“I just need something cozy and welcoming. That is going to make the shop seem like a home to you, and yet feel as though you’re in a magical world. I want big black pastry carts all around. Marble black tables that crowd the space. But at the same time I need something so lively and snuggly that is going to adjust perfectly to the other part.”
“Hmm, what if we added fewer carts, and more indoors plants that would go with livelier colors of the flooring and the walls?”
“Could you show me something to help with my imagination?”
“Sure,” she says with a smile and scrolls though files on her laptop, which after a moment she flips it around so that I can look at what she’s showing me.
“Those are good options,” I add, once I’ve seen all the pictures that she’s showed to me. I really like using a professional insight in my remodeling. I think it’s going to help bring the meaningful touches at the end of this.
“That’s perfect,” Braelyn adds, and she closes her laptop and puts in in her bag, getting ready to leave. As she’s struggling to make all her belongings fit on her big bag, once she tilts sideways, I look at something that captures my attention. When Braelyn gets back to her previous position she wards off the view, so I have to get up and make sure that what I think I saw is true.
Oh, my God. This is unbelievable.
Putting the frowning away, I thank the designer with a smile and tell her that we’ll soon get back in touch, but as she’s leaving, I’m still stuck in place.
I approach to the guy that has drawn my attention. At first, I thought that he was here with a friend. There’s nothing wrong between a guy and a girl grabbing coffee together before heading out to school. But that doesn’t look like it.
Sure you don’t stroke your friends under their chin, and get their latte-smudge out of the corner of their lips, cleaning your coffee-dirty finger in your mouth. And when they kissed; that’s when I knew for sure.
“Tyson? What are you doing here?” I feel like my voice is so autoreactive as if he really has some explaining to do to me, when we barely know each other. My eyes land on him and then on the unknown girl that he kissed a second prior, and then on him again.
He’s fumbling on his words, clearly not having expected someone to barge in on their love hideaway at the coffee shop.
“Um, hey, Ainsley,” he mutters and fumbles like a foolish teenage boy that he is.
Oh, great! So, now he knows my name.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he proceeds.
“Well, of course you didn’t. How are you going to explain this to Kierra? Are you two not together anymore?” I had to ask, even though I don’t think that to be true. If it were, Kierra would’ve run up at my shop, sniveling over her boyfriend and grabbing as many cupcakes as she could.
“Look I don’t know whatever it is that you’re up to, but Kierra deserves to be treated decently. And you are,” I emphasize that, “going to explain whatever this is to her as soon as you can.”
This way, I get out of the shop, suddenly realizing that even the things that from a distance look perfect the most, from within, they’re full of glitches like every other thing in the world.
Chapter Seventeen
“It’s so strange that one second you’re marveling at the perfection of a certain thing and the next, you’re like, not believing that all this arrant image was just a feigning perception.” I scoff, while, I think, Heather doesn’t give a hoot about what I just discovered, being too concerned with her own world and her prospect article.
“Come on, they’re just teenagers. That’s what happens when you’re a being living in a cocoon-world, safe in the parental tutelage, not having a clue about the real world.”
It’s funny that she talks like this about teenagers, when I think she’s nothing more than an unenhanced teenager herself, suck in the indulgingly cruel providence of reality.
“And what does that mean? That he gets to do this to her, because after all, it’s just a silly, temporary teenage love?”
“No, it means that she’ll get over it…” she looks around, and ceases for a second, probably brining in mind all her personal teenage loves. “Eventually.”
Obviously, we don’t share the same insight into this. I don’t believe that Kierra or any other teenage person out there deserves to be treated like this or go through this deception. And I know that Heather doesn’t think so too, but she’s just getting stuck in the more inessential parts of being a teenager.
I’ve been waiting Kierra all along, imagining her running at the shop and probably whining a little for the trickery of her boyfriend. I’ll be here to give the best of my support to her, console her a little, and not let her pay for as many cupcakes as she wants today. But she doesn’t show up.
After closing time today, I think about doing something that would help me with my little investigation.
“Are you up for some sleuthing time that, I think, would help with your scrambling?”
“Do you feel like you even need to ask?” she raises an eyebrow with a huge smile on her face and I know that she’ll tag along.
It’s still midday, but I’m already thinking about my evening plans. I’m going to haunt after Alyvia. I know that she’s up to something and I want to know what it is.
Her weird attitude at the pumpkin store got me so confused, so now she is a suspect at my list too. And like any other suspects out there, she needs to be tested.
The rest of the day goes by smoothly, with a lot of clientele running in and out of the shop, with lots of cupcakes ending up into the hands of the craving townspeople, and nice coffee scent escorting us all the way through.
At least something is going fine in my life. Okay, it’s not like I’m complaining, save this murder mystery, I feel like everything is so great in my life at the moment. Sure there are things that need attention and probably fixing, but after all, it’s a work in progress. And I like the way that it’s leading me to.
Of course, Heather couldn’t stay here all day, but we arranged a meeting time, when the sleuthing plan is on.
She hops in my car and together we wait outside the pumpkin store, staying on the car staging every single move that happens at the store front.
“We can’t wait here forever, right?” Heather is already bored, and I realize what a bad sleuth she makes.
“She’s going to get out somehow for sure,” I try to soothe her out.
“Until then, we’ll be rendering in perpetual boredom.” He notes.
We’re standing from across the driveway, and our position and the evening gloom make it hard to scrutinize everything that is happening precisely.
But when Alyvia gets out of the store, Heather is the first one to draw my attention. “Hey, look, out there.”
“Finally,” I mumble, having waited for quite a while for the girl to show up. I just realized how hard sleuthing can be. First I was thinking that Heather made for a terrible sleuth, but eventually, with each moment passing on, I started to get sleepy and I almost started drowsing on my driver seat. And here Heather proved me wrong by being more attentive than me.
Got to give her what she deserves!
“Where is she headed to?” asks Heather with bulging eyes, putting her head out towards Alyvia’s direction.
“Let’s find out,” I say, and I start the engine, ready to chase after the way Alyvia’s car is leading us to.
“This is just crazy,” Heather mutters. “She just went home, and we chased her down here. Sleuthing 101: always use an itinerary. Like, what did we get out of this?”
“Wait,” I stop her, chasing Alyvia’s every move with my eyes. “She’s not going home.” Sure her car is parked over the driveway in front of her house, but she’s not strolling into her house.
“What do you mean?”
“It is not her house. I know it.”
We wait for it, and then we see Alyvia knocking on the door of the house in front of which she’s standing at the mom
ent. Sure it’s not her house. You wouldn’t be knocking at the door of your house in order to get in.
A woman opens the door. She’s old and impeccably dressed.
“Oh, my. I think like they’re fighting,” Heather comments after a while. And it really looks like it.
“What would you think they’re talking about?”
“I don’t know. Probably Alyvia’s cat knocked down the old lady’s flowers again.” Heather mocks, and I don’t think that Alyvia has a cat in the first place. But that’s just irrelevant.
Heather and I wait quietly until something interesting happens. The discussion between them gets rougher and I think that the old lady just threatened Alyvia by pointing her index finger at her. Now this has got to be serious.
“I’d do anything so I could listen to what they’re saying right now,” says Heather, obviously enjoying the show.
“I assure you you wouldn’t.” I connote.
But then, Alyvia moves away from the woman’s door, and she makes a swivel move and arrives at the door of the house next door, which I know it’s hers.
Opening the door, she gets inside.
“Now, what?” Heather scoffs and leans on her passenger seat. “Hey what are you doing?” she gets back from her drowsing position as soon as she spots me moving out of the car.
“I didn’t come here for nothing,” I mutter and, befuddled, Heather gets out of the car and chases after me.
“What exactly are you planning on doing?” she tries to level up, looking at me continuously and waiting for further explanations as we’re strolling through the lawn of the foreign old lady that Alyvia was arguing with.
“Not sure,” I says shorty, and quite frankly I’m just letting a sudden impulse take control.
We’re standing together in front of the door and I bang twice on the hard wood material. It’s all so quiet, except for the occasional night birds chirping.
“Um, hello?” the old lady frowns because of the strange people in front of her.
“Hey,” I try to sound as amicable as I can. “My name is Ainsley, and this is my friend Heather. We’re friends of Alyvia’s.” As soon as I say that, the entire woman’s complexion alters.
“And?” she’s waiting for me to proceed.
“Well, I don’t mean to overstep or be rude, but I couldn’t help but notice your little fight with her. As her friend I’m concerned. Is everything okay?”
“Since you’re such good friends,” she looks at me suspiciously and I don’t think I will be able to get much out of her. “Why don’t you go over and ask her? She lives next door, in case you didn’t know that.” And she’s got a sense of irony. Got to respect that.
“I know, but she’s been feeling a little overly emotional lately and I was wondering whether there was something that I could do for her.”
“Hmm, well in that case, I think that she’s probably going to need help. Everything is going on the ropes for her. It’s been two months that she’s not paying her rent of the house. That’s the purpose of our arguing, since you were wondering. I put up a requisition. In case she doesn’t come up to me with what she owes me, then I’m going to have to throw her out of my house.”
Throw her out? What kind of person uses this kind of words?
I realize that Alyvia must really be in trouble. And to think that I was just pestering her earlier this day about her discussion with Mrs. Mahoney. Yet again, I’m realizing, that as people, we tend to be really egotistical sometimes, without even knowing it. I was just concerned with my own inquiry earlier at the pumpkin shop, and Alyvia was just stuck in her own problems. I guess her rude behavior was to be expected. And until now, I’ve found her behavior as the quaintest thing ever. What a fool I’ve been.
“Oh,” I shrug, and I look at Heather. The old woman is standing a couple of inches below my chin, but her wrinkled face remains fearless and inquisitive. “Well, that’s for your assistance.” I tell her and together with Heather we head back to the car.
“I didn’t know that she was having money problems,” I tell Heather, my hands clutching the steering wheel.
“So what are we up to next?” I think that all Heather ever cares about is her well-being, and right this moment, I guess that she’s just thinking about her article and how she wasn’t able to get something juicy out of this.
“Do you know what this means? If Mrs. Mahoney goes along with her idea about firing her, then Alyvia won’t be able to provide for herself anymore.”
“So? Is your job to actually take care of everybody’s issues in the world?” Heather shrugs. I know she’s not known for her sense of compassionateness, but at least I expected her to understand. Guess I was wrong.
I guess there’s only so much you can expect from my friend when it comes to being empathetic. And like that we drive back home, with the night seeping through every corner, and Heather getting all drowsy.
Chapter Eighteen
I’m not really sure whether this is happening for real, but I felt like I saw Kierra coming into my shop with the most delightful smile possible. When did getting dumped by your irresistible boyfriend become such a delight? If I’m not mistaken her guy would’ve told her about his little mischief-making at the coffeehouse with another girl, and I guess, knowing Kierra’s determined personality, she must’ve cut the ties with him.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I greet her, trying to keep up with her joyful mood.
“Ainsley, a day goes by without savoring one of your cupcakes and it feels like my universe has crashed,” she says in the sweetest way, and I swear, she bares some kind of magical gracefulness with her every single step into the store.
I take the compliment and cannot help but feel a little proud for having that impact upon the townspeople. That’s why I love living in this little cozy town of mine. Everyone loves you and cares about you. Sure you wouldn’t find that in a big city.
“What can I get you today, dear?” I ask, feeling ever so joyful. I guess it’s contagious.
“Oh, whatever strikes your fancy. Is it weird that I,” she leans closer as though sharing some classified secret with me, “enjoy just about everything that you bake?”
“Oh, you’re so nice.”
“No, that’s the truth. I guess the town wouldn’t be the same without you here. I’m so glad you decided to come back from the city and share your scrumptious, irresistible baking with us.”
My heart warms up. But how could it not? She’s just indulging me with compliments and for a moment I forget all about my concern regarding her boyfriend’s situation.
When I get back with a little cupcake, I look at her pretty face, covered by her long, blonde, shining hair, and I feel like I have to ask.
“Kierra, how are things going on with your boyfriend?”
“Oh, isn’t he the hottest? You know I haven’t told anybody else about this, but I think that I’m ready to take that next step with him in our relationship.”
Oh, that’s too much information for me. I didn’t really need to know that. But, wait. Does she really want to make her relationship with him more cavernous?
From what I’m gathering, he hasn’t been able to get at her with his little trickery. I mean, she wouldn’t be thinking like that if she knew what she’s doing behind her back. Who knows how many other girls he lures into his alluring boyish charm? I guess he’s using his looks for all the wrong reasons. I mean, sure it’s hard to find a teenager as good-looking as Tyson, but that doesn’t mean that he gets to have some sort of prerogatives over other people. Especially over Kierra, who’s the sweetest, mellowest person you’d ever know.
I’m just having a little bit of struggle upon myself. Should I really take up that gauntlet and tell her myself? I mean, it’s not really my position, and somehow I’m a little bit egotistical in this case, in that I don’t want to be the one to crush her with this information.
It is Tyson’s duty to uncover what he did. But I don’t think that he got the guts for it. He’s n
ot that kind of person. I mean, I know his kind. He just reminds me so much of my ex. Sure, Ryker would do all sorts of nasty things and you wouldn’t expect him to be sharing his mischief with you anytime soon. More like ever.
• • •
I can’t sleep, that’s why I’m lingering on my living room with a mug of tea in hand, trying to sort out my thoughts. With everything that’s been going on lately, I guess it’s only normal I’d feel a little perplexed.
Coral is napping alongside me, with I cover my legs with the blanket, and lean my back against the headrest, looking away at an unparticular spot.
Alyvia should be knowing about what’s coming to her. Sooner or later, Mrs. Mahoney is going to be the owner of the shop, and that means that she’d do there as she pleases. But that’s her only earnings’ source. She’s be so crushed if she gets fired. But that’s like inevitable, minding the conflict between Mrs. Mahoney and Alyvia.
On the other hand, Kierra got me really concerned. Her boyfriend is anything but trustworthy. And she knows nothing about it. I feel some kind of burden for having information about him that she needs to know about. Why did I have to come across him at that very particular spot? What am I just thinking? If I weren’t there, then he’d go on with his trickery, and just think how many kinds of deceptions swirl around the world without us knowing.
Are we better off not knowing them at all? I mean, as far as Kierra is concerned, she looked ever so joyful and I’d do anything to keep that alluring smile up on her face. But that means that I’d have to lie to her, and I don’t want to do that particularly.
Oh, God. When did my life become so complicated?
My little contemplation gets disturbed by a muffled sound that sounds like something sparking or stirring. It’s really indistinct though. And I cannot tell for sure whether it’s coming from outside.
The next few seconds get me jumping up, and even Coral wakes up from his little catnap. Something just clamped so loudly, the whole house echoed.
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