by Elsa Kurt
They parted ways at the elevator, and less than an hour later, William was on the road, back to Chance. Back to Mae, if she’d have him.
Chapter 25
TAKING CHANCES
The café was packed, and Mae, Bruce, and the Petrova twins hustled and bustled about the room and patio with a smooth precision that could only be born of much practice. Trays raised high, heads ducked, side-steps and pivots—the floor could’ve passed for a ballroom were it not for the tables and customers loitering about, oblivious of the effort it took to provide them with the atmosphere they were accustomed to when they came to Mae’s.
This was usually Mae’s favorite time of year. Fall in New England—as far as she was concerned—went unrivaled. The leaves on the sentry of sugar maples lining both sides of Old Main had just begun to turn golden, and the air held the promise of crisp days and chilly nights. However, on that day, summer was not quite ready to give up her reign, and the short sleeves and summer dresses could still be justified.
Outside, the street was lined with artist and vendor tents and balloons, and overhead a long banner declared it the Fifty-Sixth Annual Autumn Fest. A trio of a cappella singers rehearsed on Mae’s patio in between sips of lemon tea and bites of pumpkin scones, and Jilly Jacobson—sans Jack Jacobson—clacked back and forth with a clipboard pressed against her hip and shouted orders into a headset microphone.
Mae stood over the Brightsiders’ table, decaf carafe in mid-pour, when she stopped in her tracks. Her gaze was pulled out the side windows of the café. Bruce was talking with Ricky and Brianna Baker at their table—something about carburetors and radiators—but it sounded far off, like a television on low in another room. Miles breezed by with a blonde on his arm. She heard him say, “Hey, baby Mae,” but it was as distant sounding as the rest. There was a ringing in her ears, and her heart swelled and tightened so that she couldn’t breathe.
“Mae, the singers are ready for their check,” called Melina as she passed by with two coffee pots.
“Mae, I think we need more chives. Are there any left in the garden?” Paulina waited for a second then said, “Never mind, I’ll go look.”
Across the crowded café, through the tall, wide window, the warmest brown eyes she’d ever seen gazed back at her. William. She saw everything he was in those eyes. Hope, regret, fear…love. He was letting her see it all.
“What are you waiting for, dear? Get out there,” admonished Mrs. Brightsider with a twinkle in her eyes.
“I—he—”
“None of that, Mae, my dear. Do as my wise wife said and get out there.” Mr. Brightsider winked.
So, she did. Anyone who knew anything about Mae Huxley and William Grant—and that was pretty much everyone—watched her walk out the side door. At the curb, she stopped, and someone hissed, “Go on, now. Just do it.” It may or may not have been Feather Anne.
They stood on opposite sides of the street. Mae tried to keep her voice steady. “You forget something?”
“You could say that.”
“Oh? Looked like you cleared out pretty well, Mr. Grant.”
William winced a little, and Mae had to force herself not to run to him. He took a step closer, and so did she. They were now off their respective curbs and on the street.
“You have every right to be angry, Mae. I’ve hurt you, and I’m terribly sorry for that.”
“Doesn’t change it, though,” she said bitterly. “I almost told you I loved you that night, and the next morning you were gone.”
He took another step closer. “I’m an old fool, Mae. A coward, if you must know. The truth is, I fell in love with you the moment I walked into that café. I—I’ve been fighting it and denying it ever since.”
She took two steps closer. “But why? Why on earth would you fight something good, William? I don’t understand.” Her voice shook.
He closed the distance between them, took her upturned face in his hands, and said, “Sweet, beautiful Mae, you have so much life ahead of you. How could I expect you to want to stay with a man who’ll be in his sixties when you’re in your prime? What if—”
“I love you, William. You love me. That’s all I need to know. Worry about the future when it gets here. Now kiss me, damn it.”
And he did. From behind the glass of the café window, a muffled cheer filtered out, and they looked back to see a restaurant full of applauding people beaming at them. Mae buried her face in William’s collar, blushing. His laughter vibrated in his chest against Mae’s cheek. It was a sound and sensation she could never tire of.
“Looks like we’ve got an audience, Miss. Huxley. Shall we go inside and sign autographs?”
“Well, if by autographs you mean grab an apron and take some orders, then yes. By the way, Mr. Grant, you’ve missed quite a lot. I’ll fill you in over dinner tonight.” She paused, worry-stricken. “You are staying, right?”
“For as long as you’ll have me, sweetheart.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
Acknowledgements
I have no idea what originally possessed me to take on a six-part series, but from the beginning, I’ve been consumed and enthralled with the lives of these characters. My goal has been to make them as real to the reader as they are to me. I can only hope I’ve succeeded. Big thanks to Jen for humoring and engaging in my incessant talk about Chance and even influencing a complete change in direction on the William and Mae storyline. Sometimes the big ‘ah-ha’ moments come from someone else, I’m just glad I listened. Thank you to my great team of readers for catching my mistakes- Mary Ellen, Carol, Karen, and Jennifer.
Though Chance is a fictional town, I drew strongly on my fondness for my small-town upbringing. I’m so grateful to have grown up with trees to climb, hills to roll down, ponds to catch frogs in and quiet streets to play on. It’s the only life I know and the only one I’ve ever wanted.
Last but not least, thank you to my indie sellers: Book Club Bookstore and More, That Bookstore, She Shed Creations, Created Purpose, and ECO Coffee House for your support.
About the Author
Elsa Kurt is a multi-genre author and speaker. She has written nine novels, several short stories and a book for aspiring and new authors called You Wrote It, Now What? When not writing or sharing her experiences in writing, publishing, and promoting, Elsa can be found gardening or spending quality time with her husband, daughters, and two dogs. To learn more about Elsa and her books, visit elsakurt.com or at @authorelsakurt across social media. Elsa loves to hear from her readers at [email protected].
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