20. Maisie
Chapter 20
Maisie
T he obnoxious chime of a bell rings as I swing into Brewed Awakening for the second time in two days. Audra’s propped on my hip because I didn’t want to take long enough to strap her into a carrier.
Harlan kissed me. What the hell does that even mean?
I both want to dance around in happiness and curl into a ball with the covers over my head.
Knowing that I was fully in my own head about the brief but strong punch of Harlan’s kiss — the situation called for female perspective. Something that had been lacking from my life for longer than I could remember.
Jem’s brown hair is tied up in a high pony, the waves of the tail brushing across her neck, dangling earrings dancing as she stands behind an espresso machine with the poised confidence of a general directing troops. There’s a low chattering din of customer conversation floating around the space and the upbeat music playing through the speakers is energizing but not loud enough to deter conversation.
“Maisie!” she calls out when she sees me.
Am I really intruding on her work day to talk to her about a kiss? A barely-there kiss that I can’t get out of my head?
Fuck. I shouldn’t have come. Or I should have at least texted first to see when would be a good time.
I spent the better part of last night tossing and turning in bed, reliving the feel of Harlan’s mouth pressed against mine, and the second I had Audra fed and dressed, we bolted out the door.
The line of customers waiting to put in their orders is nearly out the door but moving forward at a steady clip. The door chimes behind me and I step out of the way, knowing that I’m not going to order anything.
“Grab a seat and gimme fifteen minutes,” Jem calls, her hands working furiously to grab cups and pour coffee while two other people bustle around her making drinks or plating food and one works the register.
Fuck it. Just fuck all of it. I need advice.
Even if that advice comes from Harlan’s sister-in-law.
I eye the packed café. Almost all of the tables are full, and I didn’t realize that this was such a popular morning spot.
It’s coffee, dumbass. You should have expected the crowd.
“Maisie. Over here.” I hear my name from the left, slightly behind me.
Giselle and Andy are sitting at a table and Andy has her arm slightly raised to get my attention. I start toward them.
“Here.” They both shift their stuff out of the way. “You can sit with us.”
I settle into the seat and prop Audra on my lap. “Thank you. This is Audra, my daughter. It’s crazy in here,” I say, eyeing the early morning crowd.
“Eh. This is about normal. This is the only place in town to get coffee, the closest shop is one of the chain ones at the resort, so it’s almost always popping in here first thing in the morning. She’s a cutie,” Andy says, her hands curled around a ceramic mug in a kaleidoscope of colors as she smiles at my daughter.
“Aren’t you going to order something?” Giselle asks me, sipping from her own mug.
I shake my head. “No, not a fan of coffee or tea.”
They both peer at me over the rims of their mugs. “You came into Jem’s café at nearly seven in the morning, but aren’t here to order anything?” Andy asks.
I shrug, not sure what to say to the two women I barely know.
“First off, how do you function this early without caffeine? Secondly, I smell girl talk,” Giselle says with a Cheshire smile.
“I’m nursing, so I tend to avoid caffeine. It’s not easy,” I answer the first question.
“And the girl talk?” Andy cocks an eyebrow.
Heat warms my cheeks, and I wish I could stomp the stupid blush lighting my face up into submission.
“Ah ha!” Giselle points a finger at me. “Dish.”
“No. No. Let’s wait for Jem,” Andy says. “This way she only has to say it once.”
I swallow past the thickness in my throat. I was expecting to talk to Jem, not a committee of women.
Breathe. You can do this, Maisie. This is what normal women your age do. They girl talk.
Andy scoots a plate toward me, half of a chocolate chip muffin the size of a softball laying on the wrapping. “Here, you can finish that, because I sure can’t.”
My stomach clenches hard before letting out a rumble.
Fine, stomach. I’ll feed you.
I was in too much of a hurry to talk to Jem to worry about things as inconsequential as food, only stopping to feed Audra before I got us dressed and loaded up.
Harlan’s department SUV was gone when I left this morning, so he either got an even earlier start than I did, or he slept at the station, but I don’t know him or his routine well enough to guess.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
Andy nods. “I can never finish the muffins here — they’re too big.”
“That’s what she said,” Giselle quips, and they both share a chuckle.
I pull the plate forward and break off a small piece. Audra’s hands reach for the food in mine, and after breaking the piece a little smaller, I let her have a nibble. Her torso wiggles back and forth in my lap when she gums a piece of chocolate, and she lets out a cute coo at the flavor, making me smile.
Same girl. Same.
I pop a bite into my mouth, the crumbly texture of the bread is soft and then chocolate explodes across my taste buds.
“This is so good,” I groan and quickly eat the rest of the muffin. “Thank you,” I say. Just as I swallow the last mouthful, Jem sets a cup of something pink and iced in front of me. She plops down in the last remaining chair to my left while plucking Audra out of my lap.
“Hey, there, pretty girl. You and Mama are up early.” Jem runs her hand over Audra’s sprouting black hair before turning to me. “Try that.”
She nods to the drink in front of me. I don’t want to insult her by reminding her that I don’t like tea and brace myself for the earthy taste of tree bark before taking a small sip .
Light and refreshing. Something fruity dances along my tastebuds leaving a crisp aftertaste, the chill of it nice as I swallow.
“What is that?” I ask in awe.
“Gummy bear green tea. Tea infused with pomegranate, passion fruit, watermelon, and grapefruit. There’s only about fifty milligrams of caffeine in there, so it should be safe for you to drink. You like it?”
“Oh my god, yes.”
Audra lets a screech out and slaps her hands down on the table as I take another drink.
“Whoa there, girly. Someone’s a morning person,” Andy says to my daughter.
“Yeah. Getting her to sleep past five is a luxury we haven’t discovered yet,” I deadpan.
“Yes, yes, she’s cute and adorable, and I’m dying to hold her. Jem is the queen of all drinking things, Andy can’t finish a muffin and I’m sleep deprived, but Maisie has girl talk,” Giselle whisper-yells to the table.
A quick glance around shows people too interested in mainlining coffee to pay attention to us.
“Don’t worry about them.” Jem nods to the people sitting at the tables near us. “They’re not all the way awake yet. What’s up?”
Am I really about to get the perspective of women who I just met and who just hired me to work on their websites, while the first friend I’ve had in years holds my daughter in a very crowded café? The same new friend that’s related to the subject matter?
What if Harlan doesn’t want anyone to know? What if they think that I’m just using him for a place to stay or that I’m easy? I mean, look at me, I have a baby, whose father is nowhere to be found, and about two seconds after I land at her brother-in-law’s house, he’s kissing me.
What if they think I’m a terrible person?
Jem catches my eye, and there’s a small smile on her face. The smile doesn’t say “you’re a ho” or “how dare you take advantage of my family.” I don’t know exactly what that smile means, but I’m taking it as encouragement to go on.
Here goes nothing.
“Harlan kissed me,” I blurt.
Andy snorts coffee out of her nose, and Giselle claps a hand over her mouth. Jem’s small smile turns into a Cheshire Cat grin.
“Told you so,” she gloats.
I pass Andy a napkin. “Sorry.” My cheeks feel like they’ve been injected with napalm right now.
“Nah, you’re good. Just warn a girl next time, would ya?” She smiles at me after mopping up the mess.
“Wait. Wait. I need backstory,” Giselle says.
“Um, backstory?” I ask.
“Yeah. When, how, what were you doing before, how long was it, was there tongue? Where were your hands? Where were his? That sort of thing.”
“Jesus, Cece. Give the girl a second,” Andy says.
“Don’t judge me, Andy. I haven’t had a decent date in nine months and eight days. I need my thrills from somewhere.”
A snorting laugh and fortifying inhale later, I answer, “Last night, in my apartment after he walked me and Audra home, not long, no tongue, he was holding my hand and kinda cupping my face, I guess.”
“Boo,” Giselle says.
“Not boo. Sweet,” Jem counters .
Andy rolls her eyes. “You both are nuts. How do you feel about it, Maisie?”
“Um…” I hedge, not sure how to explain it feels like a glitter bomb went off in my guts after the smallest brush of Harlan’s mouth against mine.
“We like Harlan, right? He’s ridiculously sexy in that uniform, and I can’t think of a steadier guy,” she continues.
“I mean, I might be biased since he’s my brother-in-law, but I mostly agree with Andy,” Jem agrees.
“I don’t know him as well as they do, I didn’t grow up here, but I haven’t had any problems with him,” Giselle offers.
“It’s not that. I like Harlan. He’s… Harlan.” I trail off when I can’t think of a simple way to describe the man taking up more of my gray matter than I’d admit to.
He’s kind. Generous. Steady. Calm.
Harlan’s safe. And I forgot what safe was a long time ago.
“Then what’s up?” Jem says, bouncing her legs lightly to jiggle Audra when she starts to squirm.
“I don’t know what it means. He just kissed me and said goodnight before leaving. Does he want to do it again? Did he hate it? What happens next? Do I make the next move? Should there be a next move?” The questions punch out of me with the gusting force of a windy gale and my shoulders sag.
They’re gonna think I’m crazy, just blurting all of that out.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, take a deep breath lady,” Andy says after my explosion.
I suck in air, dizzy from the twisting mess of emotions that have taken up residence in my body. These women probably think I’m psycho .
“Maisie. I know you haven’t had the best — luck — with partners.” Jem’s lips purse as she speaks, barely repressed anger sparking in her gaze. “But Harlan’s not your ex.”
Andy and Giselle look at me keenly, but I don’t see sympathy in their gazes, more like curiosity, and I take a chance.
“My ex was abusive. That’s what Jem is referring to.”
My chest aches at the thought of more than a few people knowing. The shame of allowing myself to be in that type of situation curdling the muffin in my stomach. But can I really move on from it if I still hide that part of me behind careful smiles and practiced small talk?
“I’m sorry you went through that,” Giselle says, her eyebrows pinched together.
“I hope his dick is rotting off right now,” Andy says with a spark of temper in her gaze.
“Hey! I said the same thing,” Jem says, holding her hand up for a high five.
Andy slaps her palm before they turn back to me.
“Harlan isn’t that guy. He’d never do anything like that — but I’m guessing you already know that,” Jem says before continuing. “As for what it means and how he felt about it, you’ll need to talk to him about it, honey. Then you’ll have your answer for the rest. But if I had to bet, I’d put my money on Harlan.”
She’s not wrong, on any of it. Harlan isn’t that guy. But there’s comfort in her confirming my thoughts when it comes to him and the kiss. I’ve put so much trust in him already, what could it hurt to give a little more trust to have a conversation with him?
“Are you staying in Everette? I know you’re here now, but once you replace your camper, are you staying?” Giselle asks .
The question brings me up short.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
She nods. “That’s fair. But you should probably think about that too before you talk to him — before you both get into whatever you’ve got going, you need to decide whether you’re going to stay. It’s not really fair to either of you to start something up if it has an expiration date — unless of course you both agree on that.”
She’s not wrong, and I haven’t thought more about staying. I’ve been dealing with life as it comes at me one mess at a time for so long it’s second nature at this point. Thoughts of the future don’t go beyond what town or city I’ll stop in next.
“You’re right,” I concede. It wouldn’t be fair for me to bring all this to Harlan without any thought to the future and what it would mean if we both agree to start — whatever this is — up. Which means I need to think. I need to decide. Not just about my future here, but about what I want from Harlan and what I want out of that kiss. What I want out of life and if I’m willing to roll the dice and see where this goes, where the possibility of me staying would go.
Jem leans forward in her chair. “But answer one thing for me. Was it good?”
“So good it nearly blew the hair off my scalp,” I answer before thinking about it.
“Well. Isn’t that something,” she says with a grin.