Chapter 17
Madison
The rush finally died down by mid-afternoon, the clatter of mugs replaced by the softer hum of the ceiling fan and the scrape of chairs against the floor.
The Beanery always carried that lived-in comfort.
Cinnamon sugar woven into the wood grain, mismatched mugs stacked in open shelving, and chalkboard doodles from Evie that made even the Out of Order sign look cheerful.
Olive sat cross-legged at her little table in the corner, head bent over her coloring page.
She had drawn a crooked house with a giant sun overhead, Bunny holding hands with a stick-figure that suspiciously resembled Seth.
My stomach knotted the second I recognized the messy scribble labeled Unkl Seth.
Blair’s words echoed like they were stitched into the walls: Maybe you should let yourself see that side of him, too.
I tried to shove them aside, but they stuck, persistent as burrs.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Blair leaned against the counter, sipping the iced chai Evie had slid her way.
I shook my head, tugging the rag over a clean patch of countertop for the tenth time. “You don’t want to know.”
She smirked. “That bad?”
“That's confusing.” I lowered my voice, leaning closer so Olive wouldn’t overhear. “Blair, she called him Uncle Seth. In front of everyone. And he didn’t– he didn’t stop her. He just let it happen. I don't want her to be disappointed when she doesn't see him again once the house is fixed.”
Blair’s eyes softened in that way only a best friend could manage, equal parts empathy and knowing amusement. “You sound shocked. He’s always had a soft spot for kids. He used to sneak you cookies when Mom told him no.”
“That was different,” I argued, but my chest squeezed anyway. “This is Olive. She doesn’t need to get attached to someone who might not stick around.”
Blair set her cup down and touched my hand. “Maddie, he’s already sticking. He’s here. He’s not running off to some city. This is his home now.”
I looked away, throat tight. It was easier to scrub at invisible crumbs than admit she was right.
The bell over the door jingled, and Evie called a cheerful goodbye to one of the last regulars. The shop fell into a hush that was almost too comfortable. Olive hummed a tune, crayons clattering across the table, the kind of simple, ordinary sound that made everything else blur for a moment.
I wanted more of this. Stability. Ease. A place where Olive could giggle with muffin crumbs on her face, and I didn’t feel like the walls were closing in.
But now, Seth had crashed into that picture, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t untangle him from it.
“Hey,” Blair said softly, nudging my arm. “You don’t have to decide anything right now. Just… breathe. Take it one day at a time.”
One day at a time.
It sounded so simple.
Olive hopped off her chair and bounded to the counter, thrusting her drawing into Blair’s hands. “Look! Uncle Seth helped Bunny fix our house!”
My cheeks flamed. Blair, of course, laughed. “That’s beautiful, sweet pea.”
I pressed my palms against the counter, exhaling slowly.
Seth might’ve walked out of the shop with his grumpy frown and his too-broad shoulders, but he hadn’t left me.
Not really. He was still here, lingering in the edges of my thoughts, in the curve of Olive’s smile, and in the memory of that reluctant grin when she called him uncle.
And that terrified me more than the storm ever had.