Chapter 2
Ivy
Thursday afternoons were the worst. As bad as Monday mornings were, when everyone and their next-door neighbor’s cat needed a caffeine fix to kick-start their week (and help them recover from their weekend adventures), Thursday afternoons were even worse.
It was the point of the week where it wasn’t yet the weekend, though everyone was running out of steam, and needed all the caffeine pick-me-up they could handle. Ivy hated it.
A Cuppa Comfort had started as a coffee cart near her college dorm.
Ivy worked evenings and weekends throughout her first (and only) term.
Ten years later, she was now the manager of their flagship shop, with five more located across the city.
Next year, the plan was for her to open her own franchise location(thanks to Lucas, her best friend and the owner).
She’d now almost saved enough for the initial franchise fee.
“Double-Shot Americano, there you go Mollie,” she said, handing the takeaway coffee cup to one of her regulars.
Mollie took a sip immediately, handing over a fiver to Ivy. “Perfect, as always. See you tomorrow, Ivy.” Mollie waved over her shoulder as she left, and Ivy waved back before moving onto her next customer.
“Hi there, what Cuppa Comfort can I make for you this afternoon?” Ivy helped Lucas come up with their welcome message when they moved from the coffee cart into their first brick and mortar shop.
She worked through the next three customers before Oliver came back from his break to help clear the line of customers over the next 20 minutes.
Once the afternoon rush had calmed down, Ivy checked in with Oliver before heading to her office in the back to complete some paperwork.
She had two new weekend staff members to train over the next month.
They would be sent to other locations once their training was complete, and with that came lots of additional paperwork: personal information loaded into the payroll system, pre-booked annual leave noted in the schedule for the company overall, as well as specifically for the shop they’d be working in, and making sure they each received a copy of the company guidelines.
A new initiative Ivy had proposed to Lucas last year, which was finally due to roll out next month, was to offer staff the option to be certified baristas, and an option to do a separate latte art class.
The feedback from the staff was positive, with more than half of the staff wanting to do the full course, and most of them wanting to do the latte art class.
The two new staff members selected the coffee art class only, as being weekend staff they didn’t have the time to do the full certification course. As per the new onboarding procedure, this would be incorporated into their standard training for their new roles.
Ivy enjoyed this part of the job, and if she was honest with herself, she enjoyed every part of her job.
She rarely thought back to her time at college, but when the new college year began, and she had new weekend staff inductions to arrange, her mind wandered to her past. Mostly, she thought about how happy she was at work in comparison to the sheer dread she felt at the thought of attending any of her classes.
She thought about how freeing it has been when she switched from studies to working.
She didn’t allow herself to think about what else happened at that time.
She looked at the clock and noticed it was 5:25 p.m. She knew that in ten minutes, her day was about to get much brighter.
She finished what she was doing and made her way to the front shop, where there were still a few customers sitting on the window stools and scattered at tables.
Their chatter was soft and their warm laughter tinkled from the table in the far corner.
Ivy smiled at a group of three women who’d been sitting at the same table every Thursday afternoon for the past four years.
“Afternoon ladies,” Ivy waved as Margo, Liz, and Ella each waved back at her.
“She’s not due for another,” Oliver checked the coffee cup clock on the wall, “three minutes, Boss,” Oliver said with a smirk, making Ivy startle and blush.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ivy replied as she grabbed the cloth and sanitizer spray from behind the counter and made her way over to the empty tables, not convincing herself, never mind anyone else.
“Uh-huh,” Oliver rolled his eyes. “So, tell me, are you ever going to speak to her? At the very least, wave? I mean, this has gone on for years!”
“I will, someday, just not today.” Ivy got quieter with each word as she made her way over to the window, making sure to stay far enough back so as not to be seen from outside. She looked to her left and down the street towards the waterfront.
“Oh hun,” Ella said kindly from the corner, “there’s a difference between keeping your heart safe, and keeping it hidden.” She got up and walked over to Ivy who turned to face her. “You’re never going to heal if you never give yourself the chance to.”
Ivy turned back to the window just in time to see her walk past. Ivy was mesmerized by the woman who she’d watched pass by the shop at precisely this time, every weekday for three years.
Ivy could get lost in those green eyes, not to mention she’d give anything to run her fingers through that fiery red, perfect French braid.
She so wanted to see what the woman looked like with her hair hanging loose. For once.
By the time the woman had left Ivy’s sight, she turned back towards Ella and reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, “I’m fine. I promise. You worry too much,” Ivy lifted her head towards Margo and Liz. “You all do.”
She turned towards Oliver. “If you don’t mind, can you start cleaning down the machine, now that you’ve given your opinion on my non-existent love life?”
“Well, seeing as you asked so nicely, of course, Boss,” Oliver turned and began the long process of cleaning down the coffee machine for the night.
With her arms full of groceries, Ivy opened the door to her apartment and kicked it closed behind her.
Another reason she hated Thursdays. She made her way through to her small galley-style kitchen and sat the bags on the counter before returning to lock her front door and take off her messenger bag and jacket.
After putting away the food for the week, she decided to grab a shower before making herself a late dinner. The last reason she hated Thursdays: meal prep.
Ivy didn’t have the time or patience (mostly the patience) to cook meals every day.
After years of failing at eating all her meals, her best friend Lucas’s wife, Gabriella, got her into the habit of meal prepping once a week.
While it didn’t cover the entire week, it was a far cry from living off granola bars, as she’d been doing before meeting Gabby.
Not to mention the fiery temperament that the Mexican woman could flick on-and-off scared Ivy more than she’d ever admit aloud.
After what felt like five hours later, Ivy was eventually done with the week’s meals. Finally, she could now relax in front of the TV to watch her favorite medical drama. Not to mention live vicariously through her favorite sapphic couple in the show.
Watching them over the years had been a balm to her soul.
While she was very much aware that it wasn’t reality that she was watching, the thought that it was possible to have as rounded a relationship with a woman, as with a man, gave her hope that maybe one day she could have that herself.
Back when she was accepting her own queerness without much external support, these characters felt like the only people she could relate to.
She’d never allowed herself to be in a proper relationship before, only ever one-night stands, and never a sleepover. Never long enough to get attached. Let feelings grow. Get hurt.
The downside was she’d never had the companionship, the shared chores, the cute, mushy things like making the other breakfast in bed on a shared day off, or a shared birthday or holiday together.
Ivy needed to face facts: Ella was right—she'd never get to have those things if she didn’t let someone in long enough for them to happen.