10 Lattes
THE COFFEE SHOP WAS THRIVING. James’s new accounting system was working; we knew exactly what we were selling, what was profitable and what wasn’t.
And the seasonal specials I’d suggested (gingerbread cocoa, maple pecan muffins, pumpkin spice everything) were flying off the shelves.
For the first time since Geoff broke his leg, the books were actually in the black.
Occasionally—very occasionally—I even heard James say that something was on the house.
I guess his dad had been there inside him all along.
And we even had some new regulars. Alfie Carmichael’s brother, Theo, who’d moved to town late summer, came in most mornings, ordered black coffee, and hunched over a sketchbook full of buildings. Jo told me he was studying architecture and staying with his brother for the foreseeable future.
Geoff and Lana would come in every Friday morning to see how things were going.
Geoff’s leg was healing, but slowly, so he was still in the cast. Every week, without fail, he’d tap it and say, “When I get this thing off, we’ll need to talk about making you two official partners.
You’ve done such a great job.” Lana always made a point of hugging me and whispering, “You’re so good for him,” when James wasn’t looking.
November was a blur. A happy, perfect, warm and cozy blur.
James and I were practically inseparable.
We met up every morning at the coffee shop, before opening, and James would always be there waiting at our table with a gingerbread cocoa ready in my mug.
We watched the fireworks together on Bonfire Night, standing so close I could feel his heartbeat.
But my favorite time of all was after closing. When everyone went home and the streets were empty. That was when we went into the tiny house.
Tonight, James opened the door and I inhaled the now familiar smell of wood cuttings and his musky aftershave.
“Did you see the new shelves I put up?” he asked me. “I wanted somewhere to put a couple of special things I found.” He pointed opposite, where he’d placed a baseball on a little stand next to a photo—the one of us from the booth at Harvest Festival. I’d forgotten all about it.
I stood and walked over to the wall, running my finger across a shelf. “Hmm. Level. Sturdy. Good use of space.” Pop would be very impressed.
“Why, thank you.” James was sitting on the sofa now, hands behind his head, chest puffed out. Proud.
He got up and stood close to me as I picked up the photo, which perfectly captured our spontaneous moment of joy. We looked so happy then. I was so happy now. I squeezed his arm.
I picked up the baseball next. “But some of this décor is questionable …” I threw the ball in the air before catching it again.
My eyes found his as I held it up between us. “I mean, one random baseball? Kind of basic, don’t you think?”
James crossed his arms and scowled. “That’s not just any baseball.”
“Oh, really?” I asked, fighting a smile. I pretended to examine it. “Looks pretty ordinary to me.”
He took the ball from me, threw it onto the sofa, then lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and looked down at him. “Red. You know exactly what that is.”
I did. Of course I did. From that day at the Kissing Tree. My very first kiss.
He grinned before finding my mouth. Then he carried me into the section of the tiny house that was now his bedroom.
He laid me down on his bed and I breathed it all in. The sheets that smelled like laundry soap and James’s skin. I wanted to bathe in that scent so he’d never be far away.
I watched him undress and wondered, briefly, how April could have let this beautiful man get away.
He leaned over me, and I gripped his now bare biceps. I reached to the back of his head, pulling him close to me, desperate for another kiss, as if it hadn’t been just seconds since the last. But he went past my mouth and planted tiny kisses down my neck, making me groan with longing.
He took his time taking off my clothes. I loved that about him, that he did things properly. Deliberately. Tracing the hem of my sweater before peeling it over my head, his eyes never leaving mine.
“You’re beautiful, Red,” he whispered before finding my collarbone with his mouth. A surge of heat swelled low in my abdomen.
And then there were no more words. Just the two of us in the soft, yellow light, moving together like we were made to fit that way.
It was after sundown by the time I walked down Maple Street toward my own house.
Pop and Jo were sitting in front of the fire trying to decide what movie to watch.
“Any recommendations, Willa?” Jo asked. She had been here a lot recently—Pop and I were both enjoying our new fall relationships.
Jo filled the bathroom with this flowery scent, and made Pop laugh more than I’d ever heard him laugh.
She asked questions about Mom, and it was so nice to talk about her.
To tell someone new the same stories that Pop had been telling me my whole life.
“What are you in the mood for?” I asked. “Or should I say where are you in the mood for?”
“Oh, somewhere romantic.” Jo squeezed Pop’s hand and then kissed his cheek.
“Gross!” I joked.
Jo looked embarrassed. “Sorry, Willa. Maybe somewhere in Britain?”
“Hmmm.” I racked my brain. Then I chose Notting Hill for them. It was pretty old, but so were they …
“How’s the big decision coming along?” Pop asked.
“It’s coming …” I said. It wasn’t long until Thanksgiving, and I really had to make a call on this money. I mean, I was now in a place where I knew it would be crazy not to accept it, but I wanted to do it right. Make a perfect plan and follow it.
I left them to their movie, went into my room, sat on my bed, and picked up my notebook. I flipped through the pages, remembering all the cities around the world and the list of things I wanted to do in them.
How was I supposed to figure things out before next week? I picked up Mom’s notebook and whispered a silent prayer to the universe.
Tell me what to do, Mom …
And right then, I started believing in fate.
Took Willa to the Little Acorn today. She’s barely two but she already knows everyone’s names. Mrs. Porter, Geoff, Linda from Dr. Laurel’s office. I mean, I don’t want to use the word genius but … my little girl could actually be a genius.
Mike keeps saying we should take her to New York.
Show her the zoo, the museums, all the exciting places.
And we will. But I watched her today, sitting on Geoff’s counter eating a muffin, waving at every single person who walked in.
The way her whole face lit up when Mrs. Porter smiled at her.
It brought me so much joy I can’t even tell you.
Lisa May called tonight. She’s in Barcelona.
Says she found this amazing coffee shop overlooking the sea. Sent photos. It looks beautiful.
But all I could think was that Willa already has her coffee shop. The one where everyone knows her name. Where she belongs. I wonder if she’ll always need that. A place where she’s known. Or if she’s the kind of person who can find home wherever she goes.
Maybe that will be her gift.
And it was like Mom was there, pointing to a decision that I’d already made and didn’t even realize.
“Thank you, Mom,” I whispered, and drifted off into the most perfect sleep.
The next morning, I sent a message to James as soon as I woke up.
Me: Can we go for a walk?
James: This early??
Me: Or a run?
James: A walk …
Me: Baby!
James: I like that … honey
Me: Better get up if we’re going to be back in time for opening!
James: I’m up I’m up!
Me: Don’t lie
James: Fine, I’m up now …
James sent me a picture he’d taken in the mirror. Bed hair, boxers, mid-yawn.
Me: See you in ten ?
I put on my sweatpants and hoodie, tied up my hair, and jogged to James’s place.
He opened the door before I reached it and handed me a glass of water.
Then I grabbed his hand and pulled him outside into the milky blue dawn.
I hooked my arm through his and we walked through Oak Falls, to nowhere in particular.
“So why did you want to walk so bad? And so early?”
“Okay, well, I’ve kind of decided what I’m going to do about the money.” I shook my head. “Not kind of. I’ve decided.”
“Oh, really?” James’s hand tightened around mine.
“Well, I was looking through my travel journal last night.” I had to tell him everything. “And then I read some of my mom’s old notebook … and it was just like, really obvious. Like the answer was there in front of me the whole time.”
I realized we’d walked all the way to the apple orchard now. The sun was coming up, and golden hues spilled over the trees, making their leaves glow.
“Oh yeah?” James asked tentatively.
We kept walking through the orchard, soft, dew-covered grass underfoot, then up the hill, toward the Kissing Tree. Like we’d been brought here by some kind of bigger force.
“I can’t believe we almost lost it,” I whispered, my train of thought diverted for a moment.
“You’re killing me here. Tell me. Is this it? Are we done?” James looked at me with genuine fear in his eyes.
“I’m going traveling.” I blurted it out. I hadn’t meant to say it like that, with no explanation, but it just came out, and I watched the disappointment wash over him.
“That’s great, Willa,” he said sadly. Willa. Not Red. He rubbed his neck and turned away from me to look out over the trees.
“James …” I put my hand on his stubbled cheek. “No! That’s only part of it. You see, when I looked through my lists, I noticed that in every single city I wanted to see, I’ve written Go to a coffee shop.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Sorry. This is completely my fault. I had a whole proposition for you and everything, I even rehearsed it on the way over. Let me start again … James … I don’t want to go to college next year.
I want to stay and work in the coffee shop, and for you to make me … co-manager?” I smiled at him hopefully.
“Really?” The smile was slowly returning to his face.
“Really. The Little Acorn … it’s where I come alive. I’m good at the work. I love it. I’ve always loved it. Why would I ever want to leave? And now with you here? I know exactly where I need to be.”
James kissed the tip of my nose. “I’m not sure you’ll ever know how happy it makes me to hear you say that.”
“Hold that thought.” I held up a finger. “So. Like I was saying. I still want to go traveling. Just not all at once.”
“Okay …” James’s eyes were shining now, like he was just as excited for me as I was for myself.
“I want to use the money to go on research trips. I want to go to coffee shops in every city I visit, try the food, the drinks, take notes and pictures and bring it all back to Oak Falls. So it won’t just be the quaintness the tourists come here for, it’ll be for our international coffee shop!
Everyone will love it, tourists and locals too.
They can drink the drinks they love but with an Oak Falls twist!
” I couldn’t stop smiling. And I had to take a deep breath, because I clearly hadn’t bothered doing it while I was explaining and now I was dizzy.
“You’re sure this is really what you want? Truly? You’re not planning to run off to Rome with Penn State?”
“I’m sure. It was like I’d been writing the plan the whole time, without even realizing it. James, I can feel it in my bones.” I shuddered with joy. “And then you. You just sealed the deal.”
I put both my hands on James’s face and pulled him in to kiss me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me like he never wanted to let me go.
“Maybe you’d like some company on a couple of these trips?” he whispered when we broke apart.
“I would love that. And maybe we both can meet up with Carter for a cappuccino in Trastevere, or something.” I winked as I reached for James’s hands and squeezed them.
Pumped full of adrenaline, we sat down underneath the Kissing Tree, James’s arm around me and my head on his shoulder.
“Tell me some more,” he said.
“About what?”
“About each place you’re going to go to.”
“Okay. Paris, obviously. Montmartre. Drink hot chocolate and eat croissants. In Rome, I’d wanna go during the summer and drink caffè shakerato.
” James laughed at my terrible Italian accent.
“And eat maritozzi, and bruti ma buoni. Mumbai for masala chai. Thai iced tea in Bangkok, kopi in Singapore, and a flat white in Sydney. Did you know that Australia invented the flat white?”
“No, I did not. But it all sounds incredible. You amaze me, Red.”
Having him say things like this was not getting old.
“It does, doesn’t it? We’ll have the best of everything. We’ll see the world, then come back home.”
Home, I thought. “Oak Falls. It’s not a bad place to live, is it?” I sighed.
“I never thought I’d be saying this, but no, it’s really not,” James agreed.
We leaned into each other and looked out over the orchard as the sunrise bled into the morning sky under the Kissing Tree. Right where it all began.
“To avoid being accused of theft again, I’ll ask: May I please kiss you, Willa Taylor?” James’s brown eyes glowed in the soft sunlight.
“You may.”
So we kissed under the Kissing Tree, and carved our initials in a heart in the bark.
And now there was no doubt that no matter where I went, a piece of my heart would always be here. In Oak Falls.
Oak Falls never sleeps. Not really.
Yeah, the shops close up for the night. A few people lock their doors. Most don’t bother.
But the town itself? It keeps breathing.
The wind rustles through the oak trees on Main Street, and in the orchards on the edge of town, a white-tailed deer creeps through rows of apple trees. The owls call from the woods and the insects meet at the creek in hordes, drawn to the water in the cooling night.
And sometimes, a plane descends through the dark fall sky, lights blinking like stars as it touches down at an airport just outside town.
Sometimes, someone comes home.
And on nights like this, the town breathes a little deeper as it welcomes back one of its own …