Chapter 6
chapter
six
MAREN
I slide a latte toward Gemma, my hand pleasantly warm from the steaming drink, and I thank her for stopping by. As she leaves with her daughter in tow, I find my favorite customer bouncing toward me, her thick cardigan flapping with each step like window shutters in a storm.
My sister clasps her fingers together on the counter and lifts a dark, penciled brow. “Did you know the average cloud weighs over one million pounds?”
“Wow. A whole-ass Antarctic blue whale weighs up to four hundred thousand pounds.”
It’s the game of fun facts we still play, even after all these years—one of my favorite traditions that’s only ours. It’s up there with eating the popcorn garland before it ever makes it onto our Christmas trees.
“Coffee?” I point to the espresso machine.
She peruses my fall menu and waves over the special beverages I’m offering this season. “Surprise me with one of these, please.”
“I have just the thing for you.”
A maple brown sugar latte. It’s one I like to drink a few times a week myself. I almost want to add it to my permanent coffee menu, but would that make it less special?
It’s hard to appreciate certain things when you have easy, full-time access to them. Which is what I’m hoping will happen with Nate. He’ll move back to town and become less of a shiny, rare commodity to me. He’ll be far less appealing.
In developing this theory, though, I thought about him all last night.
I could still feel his hand at my lower back, where he’d held me while we danced.
He invaded my dreams like a fucking mosquito, annoyingly buzzing around my head with nowhere else to go. The turmoil over him moving back irritated me to the point where I was an hour early to work because I couldn’t sleep.
And yes, I hate him for that too.
The reasons I dislike him keep adding up.
“When were you going to tell me Nate’s moving back to town?” Accusation swims in Dixie’s brown eyes.
I abandon the cinnamon I was about to sprinkle on top of her drink. Instead, I lean out the wide window, and the breeze jostles my bangs across my forehead. “How did you hear this already? I only found out last night, and besides, you don’t even live in town. Word can’t travel that fast.”
“I grabbed some apple snickerdoodle muffins from Bready or Knot on my way over here. The lady chatterboxes were very loud with their gossip on their way to church this morning.”
“You got muffins? I set aside fresh molasses dream cookies for you to take home.”
“When did I say I don’t also want cookies?”
This makes me smile. My little sis has always had one hell of a sweet tooth. As many bakeries as she has access to in Savannah, she still makes the half-hour drive to Sapphire Creek for her sweet goodies.
I have no shame in taking advantage, too, luring her in with baked treats just so I can see more of her.
“So? Are you going to keep me on the edge of my seat about this Nate thing, or what?”
“You’re not sitting down.” I stick my tongue out, and she sticks hers back like we used to when we were younger.
“Cute,” she deadpans and levels me with a glare that becomes far less playful the longer we square off like this.
It’s obvious she’s not going to leave with only the cookies and a light, pleasant chat about married life with Barrett, her job as an HR rep, or our date at the Boozy Brush next weekend for wine and painting.
I’d rather discuss the facts about clouds than delve into my complicated—and pathetic—disturbance over my ex-boyfriend.
I finish decorating the top of her drink, grab my watered-down iced latte, and exit the side of the truck. Dixie follows me, and we nestle onto the picnic table under the comforting mossy oak that’s older than this town.
This tree has been a staple for me in more ways than one.
When I decided to open my coffee truck, I knew exactly where I wanted to park it.
To my luck, the spot was available for rent.
I figured I’d leave it here for a while, then go on the road to other parts of town and beyond, even.
But Cream and Sugar has never moved since we opened.
It’s been my happy place, so why mess with a good thing?
Dixie watches me as she sips from her cup and licks the milk from her top lip. She doesn’t even take a moment to hum in satisfaction over my choice of coffee for her. There’s no reaction whatsoever. This blank expression would do wonders at a poker table.
With a sigh, I start, “I don’t know how much you heard, but Nate’s not just moving back to town. He and his daughter are moving into his parents’ house. We’ll be neighbors again.”
Finally, her impassive expression cracks. Her eyes widen, and she gapes. Clearly, she didn’t hear this part at Bready or Knot.
“He told me at the reunion last night, like a ten-year anniversary gift.” I feel the blood drain from my cheeks.
“Not like a romantic anniversary, obviously, but it was just weird timing, right? Almost serendipitous, but not in a good way. Of course, I don’t care in the slightest. I’m fine with him being around from now on.
I didn’t even think twice about it after I left the Buchanan House last night.
” I fumble with my bangs—I should’ve used more hairspray this morning.
“So, you’re clearly fine,” she says, but it’s loaded with sarcasm.
My skin crawls, and I drop my hands to my lap. “I am fine, Dixie. What’s not to be fine about? He and I are in the past, and that’s where we’ll always stay, whether he’s in a different state or twenty yards away.”
“I don’t believe you, but I do think that would be best.” She reaches over the table for my hand, and I slide it into her waiting palm. “You were a wreck when he left. I can’t stand the thought of him hurting you again.”
“I’m fine,” I repeat softly and force a smile, no matter how weak.
She returns her hand to her side of the table. Streams of sunshine flit through the tree overhead, and the dancing branches play a shadow show across her concerned frown.
We’ve sat in this very spot countless times. When it was the three of us, Mom would bring us here for picnics to eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and popsicles.
My mother had a great laugh. It was the kind that flowed out of her so easily like the water of a peaceful stream. The sound was infectious. Even if I didn’t know what was so funny, I’d still smile because of it.
Sometimes, while I’m out here alone in between filling orders, I can still almost hear it, and it brings me unparalleled comfort. Missing her is like missing a limb.
After she passed, Dixie and I would still come out here often. This is where I told her I was buying the coffee truck and opening a business. It’s where Dixie told me of her plans to change her major, and it’s where she announced her engagement to Barrett.
The old, impressive oak is almost like a celebratory monument of our sisterhood. A lot of times, it’s also like nature’s confessional.
“Do you think I’m the marrying type?” I blurt.
Last night, Nate asked me about marriage, and my feelings about the idea are scattered across my chest like candy from a beaten pinata.
It’s not exactly a priority at the moment. I can’t secure a measly date, let alone a damn ring, but it still haunted me most of the night.
“You just said you’re not going to let Nate back into your pants, and now you want to marry him?
” Dixie practically shrieks. If anyone were nearby, I’d reach across and clamp my hand over her big mouth.
But thankfully, the families at the playground are far enough away and totally engrossed in their games and swings to eavesdrop.
I hold a finger up. “First of all, I never said anything about him getting into my pants.”
“You don’t have to. I’m your sister. I can read between the lines, even when you can’t.”
“Second of all,” I grind out. “I’m not marrying Nate. It’s just a question. A musing, really.”
“It has something to do with Nate, though. You haven’t talked about marriage in ten years, but after you find out he’s moving back, that’s what’s on your mind.”
This twenty-six-year-old sister of mine is too smart and intuitive for her own good—and mine. She should’ve been a fucking detective.
“Forget I asked. It’s stupid.” I swipe the cup in front of me, and the liquid sloshes from side to side like the contents of my stomach. I’m nauseous as hell from all this talk about Nate.
I haven’t talked this much about him in the last ten years combined, and now, he’s all I can think about.
“I think this is a good opportunity to sell the house.” Dixie shifts across from me.
My jaw nearly comes unhinged. “You know I can’t do that. Mom would—” I swallow back the rest of that sentence. “It’s the house we grew up in.”
“Be practical, Mar.” The corners of her eyes melt into a frown. “You could downsize and get something more affordable until you do decide how you feel about marriage. That way, you could actually have savings by the time you walk down the aisle.”
“My savings is fine.”
“You’re saying fine a lot.”
“And you’re forgetting I’m the big sister here. I’m supposed to shower you with advice—not the other way around.”
She waves me off. “All I’m saying is that the house is too big for you to live in alone, and it needs a new roof.
When was the last time you got it inspected?
When Barrett was over last month, he mentioned that a few shingles appeared loose.
Then there’s the kitchen. You do most of your baking in there, but the oven only works half the time.
I don’t know how you get anything done.”
My skin pricks with indignation.
“Plus, I’ve lost count of how many things you want to do with the coffee truck and the appliances that need to be replaced. You once planned to add more picnic tables out here, but that’s stalled too.”
“I’m making progress on paying off existing debt before I pile on more.”
“I know, honey. And that’s smart, but…” She squeezes my hand again, and the diamond on her engagement ring digs into my finger like an extra reminder that I might be the older sister here, but she’s definitely the more adult one.
She’s married with a house of her own.
A salary-paying job with benefits.
Dixie and her husband are even saving for their retirement with Roth IRAs.
I needed her to explain to me the difference between it and a Traditional IRA.
She’d explained it to me as easily as describing the difference between hot chocolate and coffee.
Like none of it confused her at all, when I nearly went cross-eyed from the complicated details.
“I’m not saying any of this to attack you. You know that, right?” Dixie dips her head to meet me at my eye level. “I’m just worried that you’re not adequately preparing for the future, and you and I both know how badly that can bite you in the ass.”
She doesn’t have to remind me. She and I are both still paying off Mom’s debts and medical bills. As a single mother, it was hard to keep up with regular bills as it was, but when she got sick, it became impossible.
My heart rate spikes at the possibility of spiraling down a financial rabbit hole. So far, I’ve been treading water and doing my best to simply stay on track. Most of the time, my best isn’t even enough.
On the other hand, Dixie is ahead, and she has been for a while. She even covered my share of the payments the last two months, and she didn’t break a sweat doing it, either.
“Speaking of the future…” She toys with her coffee-cup sleeve and indulges in a big drink. “This coffee is the best thing I’ve ever tasted, and I’m not just saying it because I want to savor every last drop before Barrett and I start trying again.”
Did I hear her correctly?
Her lips slowly curl into a smile.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” My heart skips.
“We want to start a family, Mar.” Her smile falters but only slightly. “We started trying earlier this year, then took a break after a few months, but we’re taking it more seriously now. Spreadsheets and cycle tracking like we’re getting paid for it.”
Tears blur my vision. “I didn’t know any of this.”
“I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I know it can be a long road, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer.”
I could leap over the table and tackle her with joy.
“That’s amazing!” I clasp my hands over my mouth, my heart thumping wildly. “I’m going to be the number one fucking aunt this world has ever seen.”
“I’m sure you are, but like I said, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“I’m just so happy for you two.” I jump out of my seat and nearly stumble over to her side of the bench.
I slide in next to my sister and lean my temple to hers as we watch the kids chase one another on the playground. Their squeaky voices reach us like music, and I can’t wait for her to bring her own kid out here to play.
We embrace each other and settle into a comfortable silence. We stay this way for a while, without saying a word, but if I had to guess, we’re imagining the same things—matching our shirts to the baby’s onesies, warm snuggles, cozy family gatherings.
Most of all, I smile as I picture my sister and her complete family.
“Barrett would make a great father, don’t you think?” she whispers, and while it’s a seemingly innocent question on the surface, there’s much more lurking underneath.
I don’t know what makes a great father, and neither does she. Both of our fathers walked away when we were too little to comprehend what that meant.
While I don’t remember a single thing about my dad, I remember bits and pieces of Dixie’s. He’d stuck around until she was three, lasting far longer than my own father, but ultimately, parenthood and family life weren’t for either of them.
I’ve come to believe our dads did us a favor by disappearing, but I know in my gut that it won’t be that way with Dixie and Barrett.
“Yeah,” I say. “He’s going to be an amazing father, and you’re going to be a fantastic mother. I have no doubt.”
She squeezes me tighter, and a wave of emotions drags me under.
Dixie is ready to be someone’s mom, which is yet another way she’s more grown up than I am. She’s planning a future, and I’m sitting here with my ovaries in a twist because my old boyfriend is moving in next door.
After a beat, Dixie pats my hand. “We don’t have to talk any more about selling the house, but can you at least consider a date with someone who isn’t your ex?”
I sigh. It’s not the worst idea. In fact, it would be rather helpful to focus on someone new. A real prospect. “Where would I even begin to find someone?”
The wicked smile she flashes should terrify me. “Leave it to me.”