by Lynn Cahoon
“You start on that list, I’ll handle the daily prep and any customers who arrive.” I washed my hands in the sink and then put on my apron, pausing for a second to breathe and feel my gratitude for Coffee, Books, and More’s escape from the random damage to Harrold’s place.
By ten, the prep work had been completed and both Sasha and I were sitting on the couch, deep in our books with cups of coffee within reach. We both looked up when the bell over the door rang. Josh Thomas lumbered into the shop. The book dropped out of my hand, and I scrambled to pick it up and shove a bookmark to mark my place.
He scowled at me. “Where’s Jackie?”
I paused, taking in the new Josh. Instead of his usual funeral director look of suit and white dress shirt, he had on a navy blue tracksuit, complete with a company logo announcing to the world that he’d paid knock-off prices for the outfit. “Neke” didn’t make running clothes, but that worked for this outfit because Josh didn’t run.
When I didn’t answer, I got a more determined glower, and I heard Sasha’s tiny giggle behind me. I stammered, “Upstairs in her apartment?”
My aunt lived in the small apartment that took up the second floor of the building I’d bought six years ago to open Coffee, Books, and More. Before Miss Emily had died and left me her house down by the end of Main Street, I’d lived there, too.
“I tried her door, no answer.” Josh glanced around the empty shop like maybe we were hiding my aunt from him in some kind of weird practical joke.
I shook my head. “I swear, I haven’t seen her today.”
And just then, mostly to prove my words a lie, my aunt sauntered out of the back office, her own tracksuit a bright pink with a designer label on the lapel. “Stop growling at everyone, Josh. I just came down to grab my backpack and fill it with bottled water.”
Instantly, Josh’s demeanor went from annoyed to welcoming. The boy had it bad for my aunt. Which probably explained the tracksuit. I couldn’t help myself, I asked the obvious. “You two going running?”
I got a second glower from Josh, but Aunt Jackie ignored my pointed jab. “Walking, actually. We’re going down to the beach for a few laps.”
“I don’t know why you needed to go so early,” Josh mumbled. I guessed the activity hadn’t been his idea.
Aunt Jackie came around the coffee bar and handed him the backpack. “Because I work at night and your shop opens at one. If not now, we’d never get time to do this.”
Which I thought was Josh’s plan in the first place.
Aunt Jackie stared at the book in Sasha’s hand. “Did you get my text?”
Sasha flew up out of the couch, tucking the book behind her. “Yes, ma’am. I finished the entire list a few minutes ago. The boxes are all packed and ready to go near the back door.”
Aunt Jackie’s glance went toward the office door she’d just exited. Like she could see through the wall to assure herself that Sasha wasn’t fibbing. “I’m sure I’ll think of a few more things tonight, I’ll leave another list for you on the desk.”
“What, no ‘thank you’ or ‘good job’?” I prodded. Sometimes my aunt could be a little pushy, especially with people who let her get away with it. Like Sasha and apparently, Josh.
“Sasha knows she’s a valued member of the team. Saying thank-you would be an insult to her work ethic.” Aunt Jackie strolled to the exit, and Josh hurried to beat her there so he could open the door for her. “See you tomorrow.”
Both Sasha and I stood, watching until the couple disappeared down the street toward the beach entrance. Finally we sank back into our respective seats, but neither of us opened our books. “That was …” I searched for a word.
“Interesting?” Sasha prompted.
I shook my head. “No, I was thinking more like frightening. I hope Josh paid his medical insurance premium this month. I’d lay money on him not making it to the highway before he strokes out.”
Sasha reopened her book and didn’t meet my eyes. “I bet he makes the beach parking lot.”
Walking home that afternoon, I didn’t see Josh passed out under a bush or sprawled on one of the many park benches the city council had sprinkled through town for seating during our many parades. I’d stayed late to work on the books so that Aunt Jackie could take the mess to our accountant the next week. After playing with numbers all afternoon, I needed a diversion. I considered stopping in to Antiques by Thomas to see if he’d returned to work, but I couldn’t think of a good excuse to do so. Saying “I wanted to see if you were still alive” seemed a little callous. And I didn’t need more furniture, especially of the type Josh sold: old and expensive.
My phone chirped, and I saw I had a text from Greg. I paused on a bench to read the message before I got too far away. Sometimes we met for a quick dinner at Diamond Lille’s, and tonight was pasta night. My hopeful thoughts were dashed with the first line. I read it aloud just to get the full depressing effect: “Stuck at work. Will see you tomorrow at the fake race.”
I looked into the restaurant’s windows. If Greg wasn’t coming by, I might as well eat dinner early. I put the phone in my tote and jaywalked across the street. Let him arrest me, at least we’d be together for the booking. I giggled at the thought and went into the diner, beelining toward my favorite booth before anyone else could claim it. I hadn’t needed to worry; the diner was dead. A few locals sat around one table, talking, but other than that, I had the place to myself.
Carrie appeared from the back and grabbed a coffeepot, then walked up to my table. “Greg meeting you?” She poured a cup and held out a second.
“Just me tonight.” I tapped the menu. “Too early for the baked manicotti?”
She checked her watch. “I’ll check in with the cook. We just finished our weekly staff meeting, so he’s knee-deep in prep. But I’m sure John can do it. You might have a bit of a wait.”
I pulled out a biography of Jacqueline Kennedy and laid it on the table. “I’m fine, I came prepared. Can I get a glass of water, too?”
“Coming right up. You want a salad with the pasta?” Carrie finished taking my order and before she disappeared into the kitchen, stopped at the other table and topped off their coffee. I leaned into the booth and tucked a foot up under me, preparing to lose myself in the early years when Jackie and Jack were dating.
Feeling a bit guilty about my dinner plans, I decided to call Greg and see if he wanted me to deliver something to the station before I went home. I dialed his cell, but it went straight to voice mail. Must be in a meeting, I mused. So I called the station, as Esmeralda would still be on duty until five.
“South Cove Police Station, what can I do for you?” Her voice sounded upbeat, like she’d been bored to death at her desk and hoped there was a major issue somewhere in town so that she could call in the troops.
“It’s Jill. I was wondering if Greg called in a to-go order for tonight’s dinner. I’m at Lille’s now, so I could drop something off for when he’s out of the meeting.” Carrie brought my water as I waited for Esmeralda’s response.
“He’s not here, honey. He took off about three, saying he had some errands to run.” She paused. “I thought he’d told you.”
I thought about the message. I’d assumed he was at the station working late. “My bad. He did text me, I just assumed he’d be there.” Now I sounded like I was checking up on him. Time to change the subject. “You running in the five-K on Saturday?”
The sound of her laughter soothed my nerves. “Me? Run? Jill, I haven’t run in years. Besides, I’ve got a full day of readings on Saturday. People want to check in before taking off for vacation. Summer is my busiest time of year.”
I thought about Esmeralda and her fortune-telling business. She’d done some readings on me that had totally creeped me out. Mostly because she didn’t seem to remember what she’d said afterward. Either she was the real thing, or she was really good at playing me. I wished her a good weekend and put my cell away, returning to the book.
This time
, I did get lost in the story. When Carrie brought over my salad, I didn’t want to pull myself back to reality. I kept reading, absently eating, until I finished the first section and closed the book, and noticed my food was all gone. I paid my tab and tucked the book into my tote. Walking home, I kept thinking about Jackie’s early years, and the hopes she’d had for her life. Some people might think being a First Wife was all about the glamour, but the woman was smart.
Harrold waved at me from inside The Train Station as I passed by. The paint had already been cleared from his window, and now I saw he was changing up the train sets displayed. The man loved his toys. And I loved my books. I hurried home, knowing that if I wanted to finish the book soon, I needed to do it tonight. This weekend would be filled with Mission Walk events and duties.
Glancing at the clock as I turned out my light that night, I groaned. Two o’clock. Tomorrow was going to come too early, but I patted the cover of the book. I’d read straight through to the last page, and it would be worth the book hangover I’d feel in the morning. I thought about ways we could showcase different biographies in the bookstore window. As I drifted off to sleep, visions of First Lady covers floated in my mind.
My phone blared me awake. I felt for the cell and dragged it to my ear, sitting up as I did. “Hello?”
“Where are you? I’ve had the store open for twenty minutes.” Aunt Jackie’s voice blared into my ear.
I sank backward onto the bed. “It’s Friday. My day off?”
“Not this week, it isn’t. Didn’t you read my e-mail to the entire staff? We have a full house this morning from runners who came in early. Sasha was waiting for me when I arrived.” I heard my aunt ring up an order on the cash register.
“If Sasha’s there, you can’t need me.” No way were there that many people visiting South Cove for a race. I listened as my aunt counted out change for the customer, and then she returned to our conversation.
“Come down here and say that.” The line went silent for a second. “Look, I’m not going to beg, but we really need the help and I don’t want to wake Toby since he just got off his evening patrol.”
I pushed myself up on my elbows. “Don’t call Toby. I’ll be there as soon as I can shower.” I glanced at the clock again—six fifteen. “Give me twenty minutes.”
“You might want to come in the back, the line’s already out the front door.” And then my aunt hung up the phone.
I thought about how many people would have to be in line before it cranked out the entryway and decided against the shower. I’d come home early before the practice walk tonight. I ran downstairs to let out Emma and grabbed a cup of coffee to get me started.
Ten minutes later as I power-walked to the store, I realized my aunt hadn’t been exaggerating. There were people all over South Cove. Diamond Lille’s was packed for breakfast, and people sat on benches with those buzzers in their hands. Since when had Lille invested in a pager system? I picked up my pace, dodging and weaving between people on the sidewalk.
In the park in front of City Hall, someone had draped a Welcome to South Cove sign between two trees. From the time I’d left late afternoon yesterday to now, the town had turned into a hot tourist destination. Flags hung from the streetlights, welcoming runners. As Coffee, Books, and More came into view, I saw what had my aunt frantic for help. The line snaked down past Antiques by Thomas. A steady stream of customers was leaving the store with CBM cups and little white bags filled with pastries from the shop.
Squeezing in between the two buildings, I headed for the back door, pulling my keys out of my pocket as I walked. Throwing my light jacket on the desk, I grabbed an apron and opened the swinging door to the shop. The sound was deafening. People chatted, the coffeemaker churned, and Aunt Jackie rang up another order. I paused next to her. “Where do you want me?”
“Fill up the dessert case, we’re almost empty.” She nodded toward the glass case beside her. “Then bring out more cups. I knew I should have told Sasha to overstock.”
For the next hour, we worked side by side. I refilled the dessert case twice and brought out cups three times. When the line ended and the only customers in the shop were the ones enjoying their breakfast treats at the tables, Sasha leaned toward me.
“I don’t believe I’ll need to stop at the gym tonight.” She wiped the back of her hand across her head. “I didn’t think runners liked treats and things.”
“They have to keep up the calories before a run. They’ve probably been eating brown rice and chicken for the last month. Today, before the race, they get to carb load.” I started cutting another cheesecake to put into the case. I was sure our lull wouldn’t last long.
Aunt Jackie nodded her approval at my action. “You and Sasha get the place set up again. I’m going into the back to sit down.”
I touched her arm with my hand, slowing her movement. “You okay?”
She swatted my hand away. “I’m not that old and infirm. My feet are just killing me. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be fine.”
Sasha watched as my aunt disappeared in the back. “I think she forgot to take her pain pills.”
“What pain pills?” Now I was concerned.
Sasha shrugged. “No big deal. She has arthritis like my mama. We’ve talked about it before, and I gave her the name of Mama’s doctor. He’s really good with getting the pain under control.”
I stared at my newest employee. Sasha had been a participant in the Work Today program during the holidays. Once we’d trained her, we didn’t want to let her go, so Aunt Jackie and I carved out shift times for the young mother. “I didn’t realize she was having problems.”
Sasha stacked more cups near the machine. “She didn’t tell me. I saw the way she walked and told her about my mama and her affliction. Took me a while to convince her to go.”
“Looks like your wall project has finally borne fruit.” Mayor Baylor stood at the counter, glancing at the full dining room. “I knew all along the sanctioning of the South Cove Mission would be a boon for the town. Glad you listened to my counsel.”
Thoughts filled my head as I went through the multiple choices of how to call our honorable mayor a downright dirty liar without causing a scene. Finally Sasha stepped in between us. “You here for your regular, Mayor? What about Amy? Are you taking back a cup for her, as well?”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Not only had the mayor never come into the shop on his own to order coffee, he’d never bought one for Amy, his receptionist. Mayor Baylor waved away the notion. “I’m sure Miss Newman has already had her coffee. Besides, who knows if she’s even still at the desk? According to her, you all are doing some sort of trial run tonight on the greenbelt?”
“I’m sure she hasn’t left yet. We’re meeting there at five. Darla wants a real-life test run. I’m sure she could use more volunteers to set up trash cans or water spots if you and Tina aren’t busy.” I started a large mocha with French vanilla pumps for the man.
He pulled out his wallet and handed Sasha a ten. “Sorry, Tina and I are hosting a small get together tonight for the California Mission Society staff and donors. Black tie over at the winery. Darla’s closed the tasting room to local traff ic, and the event staff is coming in from the city to work.” He held his hand out for the coffee cup. “I guess they only invite people whose sites have been historically finalized. Maybe you’ll be on the list for next year’s event.”
I handed him the cup with a sleeve protector and a napkin wrapped around it so the mayor’s delicate hands wouldn’t be burned by the hot liquid. And then I lied. “Oh, I was invited. I decided that it was more important to ensure that tomorrow’s race goes off without a hitch than drink with people who are only there to be seen as involved.”
Sasha gave the mayor his change. “I think they call that acting locally. Or at least that’s what all the celebrities are saying. Nobody’s going to parties anymore, they’re all too busy doing events like the run.” Her eyes widened. “Do you think we’ll get
any movie stars running? I’ve got Olivia set up with her grandmother tomorrow, so I may just show up early with a camera tucked away in my running shorts.”
“People are not avoiding cocktail parties.” Mayor Baylor raised his shoulders as high as his five-foot-two frame would allow. “Tina and I were at an event last weekend where plenty of actors and celebrities were in attendance.”
Sasha had already stopped listening and was looking at her phone, searching out something. “Here’s an article from the LA Times about the change in celebrities’ social calendars … I hope the Mission Walk can get some good press that way.”
“I’m sure there are still people who like to attend cocktail parties.” I couldn’t think of anyone, except maybe my former coworkers at the law firm, or low-level politicians like Mayor Baylor, but there had to be someone.
The mayor pointed at me with a finger. “You are going to wish you were there. I’ll have my picture taken with all the famous people and e-mail you a copy for Monday morning. Then you’ll be begging for an invite to next year’s event.”
He didn’t wait for an answer to his threat or promise. Sasha sighed as we watched the mayor leave. “If I could find a babysitter, I’d crash that party tonight. I’m sure the mayor’s right, there will be a bunch of famous people wandering through.”
“Don’t tell me you’re starstruck.” I nudged her with my shoulder. “What about all that bluster about the LA article?”
“That’s mostly the older actors who nobody wants to see anyway. Why show up at an event to be ignored? At least this way, they get a bit of attention for the charity aspect.” Sasha nodded to Toby, who had just entered the shop. “Why don’t you head home? I think we can handle the crowds now that Barista Babe is here.”
“Stop calling me that.” Toby sent a pleading look my way. “Can’t you tell her to stop? It’s demeaning.”
“And so true.” I laughed. Sasha was fitting into the family nicely. “Children, stop calling each other names.”
“Mama’s boy,” I heard Sasha mutter under her breath. Then she yelled as a towel snapped her arm. “Hey, that hurts!”