Chapter 8
Violet
Adrian and I have survived our second week of living in Honey Springs. I am relieved that Adrian is happy with his school and his friends. He loves getting to play soccer and is excited to go to school every morning, what more can a mom ask for?
“Adrian, did you brush your teeth?”
He has the habit of not brushing his teeth, and I have to constantly remind him.
“Bruh, you know I like to eat first, then brush my teeth,” he replies.
I take a deep breath. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop with the 'bruh'? I’m sick and tired of reminding you. Besides, if you don’t want me to harp on you about brushing your teeth, you should do it every day. In fact, you should do it twice a day, without me telling you anything.”
Adrian lets out an exaggerated sigh, as if I’m the most inconvenient person in his life. “Mom, I will brush my teeth. As soon as I’m done with my breakfast, I’ll go and clean myself up. Please stop reminding me. I know what I have to do.”
I raise an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smirk. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll stop. But just so you know, I’ll be paying very close attention. If I see you slacking and not doing it without my encouragement, we’ll have a real problem, mister. You got me, bruh ?”
Adrian rolls his eyes in that dramatic way only preteens can, but a small smile tugs at his lips. “Yes, Mom, I got you.”
We finish getting ready for the day, moving through our usual morning routine. Just as I’m about to grab my bag, Adrian comes charging toward me like a bull, his grin wide and mischievous. Before I can react, he leans in close and blows a gust of minty breath directly into my face.
“See? I told you I was gonna brush my teeth,” he says triumphantly.
I lean back, laughing, and try to push him away. “Okay, okay! I get it. You win. Now get off of me.”
But Adrian isn’t letting go that easily. “But I love you, Mom,” he says with a cheeky grin, and then proceeds to smother me with kisses all over my face.
“Adrian! Stop! You’re too heavy!” I gasp, struggling under his growing weight. At twelve, he’s more like a gangly octopus than a little boy, all arms and legs wrapped around me. His laughter fills the room as I wriggle and try to pry him off.
“I love you too, but let me breathe, for goodness sake!” I say, half-laughing, half-exasperated as I try to peel his arms from my neck.
“Never!” he declares dramatically, holding on tighter for a second before finally letting go with one last kiss on my forehead.
As I catch my breath, I shake my head at him. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Adrian grins, grabbing his backpack. “I know, Mom. I know.”
And just like that, the chaos is over, replaced by that quiet warmth only moments like this can bring. Being his mom might sometimes feel like wrestling an octopus, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Thirty minutes later, I drop Adrian off at school before heading to Josy’s Sweet Shop and the morning rush is in full swing when I arrive. I quickly put on my apron and get to work, greeting customers and taking orders. Every morning, we have a few customers who are loyal to Josy’s coffee, and I am learning their names slowly but surely. I don’t know why, but I am horrible with names. I forget them so easily, and I hate that I always do. But I don’t forget faces, so I guess that’s a plus for me.
Today, Mr. and Mrs. Baker are here. I know their names by heart, partly because theirs are easy to remember. Mr. Baker is a handyman, and from what I gather, he is a great one. He’s in his late thirties or early forties, a handsome man with bright blue eyes, thick black hair, and a nice smile. Mrs. Baker is a school teacher, also beautiful with short red hair, big green eyes, and killer dimples—a gorgeous woman, in my opinion. They have two kids; their youngest is in the same class as Adrian. She is adorable. Adrian told me that she is one of his new friends.
“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Baker. How are you?” I ask.
“Please, call us by our first names. You make us feel old,” Mrs. Baker says.
“I’m sorry. I’m just really bad with names, and your last name is easier to remember,” I say.
“Well, I am Miriam, and my husband is John. I will start bringing name tags just for you,” she says with a chuckle.
I laugh at her comment. Miriam is very cool, and she always comes with a big smile on her face.
“Now, what can I get you, Miriam and John?” I ask, emphasizing both of their names.
“I’m in a hurry. School starts soon, and I was late today getting the kids ready. I need my morning fix,” Miriam replies with a hint of urgency in her voice.
“No problem. What would you like today?” I respond quickly.
“I’ll have my usual, a large cappuccino with an extra shot, and John will have a black coffee,” she says, glancing at John, who nods in agreement.
“Got it. Coming right up,” I say, moving efficiently to prepare their order.
As I work, I can’t help but feel a growing sense of community. I’m starting to recognize the regulars and learn a bit about their lives. It makes the job feel more personal and rewarding. I hand Miriam and John their coffees with a smile.
“Here you go. Have a great day!” I say cheerfully.
“Thanks, Violet. You too,” Miriam says.
“Miriam, don’t forget the name tags!” I say with a big smile.
“I won’t,” Miriam says, giving me a warm smile before rushing out the door with John in tow.
Josy gives me a thumbs up as I handle the coffee machine with confidence while staying on top of taking orders. She is happy with the progress I've made. My list of successful duties keeps growing: cleaning, working the register, chatting with customers, using the fancy coffee machine, and no burnt pastries. I finally feel I am getting the hang of this! Even Edna is pleased with me and the little help I can provide. Today, I'll start working on Josy’s Sweet Shop social media.
When the morning rush is over, I go over to Josy and greet her with a smile.
“What’s up?” I say when the rush is over.
“Nothing. Ready to start creating social media content?” Josy replies cheerfully.
“Absolutely. I’m excited to start working on that,” I tell her.
Josy nods approvingly. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve been meaning to give our online presence a boost. I know you’ll do a great job.”
Edna peeks out from the kitchen, giving me a nod of approval. “You’re doing well, kid. Keep it up,” she says gruffly, but I can see the warmth in her eyes.
“Thanks, Edna,” I reply, feeling a sense of accomplishment.
I pull out my laptop and go and sit on one of the comfy couches. Josy sits beside me, and we discuss our social media strategy. We brainstorm ideas for posts, promotions, and engagement with our customers.
“We should showcase our best-selling pastries and highlight any special events or seasonal items,” Josy suggests.
“Definitely. And maybe we can start a weekly feature where we introduce one of our staff members or share a fun fact about the shop,” I add, jotting down notes.
Josy smiles. “I love it. Let’s get started.”
I spend the next few hours creating content, taking photos of the delicious pastries and beautifully crafted coffee drinks. I draft posts that capture the cozy, welcoming atmosphere of the shop and highlight our unique offerings.
As I work, my attention drifts to the door as Austin walks in. He catches my eye and gives me a friendly wave, his smile warm and familiar.
Austin is one of our regulars, though he usually comes in much earlier. The rough five-o’clock shadow is a clear sign that he’s running late today. Normally, he’s clean-shaven, always sharp and polished. But today, the scruff gives him an edgier look, and I can’t help but admit that I like it.
Every time he steps through the door, there's an unmistakable pull, a magnetic force. As he approaches the counter, I catch a whiff of his cologne, and I close my eyes for a brief second, letting the earthy scent wash over me. It’s deep, warm like a mix of wood and spice, something rich and grounding. The scent lingers in the air, and all I want to do is lean in closer, breathe him in, and savor the feeling of being near him.
Stop it, Violet, don’t check out the customers . Also, he is WAY out of your league. Dream on, sister.
“Morning, Violet,” he says as he approaches the counter. I close my laptop and walk toward the counter to take his order since Josy is in the back working on paperwork.
“Morning, Austin. The usual?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
“You know me well,” he replies with a grin.
I prepare his coffee and sandwich, and then handed them over with a smile. “Here you go. Enjoy.”
“Thanks. How’s your first week going? ” he asks, leaning over the counter as he takes his stuff.
“It’s been great. I’m starting to get the hang of things. Today, I’m working on the shop’s social media,” I tell him.
“That sounds exciting. I’ll have to follow you guys online,” he says, his eyes twinkling.
“We’d love that,” I reply, feeling a warm blush spread across my cheeks.
“You will see a lot of changes starting today. Josy is giving me creative authority to update all social media platforms,” I say, beaming with excitement. For many people, working on social media can be a nuisance, but for me, it’s exciting. I love all aspects of marketing and this is my first try dusting off my unused skill since Adrian was born.
“That’s fantastic, I know you will do a great job,” Austin says with a wink. Goodness, he has such clear green eyes.
“Thanks. I appreciate that. By the way, I hope you’re having a great day.”
“It’s much better now,” Austin says as he lifts his coffee in cheers. “Well, off I go. See you again tomorrow?”
I nod. “Yes! See you tomorrow.”
After he is gone, I start to think about his parting words. What did he mean by his day is much better now? He can’t be referring to me, right? A man like him would never set his eyes on a woman like me. I am not pretty; I am what people consider thick—also known as fat. I have cellulite on my thighs and stretch marks on my breast and lower stomach.
Or maybe he was referring to the coffee and food that I just served him. If my ex-husband didn’t want me because of all my flaws, why would a complete stranger?
These thoughts swirl in my head, causing a mix of emotions. I know I shouldn’t be so hard on myself, but it’s difficult not to compare. Maybe Austin is just being kind. Or maybe he really does find me interesting. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I need to focus on my work and not get distracted by the what-ifs and my insecurities.
A few minutes later, Josy stands next to me and leans over. “Um, hello. Did you not notice that Austin was checking you out?”
I look at Josy, completely perplexed. “What? Of course not. Why would you say that?” I ask her. She is crazy if she thinks that Austin was checking me out.
“Girl, that man has been checking you out every day. I can’t believe that you haven’t noticed,” Josy says with disbelief.
“I haven’t noticed, because it’s not true,” I say. I really haven’t noticed at all. I’ve been too busy with my life. I haven’t had the time to think about a man. I only have time for my son and my work.
Josy rolls her eyes dramatically. “Violet, you need to start paying more attention. Austin isn’t just being friendly, he’s interested in you. Trust me, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
I laugh nervously. “I think you’re imagining things, Josy. He’s just a nice guy.”
“Nice guys don’t stare at women like they’re the only ones in the room,” Josy counters. “I’ve seen that look before, and he definitely has it for you. Besides, he doesn’t look at me the same way as he is looking at you.”
I want to believe her, but it’s hard. After everything I’ve been through, it’s difficult to imagine a man like Austin being attracted to me. “Maybe he’s just being polite,” I say, trying to brush off her words.
Josy shakes her head. “You’re selling yourself short, Violet. You’re beautiful, kind, and hardworking. Any man would be lucky to have you.” Her words are like a balm to my soul. After so many years of feeling inferior and ugly. Having someone say those kind words to me makes me feel so much better. Even if those words are coming from my best friend.
“You really think so? Because I can’t take Taylor’s words out of my head.”
“I’m being completely honest, babe. You know what I think you should consider?”
“What?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“You should make an appointment with my therapist,” Josy says gently, her voice steady but laced with genuine concern. “She’s amazing, and she helped me process the loss of my grandparents. I bet you anything that if you go, you’re going to feel better.”
Her words hit me harder than I expect. I remember when her grandparents passed away—it wrecked her. Josy was devastated, like the light had been dimmed inside her, and for a long time, she couldn’t find her way out of the grief. I encouraged her to seek professional help back then, even though I wasn’t sure if she’d actually go through with it. But she did. And seeing the difference it made in her… Well, she found her footing again, step by step, until she was steady and strong once more.
Now, years later, Josy is in such a better place. She talks about her grandparents with a smile instead of tears. She celebrates their memory instead of being crushed by the weight of their absence. I’m proud of her for taking that step when she needed to, but now that she’s suggesting it for me, I feel…conflicted.
Do I really need help? Do I need that kind of help?
I glance at her, her brown eyes warm with sincerity, and a small part of me wonders if she’s right. But another part—the stubborn part—digs its heels further into my brain. I don’t know if I’m ready to open that door, to unpack the mess I’ve been shoving aside for who knows how long.
Still, the way Josy is looking at me, like she genuinely believes this could help, makes me pause.
“I don’t know, Josy,” I say with hesitation. Do I really need help from a professional? The thought makes me uneasy, but deep down, I know she might be right. Surely the therapist has clients with much more pressing matters than my insecurities. Don’t all girls have them?
Josy gives me an encouraging look. “Just think about it. Sometimes it helps to talk to someone who can give you a new perspective.”
I smile at her, feeling a bit more hopeful. “Thanks, Josy. I appreciate it. Maybe I’ll try to pay more attention from now on.”
“Good,” Josy says with a grin. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to have to start playing matchmaker and you know that I’m relentless.”
We both laugh, and I feel a little lighter. Maybe Josy is right. Maybe Austin does find me attractive. It’s a nice thought, even if I’m not quite ready to believe it yet. And maybe, talking to someone could help me see myself the way others do.
As I continue working, I try to focus on the positive. Adrian is thriving in school, I’m getting better at my job, and I have a supportive friend in Josy. Even if it takes time, I know I’m moving in the right direction.
At the end of my shift, I find a note on my windshield. I reach for it and read it.
“I think that you are the most gorgeous woman that I have ever met.”
Who would have written this? I rack my brain thinking of all the customers we had today, but the only person that comes to mind is Austin. Surely he wouldn’t do this, especially not for me. I set the note aside, start my car, and head to pick up Adrian. I have to get my mind off of this note, so I crank up the music.