to.
“Good to meet you both.” I nod at them. They’re pretty, and I think I can see some of Mr. Franz in Isla. It’s the nose, I think. It has the same raised bridge.
“They’re here for Christmas,” he says. “All the way from back home in Poland. It’s been almost a year.”
“Aw!” Kaitlynn sighs.
“I’m so glad y’all could come. Your dad and grandad is my favorite customer,” I tell them. “Don’t tell anyone else.”
Just his presence lifts my mood. I’ve never seen the man look anything but grateful and peaceful, and something about him feels like he was sent from the gods themselves to calm me.
“Can we get you all something?” I turn to his family.
Mr. Franz nods and moves to the counter. I look for a second more, watching the way he cups his hand on his daughter’s back at the register. It melts me, and for a moment, Christmas sort of feels like Christmas.
Ding, ding.
I rush behind the counter so Kaitlynn can finish helping Mr. Franz and I can go ahead and help whoever just walked in. I wipe my hands on my apron and look up. Immediately I freeze.
“Zach?” I say before thinking.
“Hey.” He grins, but he looks nervous with his hands balled up together.
“W-what are you…uh… doing here?” I finally get the words out, and I’m already wincing. That probably sounded so rude to Mr. Franz and his family.
“I, uh…I wanted to see you.” He steps closer and finally stops at the counter and puts his hand on the wooden top.
“Oh,” I say, unable to stop my lips from skewing off to the side and showing my anxiety at his mere presence.
What is happening? Why does he want to see me?
“Maybe this isn—” I start, but Zachary literally puts his hand over mine and stops me. That familiar warmth shoots up my wrist and pulses to my brain, and I’m met with both a calm and fear I don’t know how to pull apart.
“Stop, Mackenzie,” he demands in the kindest tone, and I can’t help but listen. He gives me a crooked grin and starts up again. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea, but this is my choice.”
I’m unable and unwilling to argue, stuck in his gaze again. He pauses and looks into my soul for an eternity, or maybe it was a few seconds, I don’t know. I lose track of everything around me. It’s like the room melted away until he brings me back to reality.
“I’m sorry.”
“Excuse me? Wh—” I blurt, but he frowns at me and squeezes my hand, which manages to shut me up.
“Hold on. Give me a second,” Zach laughs. I shrink a little. My bad. He says it again and pauses before explaining. “I’m sorry. For the other night. I should have run after you. I shouldn’t have let you go without saying something.”
“Oh,” I say. I don’t know why I say it. I don’t even understand why he’s apologizing. Why would he have run after me? What I did was horrible. “Zach, no—”
His eyes pierce me, and I go silent. He drops his head and lets it bob a few times like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next.
When he looks back up, he locks his gray eyes on me, but they’re not what I expect.
It’s not anger that occupies that steel gaze.
There’s not a bit of malice in them, none.
No. It’s kindness. Compassion. Warmth. That’s what I find instead, and somehow it seeps into my body and lights a little part of my heart all over again.
I try to stop it, but it’s already there.
He grunts and inhales a massive breath like he’s about to blow into a trombone. I brace. Stay calm, Kenzie. Just listen and it’ll all be over soon.
“I love you, Mackenzie,” he says.
My chest falls, shoving all the air from my lungs, and my mouth gapes open. What did he just say? There’s no way. Absolutely no way that can be true. Eyes wide, I brace my gaze onto his beautiful eyes. You love me? How?
“I was sort of hoping you’d say something after that.” His voice shakes, and he laughs to cover some of the anxiety.
“I-I, uh…” I want to say it back, but this feels like a fantasy. I must have heard what I wanted to instead of what he really said. That’s it.