Chapter Ten
CHAPTER
TEN
Over the week that followed, Beth spent the majority of her time second-guessing her decision. Had she acted impulsively? Too rashly? She’d have to throw a lot of cash at this renovation, but would it pay off in the end? Would she earn the money back, and then some?
She thought about contacting Noah and asking him to hold off, but by the time she even considered that as an option, he’d already organised for the site to be surveyed and the house to be tested for asbestos.
And he was so excited to be sketching his ideas for the new layout that she didn’t have the heart to tell him to wait.
She knew, of course, that he’d understand if she wanted more time to think about it, but the longer she held off saying anything, the more she believed this was the right course of action.
Still, that didn’t stop her from spending her free time worrying, which was why she relished her shifts at the cafe, especially when it was busy, and today was exceptionally busy, given that Lan was working the kitchen.
Lan managed the canteen at the local primary school but sometimes filled in for Tom on Saturdays, and her pork bánh mí was wildly popular.
The bell over the door tinkled and in filed Flo and her craft group.
Beth welcomed them with a cautious smile.
She’d spent some time with Flo over the last month and they’d been getting to know each other over cups of tea, but this was the first time she’d seen any of the others since the day she’d fled from them in a panic.
‘Hello, ladies—Oh!’ Too late, she realised her mistake when she spotted Trevor bringing up the rear. ‘I mean, everyone. Hello, everyone.’
Trevor dismissed her correction with a wave. ‘“Ladies” is fine by me, honey. It’s Hana whose pronouns are they/them.’
Crap. How on earth was she supposed to get her foot out of her mouth after that? She wished she could disappear.
‘I am so sorry, to both of you. To everyone. That was really presumptuous of me.’ Logically, she knew her faux pas was insignificant, but that didn’t stop her face from heating with embarrassment, which only heightened her anxiety because what if the others noticed how red her cheeks were?
Normal people didn’t let such silly mistakes get to them.
This was why it was easier to just keep her mouth shut.
Willing her body temperature to return to normal, she did a quick head count, then rearranged some tables, pushing two together to accommodate the group. When she was done, she turned and ushered them forward, confident that her blush had eased.
Elsie and Carmen chatted animatedly as they took their seats and Flo patted Beth’s cheek gratefully as she passed.
‘We heard Lan’s working today,’ Trevor said as he sat down. ‘So bánh mí all round, if you please!’ Waving Beth over, he whispered, ‘Extra pork in mine and all is forgiven,’ then gave an exaggerated wink.
Beth grinned. She couldn’t blame him for trying to get a bit of extra pork crackling. ‘Deal,’ she said with a nod, then turned and almost collided with Hana, who inhaled sharply.
Concerned she’d stepped on Hana’s toes, Beth apologised—‘I’m so sorry!’—but Hana shook their head and smiled before taking their seat.
After that, Beth scribbled down everyone’s drink order and noted that five bánh mí were required, one with extra pork, and less than fifteen minutes later, everyone had their food and drinks.
Trevor peeked into his bread roll, then caught her eye and saluted. ‘Tell Marge I said you deserve a raise.’
Beth laughed and set about clearing some tables, leaving the group to enjoy their meal.
By the time the lunch rush had died down, Beth was frazzled.
Countless diners had come and gone, yet the craft group remained.
Their meals had long since been consumed and they were on their second round of hot drinks.
And not only that, they’d each pulled out a crafting project—Trevor was embroidering, Flo was knitting, Elsie and Carmen were both crocheting, and Hana—
‘Oh, wow!’
Her arms laden with dishes, Beth leaned over Hana’s shoulder to get a closer a look at their drawing. ‘Gosh, that’s amazing!’ Hana had sketched an incredibly detailed willy wagtail, so lifelike that Beth half-expected it to hop right off the page.
‘Here, join us,’ Trevor insisted, getting to his feet and dragging a chair over from the table closest to theirs. ‘You deserve a quick break.’
She knew she should protest, but she was so in awe of Hana’s talent that the temptation was too great. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, she supposed.
Leaving the dirty dishes on a nearby table, she sat down beside Hana and turned to them as the others listened to a story Elsie was telling. ‘I’m sorry if I offended you when you came in.’
Hana shook their head, making it clear they hadn’t taken offence, but said nothing to put Beth’s mind at ease and continued drawing.
Glancing around the group, Beth couldn’t help noticing how quiet Hana was compared to the others. It reminded her of the lunchroom at work, how she’d sit silently while everyone made small talk and told funny stories about what they’d done on the weekend. Did Hana feel as alone as Beth had?
Determined to make conversation and let Hana know that Beth saw them, she nodded at Hana’s sketch. ‘That really is beautiful. Where did you learn to draw like that?’
Hana beamed, though their cheeks took on a rosy hue, giving the impression of being pleased but also embarrassed by the compliment. They glanced down at the drawing and appeared to hesitate.
Worried that she’d somehow managed to offend Hana, Beth rushed to smooth things over. ‘I’m sorry, you don’t need to—’
But Hana held up a finger, asking Beth to wait, then took the notepad that sat on the table in front of them and, after turning to a new page and scrawling a few lines, handed it to Beth.
Intrigued, Beth read what Hana had written: I don’t speak, but I’m happy to communicate this way. Is that okay?
Hana didn’t speak? What did that mean?
Beth covered her confusion by nodding and handing back the notepad. ‘Of course that’s okay.’
Hana wrote a few more lines. I took visual arts in school, but drawing has always come naturally to me. They shrugged, bemused, when Beth looked up again.
‘Well, you’re very talented,’ Beth said, though her curiosity was gnawing at her.
Why couldn’t Hana speak? Sometimes Beth wished she couldn’t speak—she often got tongue-tied or said the wrong thing, just as she had earlier.
But she could speak and so she usually felt pressured to perform, to interact and communicate in the same way others did.
She thought back to the day she’d met Noah, how she hadn’t been able to joke and laugh and banter in the same way as he and Ellie had done.
She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the memory of that moment and how she’d spiralled into a dark place of shame and self-loathing afterwards.
And then she thought about how disgustingly self-centred she was being—here was someone who literally couldn’t speak, who’d probably wished a million times that they could speak, yet Beth was sitting here envying them?
Just as Beth managed to get herself under control, thinking she’d done a good job of hiding the depressing and self-judgemental turn her thoughts had taken, Hana reached out, put a hand on Beth’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
Such a kind gesture did not bode well for Beth as she fought to keep her emotions in check.
Also, how’d Hana get to be so perceptive?
‘I’m sorry,’ Beth said, laughing awkwardly even as her eyes welled. ‘You must think I’m weird.’
Hana studied Beth closely, their expression a mixture of concern and curiosity, but then took their pencil and jotted down a few more words before handing over the notepad.
I could say the same. They cocked an eyebrow and gave Beth a meaningful look, as if to say, Are you kidding? I’m the one writing in a notebook!
Beth laughed again, this time with genuine amusement, and Hana grinned widely.
In that moment, something passed between them, an odd yet powerful connection. Beth couldn’t quite figure out why, or what it was, but she felt it all the same.
‘Ooh, a joke?’ Carmen clapped her hands. ‘What are you two laughing about?’
Hana looked at Beth, and Beth looked at Hana—as if they each expected the other to answer.
Given Hana’s predicament, Beth knew she should step up and explain, only she couldn’t because everyone was now looking at her.
Besides, she didn’t think she could even articulate what she and Hana were laughing at anyway.
Beth pressed her lips together, still amused but trying to contain it, and threw a helpless look at Hana, who was clearly thinking something similar—conversationalists, the both of them—because a moment later, they snorted, causing Beth to dissolve into a fit of giggles.
Carmen was still eager to join in the fun, but Flo talked her down—‘Let them have their joke, Car,’—and then proceeded to share her theory about how Lan always managed to get the pork crackling so crispy.
With the others once again distracted, Beth pinched the pencil from Hana and wrote a message of her own. I have to get back to work, but thank you for our chat.
Hana looked as if their heart was melting when they read it. It was my pleasure. I hope we can do it again sometime.
‘I’d love that,’ Beth said. ‘Maybe you can give me some tips on how to draw? I’ve always wanted to learn.’
Hana nodded eagerly and the two of them made plans to meet up in a few weeks.
Beth was still smiling when she got back to the B&B after her shift.
* * *
‘Are you sure it’s okay for me to come, too?’ Ellie asked Beth as they left the B&B.
‘Yeah, of course. Marge said I could bring a friend.’