2. Intentions
JUSTIN BIEBER
2
INTENTIONS
“I wonder what’s crawled up his be-hind lately,” Georgia said, waddling in front of the others and heaving herself into a seat at the high counter. She wiped any remaining tears from her face and pulled her curly locks into a bun. “He’s just such a grump. I’m sorry he treated you that way, Sadie. We should probably egg his car.”
“Or TP the loft while he's at work,” Ginny added. She'd been particularly giddy over Georgia's increasingly defensive instincts during her pregnancy, no matter how insane the ideas might be. The week before, Sadie had needed to sit the sisters down and convince them not to send a glitter bomb to a co-worker Caroline had a disagreement with. Although, sending a certain Remillard a glitter bomb right about now sounded mighty appealing.
Nevertheless, Sadie waved them both off, not bothering to admit how wounded she felt when Dakota treated her with contempt… or how confused she felt in those rare moments when he didn’t. When he was amiable and kind and—dare she even acknowledge it—flirtatious.
Ginny turned the lights to a soft dim and shuffled through supplies. “I think we all know exactly what crawled under Kota’s skin and festered there… like a mystical, man-eatin’ bacteria. Only the bacteria is a walkin’, talkin’ tattoo parlor with perfect hair, big brains, and a sass that drives our brother batty.”
She whipped Sadie with a towel before gathering ingredients for drinks and started singing, “Ohhhh, here she comes. Watch out boy, she'll chew you up…”
“Nah. It’s more than just his usual broody pining. He’s reverted back to preteen, emotional turmoil Dakota,” Caroline argued. “I mean… no offense, Sadie. You’re amazing, and Kota is obviously obsessed with you, but his crabbiness of late is more than just unrequited love. And trust me when I say, one round of hormonal Dakota was enough to last a lifetime. I’m not sure even the promise of your future together will suffice to keep us all from wringin’ his neck. ”
“Oh!” Georgia piped in. “Remember when he went that whole year carrying around his ‘journal’ everywhere he went?”
“It’s not a diary!” Ginny mocked with laughter in her voice.
“Y’all, I read it once! It was chock full of poetry!” Caroline laughed and clapped her hands, brimming with excitement. “Life is hard. Life is short. I long to be in the woods. In the air…”
“STOP!” Ginny snorted, waving her hands in front of big, brown teary eyes. “I can’t. It's too much.”
“Oh man, I might pee…” Georgia rubbed her hands along her belly, snorting identically to her youngest sister. “Just imagine the love poetry he’s writing now!”
“Y’all, quit!” Sadie huffed, shaking her head, used to the normal teasing that went along with their friendship and, their newest obsession, matchmaking her to Dakota—whom she would NOT be matched-made to. Thank you very much.
She snatched the forgotten oat milk container out of Ginny’s hands. “Iced lattes?”
“Oh, yes, please,” Caroline batted her eyes, “you beautiful, unicorn woman. Have any lavender syrup left? You know those lavender honey lattes are my favorite.”
“‘Course.” Sadie turned to Georgia, reigning in the rambunctious sisters like a pro. “Decaf cinnamon? And, Gin, you want an Americano with…”
“Pistachio. But I’ll help ya.”
Sadie set to making drinks with Ginny. The quiet hum of machinery and their usual chatter filled the space, and all discussion of Dakota’s myriad of moods paused. Her hands moved with the practiced motion and muscle memory of someone who’d worked at Good Start for years. Even the Remillard sisters sitting in their usual places at the counter, or one behind the counter as Ginny was, felt like a daily routine. As commonplace and welcoming as calling your best friend after a long day or eating a warm cookie straight out of the oven.
But despite the familiarity and the laughter her friends always brought to any space they inhabited, Sadie’s head swam in an overwhelming buzz of static that she just couldn’t shake. Distracting. Painful. And getting louder by the moment… and with every encounter she had with Dakota Remillard. The constant buzz grew louder.
“Hey,” Caroline brought her back to reality and tilted her head, studying Sadie from across the counter. “What’s up? You seem really distracted tonight.”
“Yeah, buttercup. You’re hardly your usual sunshiney self.” Georgia sipped her latte and let out a satisfied sigh. “Man, you have a gift, my friend. This is so good. Thank you.”
Sadie shrugged and offered a wide, fake it till ya make it smile.
“Nah-uh. No way!” Ginny butt-bumped her all the way around the counter until Sadie was forced into a seat then quickly surrounded by the others. “Don’t give us your fake smile nonsense. And don’t you dare let that man upstairs steal your joy!” She pointed her finger to the ceiling as if she could zap the man in question with a lightning bolt summoned straight from her index. “I love him, but he can be so dense, I swear…”
“No,” Sadie interrupted. “It’s not Kota. Although, I wouldn’t mind seeing him brought down a peg or two…”
She paused, knowing she could tell this group of women anything but feeling far more vulnerable than usual. She’d grown used to the role of advisor, not advisee. And she wasn’t sure what help they could bring her anyway.
“It's… my parents.”
Georgia gasped. “Are they okay? Are they sick? What do you need?” She nearly lept from her chair, grasping her underbelly, ready to jump into whatever action necessary.
“Oh no… no, they’re okay. Goodness, Georgia… Please sit down before that baby just slips outta you. I don’t know if I could work here anymore, or look at you the same for that matter, with the memory of all your liquids and… stuff… on the floor.”
Georgia rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t really work like that, but I hear you.”
Caroline giggled at her sister then took Sadie’s hand in hers, pulling it to her lap. “Tell us what’s goin’ on, girl. We’re here for you.”
Sadie couldn’t help but feel that familiar warmth again. The acceptance and care she’d felt from the Remillard family from the moment they’d invited her into their lives. Even in the smallest of ways.
“So, ya know, my parents, they’re older… Well, I’ve been livin’ with them and helpin’ take care of them for as long as I can remember. It’s why I didn’t go out of state for school or… And then when I left school, I… Well, I mean... What I’m tryin’ to say is, I’m happy to help them. I want to be there for them.”
“So, you’re like, their caregiver?” Ginny asked.
“In some ways. I guess I am. But it's not a burden.”
“Of course not,” Georgia said.
“Anyways, my parents decided it's time to move into a retirement community. They’ll have more care, and I know it’ll be safer for them, but it’s expensive. And the move kind of leaves me with… Well, they’re selling the house, so,” she lifted her shoulders and slumped in her chair, “I’m just not sure where that leaves me.”
Sadie looked around the room at the beautiful, refinished train station turned coffee shop and the women in her life who she’d come to depend on and love dearly.
She’d chosen a school where her parents were working at the time so that she might support them in any way she could. And she’d intended to study English, just as both her mom and dad had, until her life was thrown upside down and all her carefully laid plans blown out the window like a hot breeze in the middle of a Southern storm. In the aftermath, she’d found herself with few friends, a huge amount of embarrassment, that particular college no longer an option, and zero path forward.
So Sadie had adjusted, made a new plan, and taken on the management position at Good Start to help support her family. In doing so, she’d refused to dwell on what had happened to change the trajectory of her life so abruptly and, instead, focused on keeping up with medication alarms, doctor’s visits, employee schedules, and constructing the perfect seasonal latte. She’d been given purpose and, equally so, been drawn into the fold of a second supportive family. It had felt like a second chance, one her friends hadn’t even realized they’d given her.
Tears filled her eyes, and the static returned. “I don’t have anywhere to go… and… and I’m just going to miss them so much. I don’t know what to do. I feel just… stuck.”
All three sisters wrapped her in a hug.
“You’ll stay with us,” Caroline insisted, snuggling into Sadie’s shoulder.
“You’re basically still newlyweds. I’m not staying with you.”
“It's been over a year for us, but you can stay with Lake and me!” Georgia, belly smushed into Sadie’s face, brushed a motherly hand over her curls. “We have the room.”
“And a baby on the way.” Sadie squeezed her arms around all three. “And before you even offer, Gin, I know you don’t have space with your roommates. I’ll figure something out, but having you guys here for me… just knowing I can have a good cry… it's enough.”
“We’re always here for you, Sadie. Always.” Ginny pulled back, framing Sadie in with both arms at her waist. “And I would happily bunk in my apartment with you if you want! We’ll make the room.”
“We could always kick Kota outta the loft and give it to you!” Ginny offered. “It makes sense anyhow with you bein’ manager and all.”
“Oh my gosh, no! Can you imagine?” Sadie hated how much she loved the idea of seeing a flash of fire in Dakota’s eyes when told he’d have to give up his cherished apartment to her. She snorted at the thought, a flurry of excitement washing over her, and waved them off. She didn’t need more reasons for Dakota’s animosity. “Thanks, y’all, but I’ll find a place of my own. No need to make Kota homeless… however tempting.” Sadie sniffed, running the back of her hand across her wet nose. “I’m real sorry I interrupted your family game night for this… I didn’t…”
“Oh, hush!” Caroline shushed her. “You, Sadie Mills, are family. Period. You’re one of us, alright? And this,” she waved her arms around in the air, “is what families do. We’re here for each other. We tease. We bear burdens. We love big.”
“We love you big, Sadie Girl.” Georgia squeezed her again.
“And…” Ginny added, “we love watching Dakota squirm. So please—please—interrupt Dominoes Night any time.”
Sadie nodded, accepting their sentiments, and winked, feeling a bit lighter after disclosing so little to them.
“Save me a seat.”