I hear his smile through the phone, and I picture him tossing his head back with his mouth slightly open. I miss that mouth. Those lips. His entire presence.
“Well, now you know. She apparently got the coffee pouring skills of the family. Anyway, once he’s out of the hospital, we’ll all take turns helping take care of him.”
“It sounds like you have a solid plan in place.” I pull my knees up and windshield wiper them as I stare at the ceiling. Even though I’m on the phone with him, I’m still daydreaming about him. The only thing that would make this moment more perfect, would be if I had a corded phone and could twirl the cord in my hand like I used to in grade school.
“We do. It’s a little overwhelming, and normally I’m used to that. But things at the café haven’t been perfect, though, so it’s scary. I’m afraid I can’t handle it all.”
I hate he’s feeling like this. Dealing with his father’s injury is difficult enough to throw on any other concerns. “What’s going on at work?”
His silence slices through me like a dagger. He entrusts me with information about his father, but isn’t comfortable enough to discuss his work situation?
“I don’t mean to pry. I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s me who should be sorry. It’s just that I worked really hard to build this place, and in the past few months, we’ve lost more money than made. I’m a failure.”
“I won’t let you think that. You’re amazing. Simply having built your business at such a young age is an accomplishment in itself. You weren’t afraid to put everything on the line and it paid off. Where’s that guy now?”
Josie yells from the other room that she’ll be back shortly. I cover my mouth piece and acknowledge her. “Sorry. That was my roommate. So what are you thinking about doing? Running ads? Some huge marketing campaign? I’m sure there’s something that you can do to drum up business.”
His heavy breathing into the phone makes me shiver. “I have a plan.”
He sounds sad, defeated. “What is it? How can I help?” I want to do anything I can.
“There is nothing you can do. I’m selling the coffee shop.”
“What? You can’t do that.”
“Yes, I can. There’s no other option. I can take the money and set some aside to help my dad and find a job wearing a tie working nine to five.”
“I want to see you.” I blurt out the words before I can think about what I’m saying.
His silence concerns me, and it’s lingering much too long. I want him to say something. Anything. “I want to see you, too.”
Before he has a chance to change his mind, I’m on my way to meet him.
••••••••
“Wow. This view…” I lay my head on Ed’s shoulder and loop my arm around his. Lake Michigan goes on for miles in front of us and the sky is a perfect canvas of pinks, blues, and oranges. I’ve never watched the sunset from the beach. Now I know what I’ve been missing. I’m itching to paint this. I can already envision the finished piece.
I shiver and Ed pulls me closer to him. “Are you cold?”
“It’s a little chilly, but to be honest, I’m warmer inside than I ever have been.” He squeezes me. “I’m so happy fate brought us together.”
“Is that what it was? I thought it was my inability to serve coffee, followed by my desire for a movie from the Redbox.”
He always seems to skip over Vogue. I don’t like to think about it, and I’m sure talking about it isn’t something he enjoys either. I like his version of how we met better. Yes, I’ve dreamed my whole life of being rescued, but spilled coffee is better.
A sailboat passes by in the distance. I haven’t been on a sailboat before and only a pontoon boat a few times. All the open water scares me. I imagine the boat capsizing and the lake swallowing me whole. “Do you come to the lake often?”
“Nah. I would love to, but it’s not like it’s right around the corner. I prefer the tower, but I thought you’d handle flat ground better.”
“Seriously? I would have climbed the tower again for you.” Or a skyscraper. Or a mountain. If he’s waiting on top, sign me up. “Do you know where I like to go to relax?”
“Hm.” He unravels from me and leans back into the sand. “Based on what I know about you… I think I’ll go with… stand-up comedy.”
“Right. I’m far from funny.”
“Karaoke.”
“Wrong again. I volunteer at the Humane Society and play with the animals.”
“You told me that already.”
“I did?” I’ll admit I daydream a lot when I’m with him, but I must do it more often than I’m aware.
“Yes. But tell me more. Please.”
“Huh. Anyway, there’s something about surrounding myself with these animals who want nothing more than to be pet, played with, and loved that relaxes me. They don’t judge. Are you an animal lover?”
“Who isn’t? I’m a dog person myself.”
“Do you have any pets?”
“No. Do you? I don’t recall seeing one at your apartment.”
“No. I want one, and my landlord is okay with pets, but I’m not sure if I’m prepared for the commitment of one yet.”
“You’ll commit one day.”
I don’t know if he means to a dog or a relationship. Committing myself to one person doesn’t scare me at all. It’s the whole being responsible for another life, even a canine one, that scares me half to death. “I had a puppy once when I was seven.”
“Just when you were seven?”
“Yeah.” I still remember his cold nose and the puppy breath when he kissed me. “He was a beagle. I was so happy to get him. My parents didn’t think I was ready, but I begged and begged until they finally caved.” He wraps his arms around me tighter and nestles me into the nook of his neck. “His name was Dew.”
“As in Mountain Dew?”
“The one and only. Let’s just say I’ve consumed my fair share. I’m in recovery.”
“Good to know. I’ll steer clear of anything that could enable you.”
I laugh and continue on. “One day we were playing in the yard. I threw the ball, and it rolled into the street. Dew chased after it.”
He gasps. “Did he get hit by a car?”
“No, but he kept running, and I wasn’t allowed in the street. By the time I got my mom, he was long gone. I never saw him again.”
“I’m so sorry.”
I choke back tears because my dog story is a sorry excuse to be sad when he’s dealing with a parent in the hospital and the downfall of his business. “Hey, it’s been twenty years. You move on.” But I still think about him a lot. I long for a pet some day. The unconditional love. “So Leann, she’s your sister, huh?”
“Since birth.”
“Hey!” I jab him in his side. “You know what I mean. I’m sorry I didn’t realize.”
“Why are you always sorry? You apologize a lot.”
“I’m sorry—”
“See, there you go again.”
Do I really do that? I guess you don’t realize something until someone points it out. “I have no idea why. It might have something to do with my parents. Doesn’t everything we do in life somehow relate to them?”
“I suppose you’re right. What kind of number did your parents do on you?”
I never gave much thought to the way my parents raised me and how it’s affected me in my life. I am who I am. When he asks me this, though, I can’t help going back to the last time I was at a family dinner.
“Well, I recently discovered they’re not as proud of me as I thought they were.”
“What do you mean by that?” His hand massages my arm, sliding up and down bringing me comfort.
“I guess I thought they were okay with what I chose to do with my life, and I recently found out that they wish I’d done more.”
“You’re young. There’s plenty of time. Besides it’s not really up to them now is it?”
I stare out into the lake
, moments before afraid of the open water, and now wishing I had more of it in front of me. “I sometimes wonder why I didn’t go to veterinarian school. I love animals.”
“Says the girl who doesn’t own an animal.”
“I will. Someday. There is this little Pomeranian at the Humane Society that I’ve got my eye on.”
“Is that one of those tiny dogs that Paris Hilton carries around?”
I roll my eyes at him. “I think she carries a Chihuahua, so no. She’s tiny and orange and her fur is wild. She’s like a tiny lion.”
“I’d hate to state the obvious here, but why don’t you adopt her then?”
“She’s in pretty bad shape right now. In fact I haven’t been able to visit her for a while now. Every time I volunteer she’s being cared for by the vets. She was in a pretty abusive situation before she came to the Humane Society. They’re working with her behaviorally, and she has a lot of physical injuries they’re trying their best to fix. But they need more money.”
“What’s her name?”
“Sienna.” The name is perfect for her. I couldn’t imagine her with any other.
“She’ll be yours one day.”
What a dream that would be. She’s not expected to be adoptable for another few months. I want to see her more, but I understand the staff needs to work with her and these things take time. “I wish I could help her somehow. I wish I could help them all.”
The swooshing of the waves on Lake Michigan soothe me, and the water almost hits our toes. The sun will be setting soon, and I’ll have to say goodbye to Ed. I don’t want to leave him. We only lost a few days, but I want to make up that time we didn’t have together.
“You’re amazing, do you know that?” He strokes my hair behind my ear and leans down, kissing me softly on my earlobe. The tingles in my body are making me wet. “You know, maybe you could do something to help them out.”
“I’m not adopting all the animals there.”
Our bodies shake when he laughs. “No. Not that. But what if you donated money?”
He does remember I work at the mall, right? I donate here and there but I can’t give hundreds of dollars like I want. If money were no object, I would make a huge donation and probably keep a monthly one going. I want to help them any way I can. “The little I can give won’t do anything.”
“What if everyone thought that way? What if every single person in the world thought that because their contribution was too small it wasn’t worth giving? I don’t want to live in that kind the world. Do you?”
I sag my head down and drown out the voices next to us. An older couple has walked onto the shoreline, and in this very moment, this moment when I’m in admiration over the words that Ed has spoken, I’m upset they’re there. He tightens his embrace around me.
“If I gave money to anyone, I’d want to give it to you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” I break free of him and stand and start pacing back and forth. “I hate that Perc Me Up is struggling. Not only do I love that place, but it’s a part of you. And I…” I can’t say I love him. We’ve known each other for such a short period of time, but what I’m feeling for him is so strong it tears me up inside when I’m not with him. “I care about you so much. I don’t want you to lose what’s important to you.”
Not paying any attention to the couple next to us, Ed jumps to a standing position. “You don’t get to decide what’s important to me.” His hand is on my arm to stop me from pacing. I allow his hand to slide down my arm and we intertwine our fingers. “My mom, dad, Leann, my nephew, and you. That’s what’s important to me. I can close up shop tomorrow, slap on a suit, and probably make more money in one year than I have in the last few. None of that matters, Whitney, none of it, unless I’m surrounded by the people I care for most.”
For the first time, I’m looking into his eyes, and he’s allowing me more than a glimpse of his soul. He means what he says, but it’s not without pain. It’s not without suffering. He truly believes every word he has spoken to me, but he doesn’t want to admit defeat. I don’t know if he’s afraid to, or he’s not ready.
“You’re right. It doesn’t. But it doesn’t mean you get to throw in the towel so easily, either.” The couple next to us decides to get up and leave. I don’t care if I make anybody uncomfortable. This conversation needs to be had. “The coffee shop is your dream. Don’t just throw it all away.”
He drops his hands from mine and turns his back to me. I wonder what he’s thinking, staring into the open water. He massages the back of his neck, his body stiffening instead of softening with every stroke. “Have you followed your dreams?” He turns and stares at me, his hands dropped to either side of his body. “The makeup counter. You told me before that’s not what you wanted to do with your life. What’s stopping you? What’s holding you back from taking a leap of faith?”
“This isn’t about me.” Sure, the conversation may have begun because of a sick puppy at the Humane Society, but this discussion is all about him and his refusal to do what he needs to do to keep his business relevant. “I’ve got it.” The lightbulb goes off in my head as the glowing sun begins its descent behind the farthest edge of the lake. “A fundraiser.”
“What? A fundraiser for what? Perc Me Up? How is a fundraiser going to help business?”
“It won’t at first. You said that I should donate money to help Sienna. I can’t guarantee all the money will go directly to her, but it will help the Humane Society in some way. We can hold it at Perc Me Up. A percentage of the sales for the day could go to helping the Humane Society.”
“It sounds like a great idea, but who’s really going to come?”
“Plenty of people. We’ll print out flyers and will advertise via Facebook and word-of-mouth. People will come to the event and then they’ll keep coming back.”
He plops back down on the sand and wraps his arms around his knees. I join him, snuggling as close to him as I can. “But what if they stop? What if business picks up for a few weeks and then it stops?”
“I don’t know. But I won’t let your store become an abandoned building with a For Sale sign on the outside. I know things seem so much worse now with your dad in the hospital, and that it feels like everything is crashing down on you, but you shouldn’t make huge decisions like selling your business based on a few crappy days.”
He turns to me and places his hand on my shoulder and moves it up until he cups my chin. “Let’s do this. But you have to do me a favor.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t give up on your dreams, either.”
His lips touch mine, and we fall back onto the sand. I sink into the earth, hoping I can find out what, exactly, my dream is, besides the one I’m in right now.
Chapter Ten
Time passes whether you want it to or not. The seasons will change, people age, and healing becomes easier. After three long weeks, Ed’s dad has been released from the hospital and driving everyone crazy with his demands. He calls them requests, but Ed’s frustration level tells me otherwise. Ed wants to assist his dad, but trying to hold together the coffee shop in between running errands and helping him do daily activities is wearing him down.
I still haven’t met his father, but I did have the opportunity to meet his mother briefly at the café. I stopped in on a day off and enjoyed a large coffee while people watching and catching a glimpse of Ed whenever I could. She stopped by to drop something off for Leann and introduced herself. The visit was quick, but from the brief hello, I gathered she’s quite pleasant.
I haven’t painted anything in a while now, but I’ve been using all of my spare time to spend with Ed. I planned on starting something today, but Leann invited me to a farm near her parent’s house for strawberry picking. Her son wanted to spend time with grandpa, so her parents are watching him while Ed is working, and we go to the farm.
She picks me up, and we drive the twenty minutes to the farm. I’m pleased she brought along coffee for me. She
knows me so well, even though this is the first time we’re spending actual time together.
The farm is commercialized, offering hayrides, a small petting zoo, and a tiny store. This is the first week of the strawberry picking season so it’s not too busy. I’m sure in the next few weeks this place will be swarming with families and kids begging to do everything in sight.
“Do you go picking every season?” I’ve gone a few times, and once with a boyfriend in college, but it’s been years. I love strawberries but with only me and Josie in the apartment I can’t go through them before they go bad. Yes, I can freeze them, but they don’t taste the same.
Leann grabs a basket for each of us and hands one to me. “I try to. I like to keep fresh fruit in the house at all times, and you can’t get much fresher than this.”
I follow her as she leads the way to the strawberry vines. It’s obvious she’s been here before and knows her way around.
“Every year I find this is the best section.” She makes a pretend circle as she outlines the area she’s speaking of. She doesn’t wait for me as she crouches down and starts to pick through the vines.
The ground is still a little muddy from the last rain. The strawberries are bright and appear so moist I want to eat them as I pick them. After a few minutes I glance over at Leann and her bucket is pretty filled. I’ve collected about half of what she has. “Wow. How are you finding so many ready to be picked?” I was surprised to hear that she was going this early in the season.
“I don’t spend a lot of time examining each one. I like to make jam, and they don’t need to be perfect for that.”
“I’ve never made anything like that before. I’m not exactly skilled in the kitchen.”
“You don’t have to be when it comes to canning. It’s pretty simple. I can teach you sometime.”
Leann keeps pulling strawberries and tossing them into her container, never breaking her concentration to make eye contact. We’ve spent all of forty minutes together, and she’s already offering to spend more time with me. I don’t know what Ed has all told her about me, but I definitely like her. I’m thrilled she’s made such a generous offer, though I’m uncertain how appealing canning is to me.
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