Chapter 41Rose
Chapter 41
Rose
“P ete! What do you mean you’re not going to train me?” I pulled the phone away from my ear and frowned at the screen. Yep, still connected.
“You heard me, Rosie,” he said sternly. “If you keep trying to juggle all those coffee mugs at once, they’ll just come crashing down on your head. I’m giving you some tough love here.”
“But who’s going to fill in at such short notice? I can’t ask you and Mike to stay through the winter to get the grocery pilot off the ground.”
The pilot I’m relying on to save the café.
“Don’t worry—I’ve put the word out in my network. And, hey, I’m not too old to—”
“Oh, Pete, I don’t think that—”
He repeated himself, steamrolling right over me. “—I’m not too old to keep the roastery going in the meantime. You do not need to add ‘coffee roaster’ to your already-packed resume. Let your friends help you.”
“Well, at least let me pay you—”
“Sure—free lattes for life.”
“But you already…” I dwindled off. Oh. The coffee bean finally drops.
“You’re a sweetheart, Pete. Thank you.”
“Anything for you, Rosie.”
We parted ways so I could pick up another call from Miss Ada—her fourth so far—to confirm her time for pictures with Santa Paws. I expected to hear from her at least twice more before the day was out.
“Yes, I’ve got you down for tomorrow, Saturday, at one-thirty. Remember to come to the side door a few minutes early,” I reminded her. “If it’s raining, you all can stand under the covered decks. Ana will be there dressed as an elf—you can’t miss her.”
“And Katt promises to have the copies ready by late next week?” she asked in her quavery voice. “I’ve got my cards ready to go, only waiting for the photos.”
“Yes, indeed. We’ll call you when they’re here for you to pick up.”
Her gentle “thanks, dearie, Merry Christmas, dearie” lingered in my ears after we hung up.
I resisted looking at Rafe’s texts for the umpteenth time and called Katt instead. She picked up on the second ring.
“Girl, you are booked solid,” I informed her. “Oh, wait. I think I left you fifteen minutes for a snack-and-wee break each afternoon.”
Her signature raspy laugh came through the line. “Good thing this is only for the weekend. Now all we have to do is get the dogs and cats to behave—and maybe some of their people.”
Katt was no doubt thinking of last year when we first offered “Pet Photos with Santa Paws” for the Dogwood Shop Local Days. She’d been on her own, with no help wrangling people and pets in and out of our meeting room—aka the Santa Paws photo booth. Archie, a handsome boxer, had escaped from his dad and chased his poodle girlfriend Colette through the café.
We got smart this year, and Katt had enlisted Ana as her Elf Helper with the promise of a handcrafted sparkly green costume. Joe, a retired firefighter with a full head and fluffy beard of snowy white, again volunteered his time for Santa Paws. Katt donated her skills, too, keeping the fees for printing the photos affordable for all.
Before leaving the meeting room, I rested my eyes for a moment. They still ached—less from crying, more from sleepless nights. I couldn’t just lie there for hours on end, so I’d wander downstairs. Pirate would grumble but jump down and follow me. We’d snuggle on the couch, and I’d binge on Elvis movies, PB chocolate chip…and memories.
Rafe wasn’t helping. Or maybe he thought he was by not ghosting me—by not deserting me entirely. I broke down and opened my phone to stare at his texts.
After the first couple of wordy ones, they’d boiled down to more Rafe-like messages:
Thursday * 8:52 p.m.
RHR
Goodnight, Rose. Sleep tight.
Friday * 6:24 a.m.
RHR
Good morning, Rose. Eat breakfast? Set alarm?
I hadn’t responded yet. But he could see that I’d read each one.
I jerked away from the screen when Mateo swung open the door.
“Hey, Rosita! We need your opinion on display space for the gift tins.”
I followed Mateo into the hall, instructing myself: do not look, do not look, do not look into the roastery. I didn’t want to acknowledge the Rafe-sized hole there.
Well, there, and at home, in my bed, on walks with Pirate…in my heart.
Shaking my head, I emerged into the noisy café. My vision instantly blurred, and I blinked hard to clear the wet. Are you going to cry all day here too?
My head finally caught up to my heart. Ahhh, not Rafe-related this time — at least, not entirely.
When Mateo, Jen, Liliana and the kids realized my holiday spirit had packed up and left town—literally—they’d stepped into the breach.
Rows of shiny garland tinsel lined the café walls from baseboard to ceiling. Dog and cat ornaments of every size and sparkle hung from the garlands, looking for new homes on trees around the neighborhood.
Our Howl-o-ween dog skeletons had reappeared all through the café, now decked out with Santa hats and mini-wreaths around their necks.
Our new Chocolate Lab gift tins ran rampant down one counter. Mateo’s pup from conception to roll-out, the giant tins were waiting to be stuffed with all manner of branded gear, coffee mugs, bags of beans, dog treats, coffee-making equipment and chocolate goodies.
The final shout-out to holiday spirit? On windows, doors, walls and counters (the bathroom, too, I suspected), Mateo had posted colorful signs announcing our annual event:
“It’s the shih tzu, Mateo!” That got a laugh and an eye roll. I gave a giggle in return, my first in a while.
My phone rang with “A Little Less Conversation.” I glanced at the number and picked up. “Hello, Miss Ada. Yes, this is a good time. Yes, I’ve got you confirmed for…”
Friday * 8:43 p.m.
RHR:
Goodnight, Rose. Sleep tight.
Friday * 9:02 p.m.
Me
Goodnight, Rafe. You too. A kiss for Princess.