Chapter 18 Eva
Rain is pouring outside on this cold winter morning, forcing patrons to stay inside the café longer than usual.
I’m so ready for spring.
The dark clouds and sound of raindrops tapping against the glass windows do nothing to improve my already somber mood. It feels like this season has dragged on longer than usual, and I ache for the days when the sun kisses my pale skin.
Billie is busy waiting tables as I work the espresso machine behind the counter. We often swap, depending on how busy we are. Billie has the patience for customers, and I have the patience for what can often be a temperamental machine.
Our regulars sit at their usual tables, savoring their morning coffee and donuts. Then, there are the remote workers—laptops open, brows furrowed in concentration as they stretch a single coffee over three hours, monopolizing a full table. I can’t stand them.
Some are college students. They spend more on treats than the remote workers, even though most are cash poor. We often catch them taking pictures of their food and posting them to their socials while busying themselves on their phones over what I assume is meant to be a study period.
“That guy over there didn’t even want coffee,” Billie huffs, placing the tablet down on the counter beside me. “He wants fricking tap water.”
I shake my head, lips pressed together. “How do we bring in customers who actually want to eat? Maybe Maddy is right. I should look into hiring a marketing team or something.” I know signs about table occupancy are necessary, but the last thing I want is to drive people away. It feels like a no-win situation.
It’s not like the café isn’t doing well—we’re in the black. But we need something to boost profits. The locals love us, sure, but that only goes so far when the tourist season slows down. If I did want to open another café one day, we would need to bring in more business, not to mention more staff.
Billie shrugs. “Maybe some marketing might work… it’s just the winter lull. When spring is here, people start traveling through town again.”
My shoulders slump as I clean out the filter in the machine. Billie is an optimist, the exact opposite of me. I’m not sure when I became so cynical, or perhaps the appropriate word would be moody.
“You have a point.” I slip my hand into my pocket, fingers brushing against Aston’s keys. I pull them out, and immediately, Billie’s eyes catch the emblem on the key.
He hasn’t picked them up, called, or texted to ask for them back. I considered reaching out, but after last night, I don’t know what to think.
Things took a turn.
I wasn’t expecting to be pulled into their family drama; not only that, I wasn’t expecting to see this other side of Aston.
Something got into him, and it wasn’t pleasant.
He was angry and hurting over what can only be described as an argument with his father.
I wish he would have opened up to me, maybe he would have calmed down.
But the moment I offered to stay with him, he shut me out and that was that.
“Whoa, you have some explaining to do.” Billie’s eyes widen. “Did the hot older brother stay over? It’s his keys, right? Wait, what about the doctor? Are you playing the field?”
I try to hush her, since her voice travels and all the questions give me a headache . So does the lack of sex . “No. Nothing of the sort. It was a long night, and something happened, but it’s not what you think.”
“Okay, sure. So, I should ignore what I think?”
“Yes! We did not have sex.”
“With who, though?”
“With Aston!” I yell out unexpectedly.
A few people turn, forcing me to smile and pretend I didn’t yell out my best friend’s older brother’s name. “Look, there’s a lot at stake. So it wouldn’t be a good idea even if I wanted to, which I don’t. You don’t mix best friends and their older brothers with pleasure.”
Billie removes a plate from the stack of clean ones to serve three jelly-filled sugarcoated donuts to table five. “He certainly seems to rile a reaction from you.”
“He does,” I admit, remembering our encounter in the bathroom. “But, we’re all adults. Once this wedding ends, he’ll be long gone back to the city, and I’ll be here.”
“With the hot doctor…” Billie trails off with a knowing grin.
Right on cue, Maddy walks in, looking a bit frazzled. “Aston sent me to pick up his keys for him,” she says, barely meeting my gaze.
I hand her the keys, noticing her tension. “You all right?”
She lets out a sigh, fiddling with the key ring. “I’m fine. Just… meeting Georgina for tea. Again .”
I raise an eyebrow, unable to hide a smirk. “A tea party? Who are you, Alice in Wonderland ? Isn’t that her second one this week?”
“Third, and the Mad Hatter at this point,” Maddy mutters, rolling her eyes. “She’s gone full mother-of-the-groom mode. Myles is her only kid, and she’s milking it for all it’s worth.”
I chuckle. “And you’re the perfect future daughter-in-law, smiling through it all.”
Maddy laughs, but there’s a weariness in it. “I try, but she’s pushing every button. I mean, who needs three tea parties to plan a wedding?”
“Maybe she’s just excited.” I try to keep a straight face, but Maddy sees right through me.
“Excited? Excited? Eva, she has this massive binder for table placements alone.”
“Sounds like you’re in for quite the ride,” I say, shaking my head. “If you need a break, you know where to find me.”
“Trust me, I’ll take you up on that.” She sighs, clutching Aston’s keys like they’re the lifeline she really came for.
For the rest of the week, I busy myself with wedding preparations.
The flowers take forever, but I manage to order everything from the bouquets to the arrangements for the ceremony and reception.
Billie offered to bake the cake, and given that she’s great with desserts, I took her up on the offer with Maddy’s approval.
Then, the pastry chef at the Grand Honey Lodge insisted he bake the cake and threw a tantrum when Maddy mentioned Billie making the cake.
What we both didn’t know was that Georgina had already discussed it with him.
Honestly, it wasn’t worth the stress, so I encouraged Maddy to just let him do it to avoid any further conflict.
Now, with those details sorted, the next major item on the list is dress shopping—a task I dread more than anything.
It’s not that I dislike wearing a dress—it’s just that once I find one, I prefer to stick to it.
The thought of trying on endless gowns and parading in front of others under the unforgiving lights of a dress shop makes me want to crawl into a hole and hibernate until it’s all over.
But Maddy is my best friend, and as her maid of honor, I need to be present with a smile on my face.
The wedding dress shop is about forty-five minutes away, two towns over. It’s owned by a friend of Georgina’s—apparently, they’re bridge partners. Of course, that connection only adds another layer of pressure to this whole dress-shopping ordeal.
We take a seat on the white bouclé sofas as an assistant serves us champagne. Aside from Georgina and Patricia, two of Myles’s cousins join us. One of them being Ramona.
The owner, Helena, takes dresses to the back changing room for Maddy to try on. I know exactly what she wants and doesn’t want, so hopefully, she will find the dress here because I have checked, and Helena can make alterations, even given the short notice.
We chat among ourselves, mainly about dresses and fabrics. It’s all civil until Georgina, out of nowhere, says, “So, Patricia, I hear your son is single. Quite the handsome boy.”
“I’m not quite sure, Georgina. My son likes to keep his private life private.”
I pretend to be busy on my phone but listen attentively to this conversation. Considering I haven’t heard from Aston for almost a week, I’d also like to know what’s going on.
“Ramona, dear,” Georgina calls out softly. “Perhaps the two of you should have dinner. You’re not getting any younger, my love.”
Ramona flattens her lips, then sighs. “I could reach out, I guess.”
“Why not do it now?” I say loudly, the sarcasm lingering in the air. “I’m sure he will agree to dinner. He is single and ready to mingle.”
I don’t know where that came from, but I want her to text him to see if he responds.
“You think I should do it now?” Ramona asks, reluctance clear in her voice. Her fingers fidget with the edge of her sleeve, twisting the fabric nervously. “At the lunch, he seemed preoccupied.”
“Seize the day,” I tell her before releasing a breath. “If you’re nervous, I’ll do it for you. Pass me your phone.”
Surprisingly, Ramona hands me her phone. Quickly, I type a message but realize that if I want him to respond, it can’t be too needy, or he’ll get spooked. It’s not like I want him to go on a date with Ramona. Actually, that thought makes my stomach turn.
But I commit to the damn challenge like a child.
“How about this…” I announce while typing. “Hey, would you like to catch up for dinner or drinks? Myles’s mother suggested I text you. Kisses, Ramona.”
“ Kisses? Don’t you think that’s a bit… forward ?”
I shake my head. “Forward is you wanting to go home with him at lunch last week. This is fine.”
Ramona’s eyes widen, but no one else appears to hear as the curtain to the dressing room opens. Maddy carefully walks out in a sweetheart pleated-satin corset dress with a chapel train.
“Oh, Maddy,” I gush, choking on my words. “You look stunning.”
Patricia nods with approval, but Georgina looks less than pleased.
“Maddy, darling. Wouldn’t a covered neckline be more appropriate?”
Maddy glances at me, pleading with her eyes for me to say something.
I stand, fixing the skirt, and say, “I think this dress is beautiful. After all, Maddy is the bride, so the decision is all hers.”
Patricia tilts her head but remains quiet, observing her daughter. “You look gorgeous. However, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try on something with a covered neckline. A bit of lace can look elegant.”