Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Faye
“Ican’t keep listening to this music,” Isaac whines as he stocks coffee cups beside the register. “When do I get to add some songs to the playlist?”
“Never,” Honey says with a laugh.
“I’ve been here almost two months,” he says. “I should get a song.”
Honey rolls her eyes. “Two months, everybody. Pop the champagne.”
“You don’t like our music?” I ask as I steam a pitcher of milk.
“I’m just saying,” he says with a shrug. “If I have to listen to one more guy playing his acoustic guitar while whining about a girl he lost, I’ll have no choice but to shove two stir sticks into my ears.”
To be honest, I’m kind of sick of the sad love songs too. They’re not helping anything.
“What do you want to listen to?”
“Don’t humor him, Faye,” Honey says as she hands over an iced coffee to a man in a suit. “There will be an aggressive amount of bass and the artist will have ‘DJ’ in their name and each song will be at least eight minutes long.” She narrows her eyes on Isaac. “Am I right?”
“Whatever,” he grumbles.
“Yeah,” she says as she starts on an iced vanilla latte to go. “I heard what you were listening to yesterday in the changing room. We’re not doing that. And there is such a thing as headphones by the way.”
Isaac opens his mouth to argue.
“No rave music,” Honey says. “Music shouldn’t be made on computers. It should be made with tears and real instruments and unquenchable human angst.”
“No computers?” Isaac says with a laugh. “What are you, forty?”
Honey drops the cup in her hand and turns to him with fire in her thirty-one-year-old eyes. Uh oh. I know that look.
“Maybe something with a bit more life would be nice,” I say as I quickly get between them.
“You don’t look a day over twenty-four,” I whisper as I head to the sound system.
She huffs out a breath and gives Isaac one last glare before picking up the cup and getting back to work.
I find a playlist of upbeat songs and put it on. Hall and Oates blasts through the coffee shop.
Isaac drops his head with a groan. “This is even worse.”
Honey laughs as she smacks him on the back shoulder. “On your one-year anniversary we’ll let you pick a song.”
“Yay,” he says sarcastically. “I can’t wait.”
We get our regular batch of customers coming in—Mr. Alvarez who reads the newspaper while drinking a London Fog and Darla with her pack of adorable dogs.
All of our regulars are here. Except for one. He hasn’t been here all week. Every morning at 7:38, I look at the door, hoping to see him walk in, but he never does. I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever see Owen again.
“He texted me at nine forty-five last night,” Darla says as she leans on the counter. “So, that’s a good sign, right?”
Darla is having her roof redone and has a huge crush on the head contractor. She’s been talking about him all week.
“Depends,” Honey says. “Let me see your phone.”
She hands it over and Isaac eagerly leans over Honey’s shoulder to read the message too.
“I don’t know,” Honey says after shooing Isaac away. “It sounds like you have water damage under the flashing.”
Darla sighs as she takes the phone back and rereads the text a few times. “He has such nice forearms. I can overlook a lot if the guy has nice forearms.”
I notice Isaac subtly checking out his skinny forearms behind the cappuccino machine.
“Faye,” Darla says, “you’re the expert. What do you think?”
I sigh as I finish up her order—a double ristretto, oat milk, sixty degrees, stirred for consistency, no foam, and the espresso needs to sit for ten seconds before combining. She told me to give her ‘whatever’ and I’ve kind of missed making it.
“I’m probably not the right person to ask right now,” I tell her.
“Why?” Darla says. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say. “You should go for it.”
“You think?” I hand her the coffee and she takes a sip. “Mmmm, that’s good.”
“Just tell him you like him,” I say. “You might be missing out on the best time of your life if you’re always playing it scared.”
My own advice echoes in my head as she takes another sip, thinking about it.
A lady with a barky dog walks by outside and her pack of clients start their chorus of barking, whimpering, and whining in response. “Oh shoot, I gotta go!”
“Be bold,” I say as she rushes out.
“Don’t do it!” Isaac shouts after her.
Honey just shakes her head as the door slams shut. “She’s not into you.”
“Not yet,” Isaac admits. “But one day… I’ll be the one assessing her water damage.”
“You’re so weird,” Honey says, rolling her eyes.
I duck under the counter and head onto the floor to wipe down the tables. Why can’t I take my own advice? I’m always playing it scared…
Clarissa—the cozy mystery author—has a big grin on her face as her fingers fly across her keyboard at record speed. She hits the last key with an emphatic slam of her index finger and then leans back with a satisfied sigh.
“All done?” I ask with a smile.
She exhales in relief. “All done. Well, the first draft anyway.”
“Did they find the killer?”
“They did,” she says with a laugh. “It was the father-in-law the whole time.”
“Oooh, juicy.”
I rush back to the counter, grab her a cinnamon roll on the house, stick a sparkler in it to celebrate, and bring it over. “Congratulations! You’re done!”
She looks so happy and accomplished as she stares at the sparkler working its way down to the base. All that hard work and plotting and writing and frustration, but she’s finished.
Clarissa doesn’t play life on scared mode. She’s putting herself out there.
It’s time I do the same. My weekend in Muskoka has made me realize that. Spending time with Owen, Edward, and Amber has made me realize that I can be doing so much more. I should be striving for more. It’s made me curious… What am I truly capable of? What can I accomplish?
Being with all these people who do incredible things, big things, bold things—it’s inspired me. I’d like to stop playing it so scared all the time.
“Thanks for the encouragement, Faye,” Clarissa says, smiling up at me with teary eyes. “You’re the best. I’m going to dedicate this book to you.”
“Really?” I say with my heart aching. “That’s so sweet.”
My mind keeps racing as I plan for the future while I work around the shop.
I have a paid apartment for three years, which should be more than enough time to get something going before I’m out on my own again.
Maybe I can take a class, or apply for a new job?
Owen said I have exceptional people skills…
Maybe I can use those skills to help better my life somehow.
I’m still thinking of what I can do to inject my life with a boost of something when Ethan and Monica come in before their rock climbing class.
They look so in love. It warms my heart to see, even if it does make me feel a little sad at the same time.
“Hey, Faye,” Ethan says with a warm smile. “Can we get two cold brews please?”
“Coming up,” I say, grabbing two clear plastic cups. “How have my two favorite rock climbers been?”
They get all smiley with puppy love as they look at each other. It’s adorable.
“So good,” Monica says. Ethan nods in agreement. “I’m meeting his parents tonight.”
“Wow,” I say as I fill the cups with ice and pour the cold brew over them. “That’s a big step.”
“When you know, you know,” Ethan says, smiling at her like he’s ready to say his vows right here and now.
He heads to the bathroom as I add a splash of milk to their drinks.
“You okay?” Monica asks as she leans on the counter. “You look a little sad.”
I force out a smile, but it’s not fooling anyone. Especially her.
“I think I just need a change,” I say. “A new—” I stop. I was going to say variable. That’s Owen’s word. Oh no, he’s in my vocabulary now.
“You should join the rock climbing class with us,” Monica says, lighting up. “It might be the kind of shakeup you need!”
I laugh as I picture myself clinging to the side of the fake mountain trying not to scream.
“I don’t think that’s for me,” I say. “I’m not very coordinated.”
“That’s exactly why you need to come,” she says. “Get out of your comfort zone. I’ll be with you the whole time.”
“I don’t want to be a third wheel,” I say. “You and Ethan are so cute together.”
“Yeah, but he’s way too advanced for me,” she says. “I can tell I’m holding him back and he wants to climb with his buddies. We can do it together while he climbs with his friends. It will be a win-win-win for everyone.”
“I guess I can finish early on Thursdays,” I say, thinking about it.
Every part of my body is screaming at me to say no. That’s why I must say yes.
So long, comfort zone. It was nice knowing you.
“Okay,” I say, already regretting it. “I’m in.”
I grab Newton after work and bring him out on a walk. He’s so excited to see me, wagging his tail and spinning in circles.
I took the cutest photo of him sleeping on the couch last night. He was on his back with his head hanging off upside down. My first thought was to send it to Owen and it made me so sad knowing he probably wouldn’t want to hear from me.
“Look at this guy,” my doorman Jacob says with a big grin as he kneels down to pet Newton. Jacob is always slipping him dog treats and Newton is in love with him.
“Is Mr. Hamilton traveling this week?” Jacob asks, making casual chit-chat. “I haven’t seen him around.”
I take a deep breath, wondering what to tell him. “We’re… not together anymore.”
He looks up at me with sad eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I got the dog in the divorce,” I say, making an awkward joke.
He just sighs sadly as he pets Newton. “I got the dog in my divorce too.”
When he stands back up, his legs covered in dog hair, I give him a hug. The other tenants walking in and out look at me like I’m crazy—I doubt any of them even know Jacob’s name let alone have ever hugged him—but I don’t care.
“You take care, Miss Hamilton,” he says as I leave with Newton. “And enjoy your walk.”