Chapter 40
Shay
I missed Aunt Paige. That was nothing new.
After she passed so many years ago, I wondered if it would ever get easier, missing a person.
I quickly learned that it didn’t. Grief didn’t get easier; it just got quiet.
It whispered in the oddest moments of life.
Like when I saw a cute dog that I knew Aunt Paige would’ve stopped to pet.
Or when I saw an artist’s painting. Or when something great happened.
Or something wild, like Landon popping back up into my life after all this time.
I never forgot the advice she gave me when I was younger: “Lead with your heart, but take your brain with you.” I tried my best to keep a balance between both my heart and my brain, but it seemed that over time, it was my heart that got quieter.
Was it still beating? Yes. But it definitely wasn’t beating to its full potential.
Aunt Paige would’ve been sad about that.
She would’ve wished that I still loved a little more freely, but love wasn’t free.
It came with a heartbreak tax that I wasn’t sure I was willing to pay anymore.
But what did I know? Life was confusing. There were many things that I didn’t understand yet, but I tried my best. I hoped Aunt Paige would be proud of me—even with all of life’s misdirection.
At least I could tell her that there were three things in life I knew to be absolutely true.
1. One could never eat too many croissants.
2. Rainy days were meant for oversized sweaters and oversized books.
3. Landon liked his coffee with one sugar and two creamers.
I only knew the last fact because he stood right there at the counter of Ava’s, ordering his coffee—one sugar, two creamers—with a croissant on the side.
“I think it’s funny that you work in a place with coffee even though you said you hated it the other day,” he commented. “Though it kind of makes sense, seeing as how you work around the stuff all day.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, feeling flustered as he stood in front of me, wearing a perfectly fitted peacoat and black jeans.
“I’m crossing paths with you.” He said all this with the goofiest smile, and I wanted to smack the smile from his face, but then again, Landon looked good with a smile.
No, screw that smile.
“Who told you I worked here?”
“Karla might’ve let it slip by mistake.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out cash to pay for his coffee. “I figured maybe we could have an easy talk during your break.”
“I don’t get a break for an hour.”
“That’s fine by me. I’ll wait.”
“Don’t bother. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“But you said if you saw me again, we’d have an easy conversation.”
“I said if we crossed paths, which means in an organic fashion. There is nothing organic about you figuring out where I work and showing up.”
“You didn’t make the organic part clear,” he mentioned. “Besides, I’m not big on organic things. Give me the pesticides, and I’m all over it.” He lifted his coffee cup and nodded in my direction. “I’m going to sit in that back corner in case you change your mind.”
“You’re going to be sitting for a while, so make sure to buy something else later on. There’s nothing worse than a person who sits in the coffee shop for hours and hours and only orders a one-dollar coffee.”
“Don’t worry.” He lifted a daily paper from the stack beside him and tucked it under his arm. “I have an endless addiction to coffee.”
As he spoke, people snapped pictures of him, reminding me once again that to me he was simply Landon, but to the rest of the world he was a star.
“Do you ever get sick of that?” I asked, nodding toward the individuals holding their cameras out.
“It’s a gift and a curse. I know I wouldn’t be able to live the life I do without them, but also I wish there was a way I could do what I love and still be anonymous.”
“Voice acting for the win.”
“I would’ve made a badass Shrek.” He nodded toward me. “Do you ever get sick of that?”
“Of what?”
“Pretending like you don’t want to at least have the conversation we should be having about us?”
It’s a gift and a curse.
“There is no us,” I told him.
“Come on, Chick,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “Just an easy conversation.”
Butterflies. A swarm of stupid butterflies that didn’t belong anywhere near my stomach. Why did I have butterflies from him calling me Chick?
“Go away, Landon.”
“As you wish.”
But he didn’t leave leave. He did exactly what he’d said he would do: He went and sat at a table, and he began studying his newspaper as cameras “sneakily” snapped photographs of him.
It was so odd seeing the fame side of his life.
It was strange seeing people you grew up with in a different type of light. Landon’s light was very much lime.
I went back to work, trying to shake off the idea of Landon sitting in the back of the shop. Wasn’t he a famous actor? Didn’t he have something better to do with his time?
It turned out he didn’t have better things to do. Landon showed up each day for his coffee, and he’d sit at the same table each time, waiting for the opportunity to hold an easy conversation with him.
I never gave in.
Still, he kept showing up each morning, and I kept thinking about him each night.