2. Felix
TWO
FELIX
The aroma of coffee and pure, unfiltered happiness hits my nostrils like a tsunami and cleanses me down to my core.
“Ah, that feels good,” I tell Caspian as soon as I close the door of Special Blend and take my usual seat opposite the register.
Caspian raises his eyebrow, smirking.
“What does?”
“This. All of this!” I wave my hands around the café and take another deep breath. “Serenity, peace, caffeine.”
“But you haven’t had any caffeine yet,” he points out.
“And that’s a crime against humanity. No. Not humanity. Me.”
“Well, in that case, let me rectify that for you.” Caspian does a little curtsy and starts preparing one of his delicious coffees.
Caspian has been a lifesaver in the past couple of weeks since he opened, or shall I say reopened Special Blend. Not only does he make decent and delicious coffee, he’s also become a friend and confidante. It’s probably because we’re both newbies in Maplewood, me only having a couple of months under my belt and he a whopping couple of weeks. And in a town where everyone knows everyone it’s nice to have a friend who’s going through the same thing and trying to adjust to life in a small town.
Not that Maplewood needs adjusting. It’s been a wonderful experience being here so far and everyone is so friendly and accepting, which was what we were missing from our lives before. And the girls love it so much already. It’s as if they’ve been here their whole lives. They’re happy, and carefree and most importantly peaceful. Elsa hasn’t had a nightmare since we moved in and Arya hasn’t mentioned her dad for just as long.
Motherfucker did a number on them. On all of us, really. But Maplewood has been the fresh start we needed.
Caspian approaches the table with a tray. Along with the coffee there’s a chocolate and mango marble cake with a maple drizzle, and before he even sits across from me I’m trying to figure out what excuse to give him for not eating it.
I love Caspian and he makes kickass coffee but his baking skills are interesting to say the least. And sometimes I just want a cake, not an interesting cake.
I pull the coffee toward me straight away and take a good gulp before I let go.
“Tough morning?”
I sigh. “You can say that again. It was all going so well. We were on time and everything, and then of course it all went to shit. Arya lost her favorite scrunchie?—”
“Scrunchie?” Caspian frowns.
“Yes. Scrunchie. And what on earth is she going to do without her lucky scrunchie? How is she going to survive without it?”
“Of course. If I ever got stranded on a deserted island I’d die without my lucky scrunchie.”
“Exactly. So of course I had to turn the house upside down in order to find it. We didn’t. So then I had to turn to negotiations.”
“As one does.” Caspian chuckles.
“I bribed her with chocolate. Nothing. I bribed her with ice cream. Nothing. I bribed her with a late bedtime. Nothing.”
“You’re fighting a losing battle my friend.”
“And don’t I know it. I finally got Elsa to convince Arya to a favor in exchange for her cooperation.”
“A favor?” Caspian narrows his eyes.
“Yeah. She can turn around anytime, completely out of the blue, and ask me for a favor. So you know she’s going to hold on to that for a long time until I forget all about it and then BANG! She turns fifteen and asks me for a tattoo. And of course I’ll have to agree because I made a promise.”
Caspian nods. “Make sure she gets something cute. And definitely not a tramp stamp. Those can haunt you for a lifetime.”
“Yeah, I might as well stop by a tattoo parlor in Burlington and seal the deal with a deposit while I’m ahead.”
“I would. Those childhood promises-turned-teenage-nightmare slots book out fast.” Caspian purses his lips and points.
“Don’t I know it!”
“So is it going to be a calm, peaceful day from here on out?” Caspian asks.
I put my cup down and sigh.
“I wish. On my way to school I got a message from a very panicked author because their retailer was asking for proof they have the rights to the images used on their cover, and it’s release day so I had to talk them off the ledge while parked in front of the school, so of course the traffic monitor gave me a talking-to! And you know I’m already at the end of the rope with her.”
“Oh God. No!”
“Yeah. I tried to apologize and explain it was a work emergency but she didn’t care.”
“They rarely ever do. Pfft. Monitors are drunk on power I tell you.”
I chuckle. “I mean, she was just doing her job, but I think I can kiss any line-cutting privileges goodbye. Oh I forgot. She also made a strong suggestion I donate to the school’s arts department. As if I’m Steve Jobs or something. Like, who does she think she is? Christmas presents are still kicking my ass.”
“But you couldn’t skimp on Christmas presents after everything you’d been through. January is hard on everybody.”
I nod and take my laptop out so I can send my panicked author the proof they need and get on with the rest of my work.
“Are you going to work on that romance book at long last?” Caspian gets up and eyes me with a cheeky expression.
“Seriously? Did you not hear the morning I’ve just had? Poppy’s got work to do.”
“You’ll never have time if you don’t make time.”
I put my hand up and roll my eyes. “Save it, Caspian. You’re starting to sound like the girls now.”
“Are they also trying to get you to write your romance?”
“Nope. They’re trying to make a real-life romance happen for me.”
Caspian chuckles. “Oh come on. That’s cute. And it keeps them entertained.”
I glare at my friend. “They tried to get me a date with their gym teacher, Caspian! Their gym teacher!”
“And? What’s the problem? Is he hot?”
“It doesn’t matter if he’s hot. He’s their teacher. I’ll have to see him at every PTA meeting for the next God knows how many years. It’s embarrassing.”
Caspian shrugs. “It’s only embarrassing if he’s not sexy.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Don’t beg to differ. Go beg the teacher and get some.”
I gasp. “Caspian! You cheeky whore.”
“Who? Me? How dare you sir?” Caspian asks but then winks at me and proceeds to go back to the counter so he can serve a customer who’s walked in.
While Caspian stays busy with other patrons, I deal with the work emergency and mock up my next client’s cover and send it off to her before I go on a hunt for a new identical scrunchie for Arya. We might have made a deal but I know what she’s like and she’ll most likely throw a tantrum about it in a week and I’m not about to negotiate more tears for favors.
It’s hours and several coffees later when I’m calm enough to open my word document.
Untitled Romance by Felix Spring are the only words on it. The only words I’ve managed to add over the past few months.
It’s not for lack of ideas. I’ve got plenty and if I didn’t, all the covers I make and books I read give me enough inspiration.
It’s just…I can’t seem to write any of them down. No matter which idea I pick, as soon as I type Chapter 1 I lose steam and hope. How can I write about love when love has stabbed me in the back and the front a hundred times over?
I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want Mark’s shadow to keep haunting me but his betrayal still stings like a motherfucker.
I thought he was the one. I thought he was my Prince Charming on a white horse. I thought he was my forever and he loved me unconditionally.
Instead he turned into the most hateful, toxic person I’d ever met as soon as I came out to him and told him I wanted to live my life as I’ve always felt inside. A man.
Of all the people I’d been afraid to tell about my wanting to transition, he was the last one I was worried about. Heck, I’d been more worried about telling Elsa than her father.
Turns out I didn’t know him as well as I thought. And our love turned to hate. Our story turned into a cautionary tale. And our divorce turned me into a cynic.
How can I write about love after what I’ve been through? How can I write about happily ever afters when I don’t believe in them anymore? How can I write about the perfect partner who fulfills all your needs when I had the perfect partner and he turned out to be a monster?
I sigh, press my lips from side to side and ignore the pinch in my heart.
You can do this, Felix. You can!
My fingers hover over the keyboard and I hold my breath as I type Chapter 1. I hit return and I’m about to start my first sentence when Caspian speaks up.
“Felix? Don’t you have to pick up the girls from school?”
I turn to my friend in a daze. I have no idea what he’s talking about. It’s still only…
Three o’clock?
“Fuck!” I jump up and try to get my shit together but after five coffees and a trip down memory lane I can’t even think straight.
“How much do I—” I start when I’ve pulled myself together but Caspian waves me off.
“Go. Pick up the girls. You can pay me later, doofus.”
And that’s exactly what I do.
Naturally, I’m the last one there.
“You’re late, Poppy,” Arya says.
“I know. I’m sorry sweetheart. I lost track of time.”
Elsa puts her seat belt on and pouts.
“I said I’m sorry,” I tell her.
“Well, you’re still late. So I think you owe me a favor too.”
I raise an eyebrow at my eldest and ignore the traffic monitor circling my car like a hawk. “Oh yeah. Why is that?”
“You abandoned us out here to fend for ourselves.”
Hm. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been pushing my kids to love books so much. I’m pretty sure it’s illegal for a nine-year-old to use the words fend for ourselves.
“You weren’t fending for yourselves. Ms. Clark gave you cookies and juice.”
“And do you know how long it took to convince her we were starved and needed nourishment?”
“That’s it. No more books for you missy. From now on you’re only allowed to watch Cocomelon and read the occasional CosmoGirl .”
“Ewww, Pop, I’m not six.” Elsa grimaces.
“What’s wrong with being six?” Arya asks.
“It’s not nine,” Elsa tells her sister with a reassuring pat on the knee. “So…about that favor.”
I can feel my daughter’s intense gaze on the rearview mirror but I can also smell another talking-to from the monster-monitor so I drive away while I still have some grace with the pick-up line and money in my bank account.
“I didn’t agree to a favor,” I say once we’ve cleared the school area.
“But you were late.”
“I’m late every other day, sweetie. If I exchanged every tardiness for a favor you’d be the boss of me.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Elsa says.
“That’s because you’re nine.”
“What’s wrong with being nine?” Elsa asks.
“It’s not thirty-one,” I say pointedly.
“God, Poppy. You don’t have to remind us you’re old!” Elsa groans.
I gasp. “You’re never getting a favor if you keep calling me old.”
“Not fair.”
I shrug. “What can I say? I’m your pop, I make the rules.”
“So not fair,” Arya agrees and crosses her arms.
“I was just going to ask if we can stop by Caspian’s. Just so you know,” Elsa says.
“Now that, I can do. I need to pay him for today.”
As we cross the town center I park up opposite Special Blend and walk in while Caspian is talking to an older woman who could have been a fashion model, and still is for all I know.
She’s gorgeous and elegant with a sheer white bob and striking blue eyes.
“Thank you so much, darling. It’s going to be amazing, you’ll see. And it will bring lots of business to your coffeeshop.”
Caspian thanks her and takes a roll of paper from her as she makes her way out the door with a box of baked goods that Caspian most definitely pushed on her and I have a good idea where they’re going to end up.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite girls!” Caspian walks around the counter and Elsa and Arya run up to him to give him a hug. “How about a hot cocoa on the house?”
“Extra marshmallows,” Elsa says with a big smile.
“And rainbow sprinkles!” Arya exclaims.
I groan.
Bedtime is going to be a blast, isn’t it?
The girls rush to the counter so they can watch Caspian make their cocoas and I lean on the register.
“What was that about?” I ask him, looking in the direction of the woman who’s just left.
“Oh that? Agnes is on the Season of Love committee and she just stopped by to ask me if I’d like to participate this year.”
“‘Season of Love’?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah. She wants me to turn the book nook in the back into a gift exchange for Valentine’s or something. I didn’t exactly understand. And she wants me to put some posters up for the speed-dating event at The Striped Maple.” He glances at the roll of paper on the counter and I unroll it with a groan.
“Cupid’s Speed-Dating? I couldn’t think of anything worse,” I say.
“What’s speed-dating?” Elsa asks.
“It’s when adults have a minute or two to meet other adults in mini dates in hopes they’ll find their one true love,” Caspian answers and I roll my eyes, again.
“That’s perfect!” Elsa says.
“What is, sweetie?” I ask, but Elsa ignores me in favor of whispering in her sister’s ear.
Arya’s eyes widen and she starts nodding with the biggest smile.
“We’re in agreement,” Elsa announces after a few moments.
“In agreement about what?”
“I want to catch in my favor,” Arya says and I bite my tongue. Why do I get the feeling those are Elsa’s words?
“Do you mean cash in?” Arya nods. “Okay. What is it?”
“We want you to go to the speed-dating event,” Elsa says and claps her hands together.
“Excuse me?”
“Yes! What better way to find your one true love, Poppy?” she insists.
Caspian is staring at me, barely able to hold in his laughter.
“Don’t enjoy this too much,” I tell him.
“I’m not!” he says and just then the milk splatters all over his clothes and hair.
“That felt good,” I bite back and he sticks his tongue out but I ignore him and turn to my girls. “I’m not doing that.”
“You promised!” Elsa cries out.
“You did!” Arya adds to the cacophony.
“You’re a take-back-promiser!” Caspian exclaims and the girls start shouting in agreement.
I hate you, I mouth at my friend before I look down at my daughters and accept my fate.
“Fine. One speed-dating event. That’s it. Then you’ll leave me alone.”
The girls cheer and hug each other and even though I dread the event, I can’t help the flutter in my chest at seeing them so happy.
What harm could one speed-dating event do?