Emmarie chuckled, shaking her head. “It’s just a week, Landon.”
Landon frowned.
Emmarie came over to him and put her arms around his neck, holding the cotton candy behind his head. “You look like a kid that hasn't gotten his way,” she said, laughing.
Landon’s frown dissolved. It was impossible to not smile when he heard her laugh. “Can we still talk every night?” he asked hopefully.
She nodded. “I’ll give you my mom’s number.”
“Okay,” Landon said resignedly. He knew Emmarie had to go up north next week to see her mom; it was part of the deal when she chose to live with her dad after her parents separated. Emmarie had convinced her mom to let her stay in Willow Creek so she could finish high school there, but Landon knew the truth behind her decision. Emmarie was concerned about her dad, Maddox. Since his wife, Nina, had left him last year and moved to Tennessee, his dependence on alcohol had worsened significantly. Emmarie couldn’t abandon her father when he needed her most.
Emmarie and Landon uniquely understood each other. Landon’s own parents had separated nearly three years ago, and he had been living with his mom ever since. Both his mom and dad had chosen to remain in Willow Creek, and while they lived only a couple of miles apart, Landon’s relationship with his dad couldn’t be more distant.
Landon’s dad was the local family practice doctor, Dr. Young, and beloved by the entire town. Dr. Young had taken care of the young and old of Willow Creek for years now, but as he consistently nurtured the ill back to health and the weak to strong, the very fabric of his own life began to break down. After years of putting patients first and his family last, his wife, Faye Young, moved out, taking Landon with her.
Landon soon realized that living alone with his mom wasn’t that different from when they lived with his dad, and the adjustment was surprisingly smooth. However, it wasn’t until Landon started seeing Emmarie that he actually started to feel happy again, and more than ever like himself.
Emmarie dropped her arms from around Landon and took another puff of the cotton candy. She held it close to Landon’s mouth, teasing him.
He leaned in closer and took the cotton with his teeth, his steely blue eyes laughing as he watched her.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to ride the carousel here,” Emmarie said suddenly, looking back longingly in the direction of the rides.
Landon took her hand, the corners of his mouth lifting into a barely-there smile. “Let’s go then.”
They walked back through the fair, making their way over to the ride. As they sat down together on one of the painted horses on the carousel, Emmarie reached into her purse. “I want to get a picture of us, one that I can take to Tennessee with me.” Taking out a disposable camera, she called over to one of the carnies that was walking around the carousel, making sure all the children were strapped in. “Sir? Would you mind taking a picture of my boyfriend and I?”
The carnie nodded and took the plastic camera from her outstretched hand.
Landon put his arm around Emmarie’s waist, holding her tightly as she gazed at him, smiling.
The carnie counted, “One, two, three,” and the camera clicked.
Chapter 3
A Gainful Employment
Georgia woke up earlier than usual. It was barely light outside, and the sun was just beginning to rise. She rolled over and looked at the clock on her bedside table. 5:42 a.m. She sighed exasperatedly. She had hoped to sleep in this morning. Knowing she would be unable to get back to sleep, she sat up and stretched, yawning as she held her arms over her head. Georgia ran her hands through her long hair, a slow smile forming across her lips as she devised a plan that would make the most of her unexpectedly early morning.
After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she combed through her dark, thick hair, and pulled it up into a ponytail. She knew she would be glad later to have her hair up off her neck in the humidity. She then dressed in a pair of high-waisted cutoff shorts and a faded turquoise tee.
Quietly, Georgia tiptoed down the hall and took the stairs carefully, skipping the step that always creaked. She went into the kitchen where she was greeted by Millie. “Want to come run an errand with me?” Georgia asked her, running her hands through the lab’s fur.
Always eager for a walk, Millie practically shook with anticipation at the prospect of another outing. Georgia led Millie through the living room slowly so that her nails scratching the wood floor wouldn’t be as loud, and then grabbed the leash. She hooked it to Millie’s collar, slipped on her shoes, and they headed outside.
The pair walked down Magnolia Lane towards Main Street as the rising sun broke through the canopy of leaves overhead. The smell of dew and freshly cut grass was positively invigorating, and Georgia couldn’t help but feel excited for the day ahead as they turned onto Main Street.
Main Street was already seeing signs of activity for the day. Although a sleepy town for the most part, Willow Creek was first and foremost a farming town. The day started early for most of its residents, with the farmers and local cotton gin workers headed into Duke’s Diner for their morning ritual of black coffee and biscuits and gravy. As Georgia neared the diner, the ever-glowing neon sign of Duke’s was brightly lit and beckoning to all with the promise of hot coffee, buttermilk pancakes, freshly flipped burgers, and ice-cold milkshakes at any hour of the day. It was the heart and soul of this town, and had been for decades.
Georgia tied Millie up outside on the bike rack before jogging up the concrete steps into Duke’s. The bell jingled over the door as she let herself in. Looking around, she could see the diner was already busy with at least half of its red, faux leather booths filled with farmers and other early risers nursing their second or third cups of coffee.
Georgia walked over to the front counter where Duke himself was ringing up an order at the old cash register. Duke had run the diner for nearly forty years now, and was just as much a part of Willow Creek’s history as the diner itself was.
“Good morning, Duke,” Georgia said sweetly.
Duke looked up from the register. “Well, I’ll be! If it ain’t Miss Georgia Summer! Back home from college already? Haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays!”
Georgia nodded. “Yes, sir! Got back yesterday.”
Duke gave her a wide, toothy grin. “Well, welcome home, Miss Georgia. So, you a doctor yet?”
Georgia giggled. “No, not yet, Duke. I still have three more years of undergrad studies before I can apply to medical school.”
“Well, hurry up already! I’m gettin’ old here and you’re the only doc I’d wanna see!” Duke winked at her. “What can I get you this mornin’?” he asked, wiping his hands on his striped apron.
“Actually, I was wanting to surprise my dad with his favorite breakfast—”
“Let’s see. Scrambled eggs, hash browns, a strip of bacon, and two sausage links?” Duke asked.
“Yes, please. With a large black coffee to go, as well.”
Duke nodded. “Comin’ right up, Miss Georgia!”
Georgia took a seat on one of the barstools at the counter, but then remembered Millie outside. Hopping up from her barstool, she walked towards the door to check on Millie, but as she reached for the door handle, it swung open fast, almost knocking her backwards. “Oh! Doctor Young!” Georgia exclaimed as the local family practice doctor walked in.
“Why hello, Georgia. How are you?” he asked.
Georgia looked up and was shocked to see the man that stood before her. Doctor Young was a middle-aged, handsome man that had seen nearly everyone for every ailment imaginable in the small town of Willow Creek, including Georgia and her own family. He had even helped to deliver Virginia’s twins just a few years ago. He was by all means the resident doctor of Willow Creek.
But the man that stood before Georgia had changed drastically in the past year. His usually upright, tall posture was now stooped, as though invisibly weighted by an unspoken suffering. He was wearing one of his
dark-colored suits, but the clothing hung from his frame, unable to conceal the fact that he was much thinner. His skin had lost its rosy glow and was instead drawn and pale, with his cheeks visibly sunken under his prominent cheekbones.
Georgia, caught off guard by his appearance, remembered his question and answered hurriedly, “I-I-I’m well. Home for the summer from college.”
Dr. Young dipped his head, nodding slightly. “Very good, very good. Well, you take care now, Georgia,” he said curtly, and before she could ask after him, he turned and shuffled his way over to one of the few empty booths, moving slower than his typical, energetic pace she so clearly remembered from before.
Georgia stood for a moment looking after him, and then went outside to check on Millie. Millie seemed content sniffing around Doctor Young’s car: a 1957 baby blue Cadillac Coupe DeVille. It was indeed an impressive car, and even Millie seemed to recognize this fact as she had given it a wide, respectful berth during her inspection. Satisfied that Millie was behaving, Georgia returned inside and sat down on the barstool again.
“Your order’s almost ready, Miss Georgia. Say, you got any plans for the summer?” Duke asked as he set the coffeepot down on the warmer.
Georgia shrugged. “Not really. Spending time with Virginia and the girls. But beyond that, just taking a break from studies.” She smiled, relieved that she didn’t have to think about homework anymore.
“Well, would you be interested in helping me out for a few hours in the mornin's? I got this new espresso machine…” Duke gestured behind him.
Georgia followed his direction down the long countertop and saw the brand new, bright turquoise machine. It looked out of place in the 1950s style diner.
As if reading her mind, Duke explained, “I know, it doesn’t really fit in with the style of Duke’s Diner, but customers have been askin’ for some fancy coffees for the last few years-coffees I ain’t never heard of! And, well, I gotta keep up with the times, I guess.” He sighed, placing his hand on his hip as he looked at the machine with both admiration and fear.
Georgia felt a twinge of sympathy for Duke. Duke had worked hard all of his life to keep his diner going, and even in his sixties now he was still working just as hard as ever to please his customers, even if it meant admitting to the fact that he had lost pace with the times.
“It would just be in the mornin's, and you’d have Sundays off—"
“I'd love to, Duke. Count me in,” Georgia answered without fully thinking her response through.
“Really? Well, I declare that’s the best news I’ve heard all day!”
Duke’s smile of relief was all Georgia needed to know that she had given the right answer.
“Quick question, though. You ever used one of these contraptions?” Duke asked.
Georgia laughed, shaking her head. “No. But I’ll learn!”
✽✽✽
Georgia was walking up the driveway when her dad came out of the house, dressed and ready for work. She bounded up the porch steps, skipping two at a time, breakfast and coffee in hand. “Morning, dad! Brought you your favorite breakfast from Duke’s.” She held out the bag and large coffee while Millie looked on longingly at the bag, her nose wriggling hopefully as she caught a whiff of the bacon and sausage inside.
“Oh! Thank you, sweetheart. That was thoughtful of you,” he said gratefully as she handed over the coffee and food. He took a swig of the coffee. “I was wonderin’ where you’d gone off to. Figured you took Millie for a walk.”
Georgia shook her head. “I couldn’t sleep in.” She paused, and then added, “By the way, you’re looking at the new barista of Duke’s Diner." She grinned, putting her hand on her hip.
Her dad smiled. “Really? Duke gave you a job? That’s great news!”
Georgia laughed. “Well, it’s not really my dream job, but it’s a good summer gig for while I’m home.” She bent down to pet Millie, who was more interested in the food still.
Her dad chuckled. “And it’ll keep you outta trouble,” he said, winking at her. “Well, I’m off to work, Georg.” He started down the steps, calling back over his shoulder, “Stay outta trouble and I’ll see you tonight!”
“Don’t worry. I will,” she called back as she waved him off.
✽✽✽
The next morning, Georgia arrived at Duke’s five minutes before her official start time at five-thirty. Though early, it was already growing busy for the day. Several of the booths had filled up, and the cook was dishing out orders just as fast as he could.
Duke greeted her, “Mornin’, Miss Georgia! Ready for your first day?”
Georgia nodded, feeling a few butterflies in her stomach. Other than babysitting throughout high school and volunteering at the hospital on weekends while at university, she hadn’t really had an official job before, and she had definitely never used a commercial espresso machine.
“Here. I dug up these instructions on how to use the machine,” Duke said as he handed her a booklet of instructions, the front cover stiff from spilled coffee.
Georgia fought back a smile. ‘The machine’ sounded far more ominous and scary than it really was.
“Maybe you could read through that and have a go at it?” Duke asked.
“Sure! I’ll get started now.”
Duke nodded and went back to the kitchen.
Georgia plopped herself down on one of the barstools and started reading. In a few minutes she had read and reread the entire booklet, as well as the included pamphlet of sample espresso recipes. She didn’t feel as nervous now that she had armed herself with more knowledge. She swiveled around on her barstool, hopped up, and went around behind the front counter. Duke was over on the other side of the diner taking orders from a group of chatty, elderly women. Georgia sighed and turned to face the machine, hands on her hips. Now that she was alone with it, it was a little intimidating.
She decided to start with a basic shot of espresso. Taking a deep breath, Georgia glanced at the instructions again and started. First, she removed the portafilter from the grouphead, twisting it out from under the roof of the machine. Looking around, she grabbed one of the clean dishcloths from under the counter and wiped the portafilter. Then she flushed the grouphead, letting any excess water drain out. With the clean portafilter, she filled its basket with ground coffee beans from the grinder beside the espresso machine, and then leveled off the grounds into a clean bowl.
Taking the tamper, she pushed the grounds deeper into the portafilter, her arm forming a ninety-degree angle. As she pulled the tamper straight back from the portafilter, some of the grounds spilled onto the floor, and she made a mental note to sweep up later. Finally, placing the portafilter directly back into the grouphead, Georgia started brewing the shot.
Barely thirty seconds later, a rich brown layer of espresso slowly started to pour from the grouphead into the drip pan. Georgia realized she had forgotten a cup, and dove to get one under the counter. She slipped it under the grouphead as the espresso continued to pour, finishing with a light layer of crema on the top. She inhaled the strong, heady scent of the espresso, and smiled as she took the cup out to inspect her creation.
A sudden applause behind Georgia startled her and she whirled around, almost spilling the espresso.
“Well done, Miss Georgia! Your first invention and not even an hour on the job!” Duke said, laughing as he clapped.
Georgia smiled with relief. “Want to test it? Let me know what you think?” She held out the cup to Duke.
“It’s all yours, Miss Georgia. It’s on the house!” Duke chuckled.
Just then the cook called out, “Order up!”
Georgia heard a plate hit the counter, and caught a whiff of savory sausage emanating from the kitchen.
“Excuse me, Miss Georgia. Gotta feed these hungry folks!” Duke grabbed the full plate of food before walking around the counter to one of the booths where a woman sat expectantly.
Georgia took a sip of the espresso as she surveyed the diner
, enjoying the rich taste. Then, grabbing the broom, she began to sweep up the grounds she had spilled. As she put the broom away, the bell jingled over the front door and she looked up as Dr. Young walked in. Though Georgia had seen him the previous day, she was still startled by his harsh change in appearance and stooped posture. It was all she could do to not stare and wonder what had happened to him.
He wasn’t alone this time. Dr. Young held the door open behind him and someone followed him in. A younger man appeared, probably in his thirties or forties, Georgia guessed. She had never seen him before and he looked like he wasn’t from around these parts. He was dressed in a freshly pressed, grey suit with a navy tie, carrying a shiny black briefcase.
“Hi, Dr. Young,” Georgia said as they walked past the counter over to an empty booth, but Dr. Young didn’t hear her. He looked completely distracted, absorbed in his own thoughts.
The younger man acknowledged Georgia and nodded towards her.
Georgia gave him a thin smile and watched them sit down at a booth. Still watching them out of the corner of her eye, she wiped the drip tray on the espresso machine, cleaning up her spill from earlier.
The man took a file out from his briefcase and spread several documents across the table, gesturing to one in particular with his pen. Dr. Young leaned in, following the man’s motions as he pinpointed to certain parts of the document. They spoke quietly with each other, their faces serious. Georgia wondered what they would be meeting about at this hour on a Friday morning.
Pressing her lips together, Georgia turned her attention back to the espresso machine, determined to learn how to make other drinks. For the next hour she practiced using the machine and quickly learned how to make cappuccinos, Americanos, and lattes. So engrossed she was in her self-taught lessons that she almost didn’t notice Dr. Young and the suited man leaving. As she turned to grab the milk pitcher next to the machine, she saw the suited man follow Dr. Young out. Georgia furrowed her eyebrows together, perplexed by the peculiar meeting between the two unlikely parties.
Georgia Summer Page 3