Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Two
After her conversation with Ayla, Allie felt suddenly desperate for the warm, predictable atmosphere of her tiny apartment. Snow was starting to fall as she made her way home, the early winter dusk teasing the city, threatening to plunge it into darkness before everyone was ready for it.
Allie arrived in the café to find it bustling. One of their occasional part-time staff was in the kitchen while Mindy worked alone at the cash. She was blasting the Linda Ronstadt album that she knew Allie and Ren both hated and singing along over the loud hissing of the milk frother.
“Allie!” She waved.
Allie lifted her hand in return. “Everything good here?”
“Absolutely. It’s been a while since you and Ren have been off on the same day. I almost forgot how good I am at this.” She laughed, more animated than Allie had seen her in a while. She smiled in spite of her own cloud of miserable uncertainty.
“I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”
Mindy waved her off as she slid a cappuccino across the counter to a customer and picked up the tongs to move a pastry onto a plate. “I’m fine. Go have a shower. You look like you haven’t slept in a year.”
“Thanks for that.” Allie made her way upstairs, the thrum of Linda Ronstadt’s bass notes reverberating through the floorboards.
She turned on the shower and stripped off Ren’s pants and Anisha’s sweater. How appropriate that she was dressed in other people’s clothes on a day when everything about the last twenty-four hours had left her wondering who she was. Was she a person who would be happy running a café or someone who would only be fulfilled by a music career? Was she someone Ryan actually cared about or just a friend that he had accidentally slept with? Was she the girl who had alienated her whole band by being a bitch or someone who could be—and had been—forgiven? It was a relief to be alone under the warm rushing water. She washed her hair and covered herself with soap, remembering Ryan touching her less than a day ago.
Maybe this is his thing. Maybe he befriends women, sleeps with them, and then that’s it. Anisha seemed to think he fucked things up because he was scared, but what if he was just a manipulative asshole?
It was a long con if that was his intention with Allie. Surely there were easier ways to get into someone’s pants than helping them conduct an extensive search for their ex-bandmate.
And buying them a Christmas tree.
Her tree was waiting for her in the corner of her room, lights shining in the winter darkness. She lay down on her bed, facing the tree and the windows, which were giving her a pleasant view of the city lights outside.
I could stay here. I like it here.
The shower had helped. Sweatpants and her Blondie T-shirt and her warm bed also healed a small part of the pain in her heart. But she still felt broken as she lay there. After a few minutes, she got up and shuffled over to her crate of her dad’s old cassettes. Paula Abdul was still on the top of the pile. That album was much too perky for how Allie was feeling. She dug into the crate and pulled out a Bangles cassette instead, longing to hear their version of “Hazy Shade of Winter.” The foreboding, cynical lyrics, sung in driving harmony, would help her feel less alone.
With the cassette spinning slowly in her boombox, Allie slunk back to her bed and covered herself with blankets. She felt as if she hadn’t exhaled in two days.
Maybe this was too much action for her. Too much excitement after years of days that were so similar she couldn’t remember what happened week to week. She would go back to her small life, forget about romance with Ryan, forget about writing new songs, maybe even forget about finding Jessi. That would make her feel better.
She threw the covers off herself and stood, jamming her feet into her slippers. She could hear Mindy singing along to “Poor Poor Pitiful Me” as she descended the stairs.
Her aunt was just leaving the kitchen to head back out front, so Allie joined her. Mindy looked her up and down critically. “I’m glad you cleaned up, but you can’t come to work in those clothes.”
Allie rolled her eyes. “I didn’t come down to work. I came down to talk to you.”
There was only one customer left in the café, a man staring at his laptop, wearing headphones. He had a full cup of tea and a lemon tart sitting beside him. The part-timer had gone home. Mindy was alone.
“Okay.” Mindy nodded. “We can talk in the kitchen for a minute. That guy seems occupied.”
They walked back into the kitchen and stood on opposite sides of the counter.
“I wanted to tell you that I’ve decided I will take over the café. And the building. And everything.”
She’d expected Mindy to be happy, at least as happy as her reserved aunt ever got. But Mindy regarded her with a suspicious gaze. “Are you sure? Why now?”
“What do you mean, why now? You just told me yesterday that you had an offer! Now seems like a reasonable time.”
“But yesterday, you weren’t even close to knowing what you wanted to do. And to be honest, I thought you were ready to refuse and were just trying to spare my feelings. You’ve been out partying and god knows what else for twenty-four hours. When have you even had time to think this through?”
“Believe it or not, I am able to have thoughts while doing other stuff. It’s an actual human quality that I happen to possess.”
Mindy did not laugh. Her already squinty eyes got smaller. “Is this about Ryan? Did something happen with Ryan?”
Allie broke eye contact and hated herself for it. “No. Nothing happened with Ryan.” She fidgeted.
“Okay,” Mindy said, leaning forward. “So, something happened with Ryan. That’s established.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Allie muttered.
“Look, Allie.” Mindy laid both palms flat on the prep counter. “Please do not agree to take on a business and a building and an entirely new set of responsibilities just because a boy made you feel sad.”
“That’s not what this is.” Allie looked back up and matched her aunt’s stare. “He didn’t make me feel sad, and that’s unrelated to the café, anyway.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well, then, I don’t know what to say to you.” Allie threw up her hands and struggled to keep her voice at a reasonable volume. “You asked me to take over the café, and then you gave me a hard deadline because of this offer, and now I’m telling you I want to do it, and you won’t even accept it. What the fuck am I supposed to say, Mindy? Do I beg for this thing that you’ve already offered me?”
“I just don’t want you to do it for the wrong reasons.”
“This isn’t an episode of The Bachelorette ! There are no right or wrong reasons! There are only reasons !”
Mindy was silent. Allie wondered whether her aunt had ever seen an episode of The Bachelorette .
“So, what are your reasons, then?” Mindy asked quietly.
Allie sighed. “I like it here. I feel safe here. I’m good at managing the café. I’d hate to see everything you’ve built over all these years end up destroyed. I can’t picture any future for myself other than one where this place is a huge part of my life.”
Mindy looked to the left, sniffed once and turned back, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Allie slowly smiled back.
“Satisfied?”
Her aunt nodded, shaking her head once and arranging her features back into her usual frown.
The bell on the café door jangled, and they both looked back toward the main space. “I have to go back out there.” Mindy smoothed her hands down the front of her apron and then put one hand on Allie’s arm and squeezed. “I’ll decline the other offer tomorrow morning.”
Allie left her aunt to serve the new customers and went back up to her apartment. Invigorated, she opened her laptop to her recording program, grabbed her guitar and headphones and positioned her microphone in front of her. Without overthinking, she started playing the chords to “Straight Up,” keeping the arrangement much simpler than the Paula Abdul original and slowing down the ’80s pop tempo so it became an almost sultry, yearning version.
As she opened her mouth to sing, she felt every one of her tangled emotions pouring out with her voice. She did three takes of the song and then slammed the laptop shut, leaving the mixing and editing for the next day. Suddenly, she was beautifully calm, as if singing the song had relieved her of all the stresses of the past few weeks. She was finally back in charge of her own life.
She fell asleep on top of her covers in her sweatpants. It had been months since she’d slept so well.