CHAPTER FIVE
Coffee Affair was exactly how she remembered it.
It hadn’t changed much since she’d been a teen; only the counter space and the color of the walls had been refreshed in the last couple of years.
But the tables, the chairs, the smell of sugar and roasted coffee beans …
It was like she’d stepped back in time—especially since Emma and Izzy were waiting for her at their usual table by the window.
Iz had been the one to choose it, back when they were twelve, and when April had asked why, more used to their classmates rushing to the back of any given establishment, she’d smiled and said it had the best view of the trees.
There was still a bite in the air that morning, the sky threatening rain, so April had borrowed a pair of her mom’s old overalls and the boots she’d lent her for their rainy walk a day prior, and had thrown a holey sweater over the top to stay warm.
It wasn’t the kind of outfit she’d have worn around the house in New York, let alone out and around other people, but it felt good.
Natural, even. The overalls were a deep blue-green that kind of matched her hair, the tee she wore under them was an off-white from too many washes, and the thick knitted sweater was pink with specks of green in the yarn.
The outfit was surprisingly color-coordinated, if a little rough around the edges and splattered with paint from various DIY projects.
She paid for her drink and made her way over to the small table and window seats opposite the counter and to the right of the door.
From the cushioned window seat, Emma pushed out April’s chair with one foot and she murmured her thanks as she dropped into the rickety wood.
Maybe it was her imagination, her own mind playing tricks on her, but it felt like people were staring.
For most of the town, it was probably their first time seeing her since the funeral.
But it was rude to stare, dammit. She caught the eye of old man Colton as he stepped away from the counter with his coffee and her ire faded at the gentle smile on his face.
He’d been close with her dad but seeing him didn’t hurt as much as she’d thought it would.
More of a throbbing ache than the fresh sting of grief.
Proof that she was healing, albeit slowly.
“What have you got?” Emma leaned forward, brushing a few stray springy curls away from her face where they’d attempted to stick to her pink lipgloss.
It was Em’s favorite game whenever they were out for—food or drink, she always wanted to try whatever you had.
How else will I try new things? she’d said when April and Izzy had teased her about it.
“Iced strawberry matcha.” She didn’t wait for Emma to ask, just passed the cup over for her to have a sip—the look of bliss on her face making April feel smug.
“Be right back,” Emma muttered as she handed April her drink back and made her way to the counter. “That shit is good.”
Izzy raised a brow and April pushed the cup toward her too, amused when she took the tiniest sip and her eyes popped wide. “I’ve had matcha before but not like this.”
“The sweetness of the strawberry mixes nicely with the creamy matcha.” April finally reclaimed her cup and grinned when Emma sat back down a few moments later with her own iced strawberry matcha.
They touched their cups together and sat quietly, each in their own thoughts.
Emma had brought a book—a romance, based on the shirtless guy on the cover—and Izzy was writing in her journal, a habit she’d had since they were kids.
It’s for mindfulness, twelve-year-old Izzy had explained.
She was probably one of the most well-adjusted people April knew, so it had clearly worked for her.
April liked to people-watch. Seeing faces, old and new, walking through town on their way to work or school, maybe to the shops or to one of the fitness classes they sometimes held on the green, watching the trees change and the flowers bloom … That was her kind of mindfulness.
They sat there in silence, companionable without the need to speak, sipping their drinks until they were gone and the three of them looked up at each other one at a time.
“Same time tomorrow?” Emma said, her voice breaking the spell of calm as April and Izzy nodded. This morning ritual had always left her feeling more centered, and while she’d tried to join in via video chat, it just hadn’t been the same, until eventually she’d let it lapse.
Izzy was the first to stand. “I’ve got to get to the council offices. Have a good day, girls.”
They waved goodbye and April stretched before she stood too. “I need to do a shopping run. There’s only so long I can go without underwear.”
Emma snickered. “Well, as much as I’d love to join you, I actually have a virtual meeting in twenty. I could meet you later, though?”
April thought about it before shrugging. “Maybe … I’m visiting the bar with Noah today.” She didn’t need to add that, depending on how that went, she might not really be in the mood for company.
Her friend’s eyes softened, their pale-green color making April long for spring to come in properly. “Of course. See how you go, and call me if you need me.”
“I will.” With a smile and one more promise to call if anything came up, April walked out of Coffee Affair just as the sun broke free from the clouds for the first time all morning.
The bell to the cafe jingled cheerily behind her and, combined with the sudden appearance of the sun, she felt a surge of certainty.
Whatever the day held, she could handle it.
As she walked the familiar route to The Last Call, April found her nerves building with each step.
It was strange that she had felt less nervous speeding away from her life in New York than she did now returning to the bar.
After all, April had spent practically half her childhood there.
It had kept their parents so busy that she and Noah often spent their evenings after school in the back office while their mom and dad worked out front.
As she walked, she thought of the rare occasions when, during quiet moments, her dad would let her sit at the bar with a tumbler of apple juice, pretending she was one of the regulars.
She smiled despite the familiar pang of painful nostalgia that made her chest tighten.
Noah was waiting for April outside, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.
“Hey. Took you long enough to get here.” His eyes grew wide as he took in April’s outfit.
“What the hell are you wearing? You look like mom’s closet vomited you up,” he joked, trying—and failing—to stifle his laughter.
April simply rolled her eyes as he hugged her, secretly reassured by his familiar presence.
“How’re you feeling? Sure you’re ready for this?
” The quiet concern behind his words made April’s chest tighten a little more, but she nodded.
“Yeah, I’m all good. Can’t open a business here if I can’t even get through the door,” she replied, hoping that the cheery note in her voice wasn’t too obviously fake. If it was, Noah didn’t comment on it, which she was grateful for.
Noah turned and unlocked the door, entering first as April followed behind.
Surprisingly, she found that her nerves seemed to fade as she walked into The Last Call.
Unlike her dad’s workroom, there was no real presence of him here.
Much of his old memorabilia that had hung on the walls had already been packed up and stored away in the garage when the bar closed.
The interior itself looked like it hadn’t been updated for close to a decade and needed more than just a lick of paint if they wanted to reopen.
If anything, the overall effect was strangely underwhelming for April, relief easing the tightness in her chest as she looked around.
Mail was piled up by the door, alongside enough dust and debris to make April long for rubber gloves. This place needed a deep clean and refurbishment.
Noah blew out a long whistle. “God, this place is a dump.”
Unfortunately, April couldn’t disagree. “It’s something, all right.”
“To be honest, it needs so much work I don’t know if we’d get much for it if we decided to sell it as it is.
” Noah was eyeing the ceiling doubtfully as the dirty floorboards creaked underneath his footfalls.
“We’d probably have to whitebox it if we want to sell it for a decent amount.
I can do that, though; I have a couple buddies who would probably help out, too.
But if we don’t want to keep it, it might be easier to sell it to Luke so his firm can just level it and start over. ”
April blinked, shocked at how casually Noah brought up this idea. “I don’t trust Luke as far as I can throw him,” she said, defiantly.
It was true that the space needed a lot of work.
A clean, a repaint, the floorboards probably needed nailing down again, and it was likely that the electrics needed to be serviced and updated.
Plus, she was pretty sure she’d seen a rat earlier.
But the layout was great. The double doors opened directly onto the floor space and the windows were large, letting in a ton of natural light.
“So, you want to keep it?” There was a hint of smugness behind Noah’s words as he looked at her, like he’d known all along what choice she would make. “I thought you might want to. Mom said something to me about flowers.”
Of course she did. “It was just talk. I know you wouldn’t be interested in something like that.”
Noah shrugged, watching her carefully. “No, but if you would be, then I can get behind it. I’ll help renovate; you come up with a business plan. We could be a good team.”