6. Zara
ZARA
“Put down the weapon,” Noah commands in a tone I’m not used to from him. He’s usually smiling adoringly at his girlfriend, Avery. He’s normally friendly and easygoing. None of that describes the police officer standing inside Picnic & Treats, his gun pointed at the drunk, hell-raising father.
From my vantage spot on the floor, half-covered by the table I’m hiding under, I scan the area, making sure everyone seems to be okay. We’re crouched under the tables, and I’m praying this will all end soon, preferably with no bloodshed.
Shards of what was once a ceramic vase lie a few feet from me, the tulips broken and torn.
The man lets go of the broken piece of chair in his hand. It lands in front of me with a bang , and I jolt as if hit by lightning.
My heart rate eases off the gas pedal, and I blow out a hard breath. I’m alive. I’m alive and unhurt. As is everyone else, which is more important.
Slowly inhaling and exhaling, I give myself several seconds to recover from the shock and uncertainty of the last five minutes. Then I stagger to my feet as the other officer handcuffs the man.
I walk to Noah, my legs shaky from the adrenaline aftermath, and proceed to tell him what happened. “I need to check on Jess,” I say once I’m finished. “She was in the kitchen when the man started causing trouble. I don’t know how much she witnessed.”
Noah is fully aware of her past. “Go ahead. I’ll be out here, speaking with the other witnesses, if you need anything.”
I turn to leave but pause. “What about the girl? Sarah? I have a feeling it’s not the first time she’s dealt with him like that. And her mother…what about her?” Her mother could be like Jess once was—trapped in an abusive marriage.
“That will be part of our investigation. We’ll do what we can to make sure all parties are safe.”
From what Jess told me about her past, “do what we can” often doesn’t mean much. If the wife chooses not to press charges, there’s not much the police can do about the home situation.
I hurry toward the kitchen, checking on each of my customers on the way, seeing if they need anything. Some had left after talking to Noah and Officer Hunter. The remaining customers are sharing notes as to what happened.
The rain outside the windows has slowed to a light shower, as if relieved the nightmare is over, and the weather is shedding a few tears for Sarah and her family. For all those impacted by what happened. For Jess.
Mrs. Seger gives me a hug. “How are you doing, Zara? You were so brave, standing up to that man.”
I smile at the woman who recently retired from teaching high school math. “I’m not so sure about being brave.”
“You definitely were,” her friend says, her hair covered under a coral hijab.
“Thank you.”
I grab the broom and dustpan, sweep up the broken vase, and toss the damaged tulips into the compost bin.
Keshia and Anastasia are at the counter, talking, as I approach. Anastasia is pouring hot water into a tea pot. Steam unfurls from the ceramic container.
“Did Jess see any of that?” I ask.
Anastasia puts the pot onto a tray. “She did. She came out of the kitchen at the same time we did and is pretty shaken. She’s in the staff room with Troy.”
“She called him?” The dull ache in my shoulders has intensified over the last few minutes, and the base of my spine, my hips, and my knees aren’t fairing much better.
“No, I texted him,” Keshia replies. “Like he asked me to do if Jess has a flashback at work.”
Of course, he did. He’d asked me to do the same when Jess returned to work part time at P&T. I should’ve known he would make the same request to the rest of the staff.
“I’m going to check on her. Could you two get everyone anything they need—on the house?” Still lightly massaging my shoulder, I walk down the hallway to the staff room. At the doorway, I stop kneading the muscle and stride into the room.
Jess and Troy are sitting on the couch. Troy’s talking to her in a low, soothing voice, one hand on the curve of her spine. The other is holding her hand. Bailey, Jess’s golden retriever, is lying on the floor by her feet. She has on her Service Dog in Training vest, indicating she’s on duty.
Jess smiles softly at Troy, and my insides go unexpectedly warm. I don’t remember having a boyfriend as attentive as Troy is with Jess. They are the perfect couple, so sweet and loving after all they’ve been through, together and separately.
They gaze lovingly at each other, and a small amount of jealousy for what they share wiggles into my belly. There’s a silent communication between them, as history has taught me well, that often shortly proceeds Troy and Jess kissing.
I clear my throat, causing them to tear their gazes from each other. “Sorry to interrupt. I wanted to make sure you’re okay, Jess.”
Her smile returns, brighter this time. “I am.”
Troy opens his mouth to speak, but Jess’s hand squeezes his thigh, and his mouth snaps shut, trapping whatever he was going to say.
She snuggles farther into Troy’s side. “What about you? You were the one risking your life.”
I scoff out a half laugh. “I would hardly call what I did risking my life.” Hopefully she didn’t catch everything that went down…specifically the part where the man broke the chair. “Is there anything I can get you?”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks.”
“I’m taking her home, if that’s okay with you?” Troy’s tone carries a featherlight warning. He plans to take Jess home early, no matter what I have to say.
“I was going to suggest she bails as soon as she has her legs back under her. I’ve got everything under control. And if you need a few days off,” I tell Jess, “that’s fine too.” She’s scheduled tomorrow, but I’ll come in early to cover her shift.
Relief smooths out Troy’s brow. “Thanks, Z.”
I walk over to my friend and hug her. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Have fun on your date tonight.” She flashes me an easy smile. “Make sure Joseph takes good care of you.” Her eyes flick to Troy for a fleeting moment, her message clear: Make sure your boyfriend takes good care of you the way Troy takes care of me.
Lord, I’d forgotten about my date. Do I even want to go anymore after what happened?
The rest of the afternoon is a whirlwind of activity. I barely have a second to catch my breath.
“Do you have everything you need?” I ask Anastasia at the end of my shift. She and Clara are here until closing.
“I do. Have a good night with your man.”
“Thanks.” I decided two hours ago that a date with my boyfriend is exactly what I need after the day I’ve had.
My eyes jerk to where the drama occurred several hours ago.
To the empty spot where the broken chair once stood.
I’ll need to find a replacement for it. ASAP.
I’m hoping to expand Picnic & Treats—not lose available seating.
It helps the chair wasn’t part of a matched set. That’s one advantage of P&T’s eclectic aesthetic. I found most of the furniture at garage sales and in flea markets. I then sanded and whitewashed the individual pieces.
There’s so much to do between cleaning up this mess—and thinking about the expansion, if I want to make it happen.
And I do .
I grab my things from the staff room and change into my bootie-hugging jeans, tank top, and cardigan.
Sabrina is at the counter, assisting a customer, when I walk into Mountain Lore.
I casually study the space, as if I’m not drooling over the possibility of it one day being part of Picnic & Treats.
The interior is dark, a contrast to the café’s light and airy feel.
I wander through the store, checking out the merchandise. Sabrina approaches several minutes later as I’m examining a jar of preserves from a local small business.
“Hi, Zara. I heard about what happened earlier next door. How are you doing?” Her mouth tilts up, but it’s worry that reaches her eyes and not her smile.
“Better now.” I return the smile, mine a lot brighter. “Jess mentioned you’re planning to move to Texas.”
“That’s right.” Excitement slips into her voice. “I figured now’s a good time to retire and be closer to my grandbabies. They’ll only stay little for so long. I’m in the process of selling the business to a couple of sisters.”
“That’s great.” I infuse my tone with a happiness I don’t entirely feel. I’m happy for her, since this is what she wants. But I guess it means I won’t be expanding Picnic & Treats after all.
“It is. They’re just deciding if they’re going to keep the business in Maple Ridge or move it to Spring Falls, where they live.”
Hope pops up its head, but I keep it reined in. The emotion has burned me on more than one occasion. “They might move the business?” The space next door to P&T might be up for lease?
“The last I heard, they’re figuring out the numbers and pros and cons of staying here versus moving it to their town. They’ve got a month to make a decision.” Sabrina is practically vibrating with joy, her smile wide.
The sun is low in the sky, casting long shadows on the quiet sidewalk as I walk to my car. The soothing pine-scented breeze clears my head of what happened a few hours ago.
Call him now.
The silent words float on the breeze, insistent. Nudging. Powerful.
Why wait for the future when the moment is in front of you, biding time until you grasp hold of it? Mimi’s favorite saying .
She didn’t believe in procrastination. She felt it was nothing more than fear of facing the unknown. A wilted excuse.
I dial Mr. Cartwright’s number. The least I could do is tell him I’m interested in taking over the lease should the sisters choose to move Mountain Lore elsewhere.
The line rings several times before he picks up. “Hello?” The voice of my fourth and fifth grade teacher has the low, gruff edge I’ve known most of my life. He was the man who got me excited about science. He wasn’t the teacher who taught me to believe in myself, but pretty damn close.
“Hello, Mr. Cartwright. It’s Zara Thompson.”
“Hello, Zara.” The gruff tone switches to his exuberant voice that he used for all things science. “What can I do for you this fine evening?”
“Sabrina Duncan mentioned she’s selling Mountain Lore. And the new owners might not be taking over her lease.”
“That’s right. I’m waiting to hear back from them on their decision.”
“Do you have anyone else interested in the property?”
“Not yet. I haven’t told anyone the property might be available. I’m waiting to see what the sisters decide. Why? You know someone who wants to lease it?”
I click on the key fob, unlocking my car door. “Yes. Me. I’ve been thinking about expanding Picnic & Treats. I only found out this afternoon Sabrina is selling her business, so I haven’t looked into the numbers yet. But I’m interested in talking to you about the possibility.”
“How ’bout you look into the numbers. Create a proposal. And we can discuss it in a few days.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that.”
An Out of Order sign that wasn’t there this morning now glares at me from the closed elevator door of my apartment building. Great . Not at all what I needed or expected.
Wishing the day hadn’t been quite so prickly, I trudge up the four flights of stairs to my floor and walk down the nondescript hall to my apartment. The steady ache in my joints slows my pace.
I enter the apartment and flick on the light. The warm glow highlights the series of framed photos on the wall, taken by my super-sweet, super-talented sister-in-law, Kim.
Most of them are nature photos of the area. But my favorite one was taken at Windermere Lake, just outside of town. I was standing in the water, wearing a simple black bikini, streaks of gold paint adorning my body.
Golden Girl.
The second Garrett saw the photo, his nickname for me stuck. It’s the name he likes to tease me with.
But in that brief moment, when he’d first called me Golden Girl, I’d felt special. Seen.
Like he finally saw me as something more than just his close friend.
From my bedroom closet, I remove my black silk pantsuit. Paired with my black silk camisole, the outfit is the essence of sexy. Perfect for seducing my boyfriend into taking our relationship to the next level.
I grab a pair of lacy black panties and a bra from my dresser. In the bathroom, I hang the clothes on the back of the door and run water into the bath. The sweet scent of jasmine fills the room.
The opening bars of “Listen” float from the small speakers on the counter, and I step into the tub. The hot water laps over my calf muscles, and I sink into the scented water.
Beyoncé’s strong, energized voice wraps me in bliss, and I recline on the gentle slope of the tub, my eyes closing. Heat soaks into my body, easing the unrelenting ache in my hips and shoulders. The unrelenting ache that worsened following the afternoon I had.
Exhaustion ripples through me, taking me deeper and deeper into a dreamlike state. But I know I’m awake. Beyoncé’s voice still echoes off the bathroom tiles.
My thoughts drift to my conversation this afternoon with Keshia. About Garrett and Joseph. About how Joseph is boring.
He’s not boring. He’s just enthusiastic about numbers. As a small-business owner, it’s something I can appreciate .
With his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and short black hair, he’s a fine specimen of a man. A man who I hope will make me feel equally fine between the sheets tonight.
The image of Garrett pops into my head. His shoulders are slightly broader than Joseph’s, and he stands a few inches taller. His lightly tanned skin will darken during the summer—mostly from running shirtless with Kellan.
No, no, no, no. Stop thinking about Garrett. Think about your fine boyfriend.
The fine boyfriend I have a date with soon.