6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Carrington
I was surprised how easily Thea accepted my invitation to meet for coffee this morning. My talk with Brooks yesterday answered a lot of questions I’ve had since coming back, but it also sprouted a million more. Paired with the meeting at the lawyer’s office, I realize I missed so much in the time I stayed away. I guess a part of me foolishly expected for everything and everyone in Indigo Hill to be frozen in time. I’m hoping Thea can help fill in the remaining blanks.
I’m handing over a few bills to the young barista behind the counter to pay for my order when the bell above the door signals someone coming in. I turn and find Thea stepping inside, her blonde waves resting softly around her face. Her whiskey-colored eyes settle on me, and I see her mentally building up her walls brick by brick with every step she takes toward me.
She looks tired, bone tired. I guess yesterday’s news didn’t help her stress-induced insomnia. She always had trouble sleeping when dealing with big changes or challenges in her life. The lack of sleep would then put more strain on whatever situation caused the problem, and it would be a vicious cycle until something gave out—unfortunately, it was usually her tired body. She’d crash hard and sleep for days.
Barely knowing how to deal with my own emotional state, I was never good at comforting her. My tactic of ignore-the-problem-and-distract-with-food-and-fun worked somewhat. Until it didn’t.
“Hey,” she says to me and then turns to the woman at the register. “Can I please have—”
“A small coffee in a medium cup, four pumps of classic, and light cream to the brim,” I recite.
She looks up at me, her brown eyes disbelieving. After a moment she says, “I add a sprinkle of chocolate powder on top now.” We stare at each other for a moment longer until the spell is broken by the barista sliding over our drinks. I drop a couple more bills and pick up both drinks, holding one out to her. Our fingers brush as she takes it with a quiet, “Thanks.”
We plant ourselves at a table in the back of the café next to a floor-to-ceiling built-in bookshelf that’s bursting at the seams.
Grayce’s Café has a grand total of six tables, each of them surrounded by mismatched chairs that look like they were scavenged from flea markets and yard sales. It’s a tiny space located on the north side of the town’s main square, squished between Oopsie Daisy, the town’s sole florist, and an empty corner space that looks like it hasn’t had a tenant in years, based on the yellow-tinged paper covering the windows.
The café wasn’t here before I left, and everything looks fairly new. The walls are white-washed brick, and the pendant lights cast a soft glow over everything, creating an inviting atmosphere to get comfortable for a long stay devouring a coffee or tea along with one of their delicious looking pastries. It’s made all the more cozy by the numerous plants hanging from every surface and the many pieces of folksy artwork adorning the walls. It makes sense why Thea chose this place. It looks like it was made for her.
“How are you feeling after yesterday?” I start.
“It was… a lot. I really didn’t know what to expect when I got to the lawyer’s office, but it wasn’t… that.” She pauses to take a sip of her coffee and closes her eyes, savoring it. “What are we going to do?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. I want to get to know the business. See what you built here,” I say tentatively. Our interactions have been far less than friendly up until now, and I’m trying to choose my words carefully. The hard set of her jaw tells me she came here gearing up for a fight. I can only imagine what she thinks I plan to do. The truth is, I have no fucking clue what I want to do about it. The contents of the will were even more unexpected for me. I still don’t understand why they left me something that clearly meant so much to not only them but both Brooks and Thea.
“You do?” She watches carefully, her gaze shifting back and forth between my eyes like she’ll find the truth there.
“I can’t make any decisions without knowing the full scope of things. Brooks told me a little about how it all came about, and I have to say, I’m impressed with what you’ve done. He told me how you helped my parents turn things around. That couldn’t have been easy.” I see my words are having an effect when she smiles softly, the ice in her eyes thawing a touch.
“He gives me entirely too much credit. We couldn’t have done half of it without him, and none of it without Ripley.” I clench my jaw at the mention of Ripley but stay quiet letting her continue. “The diner was on its last leg when… I came back. I could tell your parents were planning on closing it down, so I just put all the ideas you had for it into action and hoped for the best. Thankfully, it worked, and things started changing. But I didn’t do it alone. Anyone who claims I did is lying”
“That,” I lean in and point in the general direction of RED just a block away with a shake of my head, “that was not my idea.” I immediately see hurt and maybe a little bit of fear flash across her face and quickly add, “I would never have thought of anything as incredible as that. Not only is it stunning, but from what I’ve seen, it’s also had a huge impact here.” Her presence seems to be doing something to me because I’m not entirely sure I’m talking about RED anymore. I clear my throat and sit back in the chair, putting some space between us.
“I first got the idea for RED shortly after I came back. Ripley came into the diner one day, and we reconnected instantly.” Her face and voice soften thinking about him, while a pit opens in my stomach, a feeling I try not to examine too closely. “He had just gotten back into town himself. Right after he graduated high school, he moved to Kentucky where he got a job at a small-batch distillery working for a family friend who overlooked his age. He spent a few years there learning everything he could.” She pauses to bring her coffee to her lips.
“His grandfather used to make moonshine. Ripley helped him with it when he was a kid, so the interest was always there. After his grandfather passed, I think he thought of it as a way to keep his memory alive, not realizing he’d be damn good at it. But anyway, we got drunk one night and started planning a hypothetical distillery. We laughed it off, but the idea just wouldn’t let go, so I did a ton of research on what we’d need to launch it and brought a business plan to your parents. I must have caught them on a good day because they were all for it. It took some time, but we found a bank willing to give them a business loan—it helped that the land the diner stood on was worth triple the actual business. The distillery building went up first, once that was operational, we razed the diner and built the restaurant.”
“Wow, that seems like… a lot of work. You’re amazing, Thea.” I’m so caught up in her recounting the last eight years, I don’t even realize what slipped out of my mouth. She immediately flinches. Shit . I’m trying to get her to open up and trust me so we can work through this together, but I feel like anytime I’m finally getting somewhere with her, I say something inappropriate, and she shuts down again.
“I told you, it wasn’t all me. Owen and Hazel designed a lot of the interior, and Brooks did all the branding for the distillery. He created the sign outside. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your parents as proud as they were the day it was installed. I think they stood out there just staring up at it for an hour.”
“I had no idea,” I say.
“I had forgotten how talented he is.” Her tone turns warm again. I’m seeing a bit of the old Thea shining through—she’s always the most animated when she’s talking about people she cares for. “He was so cute when he came to me with a sketch of his idea. He was so nervous he asked me not to tell your parents where it came from. Of course, they immediately loved it. I’ve had other business owners come to me over the years asking for the name of my designer. You’ve probably seen his work around town. I keep telling him he should get his name out there and start getting paid for the work, but he refuses. Maybe you can talk to him.”
We both grow quiet. She knows just as well as I do I have no say in what my brother does. I barely had any influence over him before I left, and I definitely don’t these days.
“What’s your plan now?” I say switching the topic.
“I—I don’t know. We had plans for another expansion, but now…” She pauses and takes a deep breath, and I know she’s psyching herself up to say something. “Let’s cut to the chase. What’s your plan here? I can’t afford to buy you out, not yet at least. I’ve looked into my finances, and I just can’t swing it right now with everything else. I’m willing to keep things going as they have been, and maybe we can come up with some sort of payment plan so I can buy your share over time…” she trails off, a challenge in her eyes.
“I haven’t made any decisions. I think I need to get a lay of the land and see how things are being run, what’s working, what the plans are for the future.”
Her gaze turns hard, and I know I’ve said something wrong again.
“So you plan on staying?” The words leave her lips, and panic fills her eyes.
“For a little bit, but I have to get back to Seattle soon. I have to go back to Car—my restaurant. My manager can only do so much without me there.”
She nods in understanding before saying, “How involved are you planning on being here? The expansion we had in mind can’t be put into motion 3,000 miles away if you plan on being in charge of it. And if I’m being honest, I have it handled. You can stay on as an investor or something. I don’t need a partner or a boss. I don’t know why they did this.”
“I don’t either, but I honestly don’t have an answer for you right now on how it’ll all work. I just need all the details before I’ll feel comfortable making a decision.”
The silence stretches out between us, and I shift in my seat trying to find a way back to a more comfortable topic when the bell above the door rings. Thea’s eyes dart over to see who came in, and a smile breaks out on her face, the tension from a moment ago gone. I turn around and see Ripley making his way over to us.
Great.
If this wasn’t the only coffee shop in town, I’d think this was planned.
“Hey, babe,” he says, sitting down in an empty chair next to Thea and giving her cheek a quick kiss. He then turns to me. “Hey, Cary.”
I give him a small up nod and a blank expression in greeting.
“You’re here early. I can’t remember the last time you rolled out of bed before eleven,” Thea says with what I think is a knowing smirk.
“Well if someone hadn’t made a racket getting dressed and out of the house this morning, I’d still be happily in bed,” Ripley says, and I track his arm as it slips over the back of Thea’s chair. She seems to find comfort in his grip but doesn’t melt into it.
Not like she used to with me. I shove that thought aside quickly.
“I tried to be quiet, but I couldn’t find my jeans.” It’s then I notice she’s wearing the same clothes from yesterday, and the pit in my stomach from earlier opens up wider than ever.
“All good,” he replies with an easy smile, settling back in his chair, his eyes on me. Ripley seems to be one of those people who’s comfortable in any situation. I’m sure he can sense the tension radiating off of me, and there’s a bit of a challenge in his eyes. “Whatchya guys up to?”
“We’re trying to figure out what to do with RED after everything we learned yesterday.” He nods at her, clearly already aware of the details of the situation.
“I’m not sure much needs to change. We all know you could run that place with your eyes closed… single-handedly,” he says this to Thea with warmth, but his eyes are anything but when they cut to me.
Single-handedly —as in, without me.
Got it, Rip. You don’t want me here, and Thea doesn’t need me.
“Oh, stop, I know everything you do for that place in the background. Not to mention, I wouldn’t even know where to start when it comes to the distillery,” Thea says.
“Nothing a few hands-on demonstrations can’t fix,” he says salaciously. My molars grind at the insinuation, and I have to look away from the look they share.
It’s then Ripley’s phone chimes, and he pulls it out, quickly glancing at it.
“Oh, I have to run—Brooks says he can meet me early to transfer the mash. We’re still on for tonight?”
“Tonight?” asks Thea with a questioning look on her face.
“Yeah, it’s Thursday. Date night,” he says, waggling his eyebrows.
I roll my eyes, but neither of them is paying any attention to me.
Thea chuckles. “Wouldn’t miss it. Will you have time to take me to grab my car beforehand?”
“Of course, babe. See you, Cary.” He gives her a quick kiss on the forehead, grabs a coffee at the counter, and is out the door. Thea’s eyes follow him until he’s out of sight.
“You seem… happy with him.” My chest burns as I speak those words.
“He’s… my person.” Her eyes are warm with affection for the man. “He was there when I needed him, and I can’t imagine what my life would look like without him.” Each word feels like a papercut to my skin. I recall a time when I had been her person. I know her intention isn’t to hurt me, and I honestly don’t know why I’m feeling like this. She’s allowed to be with whomever she wants. I’m glad to see her happy. But I can’t shake this feeling that he’s not the one who should be making her happy.
“I’m thinking we should reopen the restaurant to the public on Monday. People have been calling asking for reservations, and the staff needs to get back to work, a lot of them rely on tips,” says Thea. “We also have a big charity event this Saturday that’s been booked for months that I need to finalize the prep for.”
“Okay, I’ll come in and help with the prep. You can show me what there is to know about RED, and I’ll try to make myself useful in any way I can.”
Thea nods in agreement, and we make tentative plans to meet at the restaurant mid-morning tomorrow. I sit alone at the coffee shop for a long while after she says goodbye, reflecting on everything we talked about.
I knew coming back here to deal with my parents’ deaths would be difficult. I just didn’t realize how excruciating it would be to have to deal with that while also seeing the woman I used to love more than the breath in my lungs love someone else.
When did I become a fucking masochist?