Kick
Darlene Love serenaded the café with holiday classics while I filled coffee orders. I had opened for Deana, and the rush gave me a bit of an energy lift. Thanks to stress and the lack of sunlight, sleep had more or less taken its own vacation since Thomas had walked out on me. I took a second to sip from my decaf almond-milk latte. The americanos would have to wait until I could reintroduce them after the new year. Until then, I drank the decaf while inhaling the rich aromas surrounding me and pretended.
When Ms. Love pleaded with her baby to “please come home” for the holiday, my energy nose-dived. Stupid Christmas songs. This particular song hadn’t bothered me for years. Then again, it wasn’t Shane I pined for presently.
I told myself I was perfectly fine. He-who-must-be-forgotten and I had dodged the bullet, not going any further. Still, I missed his touch, his fine ass filling out a pair of jeans, his arrogant saunter, his gentle kiss. I wanted the rough, demanding kisses he’d given me too.
I missed our conversations most of all, the way his accent had sounded like home in such a short time and the way he made me feel like the only person in a room. Then there was the dancing… Jayz, I loved dancing with someone again.
After Darlene Love made a run of “pleases” and a last beg to come back, I set a filled cup of coffee down on the counter a bit too hard. Actually, I slammed it down and splashed it over one of my regulars.
“Ack! Mrs. Salmaan, I’m so sorry.” Grabbing a rag, I dabbed at her ruined sleeve. “This is so embarrassing. I-I never—”
She leaned in to catch my wild gaze. “It’s all right, dear. I’m fine.”
I filled a fresh cup and gingerly passed it to her, then took a twenty-dollar bill from the register. “Here, no charge today. This is to clean your pretty blouse.”
“No, Mrs. Mack. Keep your money. I can fix it myself, no problem.”
I tried to check on her skin under the cuff. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine. Truly. We all have man troubles from time to time.” Mrs. Salmaan lifted her cup and blew into the opening.
“Excuse me? You don’t think my jitters have to do with”—I lowered my voice and leaned in—“those articles about me?”
“Pfft.” She waved her free hand. “No one I know believes such nonsense.” She gave me a wise, gentle smile. “In my experience, a woman in your state has a man on her mind. Whatever it is, you should fix it. That’s all I’ll say.” She dipped her chin at me. “I hope your day improves, and don’t worry about the spill.”
Mrs. Salmaan shuffled out the door before I could explain there was no fixing my situation, which was a good thing. I didn’t want to argue with her, and I didn’t know if I could hold my tongue either.
But hey, I didn’t go from Professor Jekyll to Mr. Hyde at the gala. I didn’t give up and walk out without a decent explanation. I hadn’t gone radio silent either. Okay, maybe I did, but in my mind, it was up to Thomas to make the extra effort. I deserved one fecking great apology. No… a grovel. I’d take an amazing grovel. Hell, I gave him all my cards when I had come clean about Shane’s accident. Yet Thomas had the nerve to still keep his tight to his chest.
There was one positive thing to take from the experience. I was pretty sure… No, I was certain my desire to love again had been stirred. Stirred? More like an outboard motor dipped itself into my lake of desire and let her rip. So if Thomas wasn’t the right man for me, universe, show me the honey.
Such was the mantra running on a loop in my head. Still, my heart had a new hole—a roughly six-foot-tall hole, with a fabulous ass and sexy cleft chin.
My next customer stepped up to the counter. Before I could ask for her order, she gestured toward the door with her thumb. “Mrs. Salmaan was right, you know. No one believes those ridiculous rumors. In fact, I think some protesters were paid.”
“Sure.” I chuckled and tucked a curl behind my ear. When I looked up, the rest of the line was nodding their heads along with my customer. “Thank you, Mrs. Tan.”
Come to think of it, business had picked up since my rebuttal interview and afternoon promotion had been printed. The editor had done everything but retract the opinion articles. According to my contact at the paper, my lawyer had done a great job threatening them with a libel lawsuit. I hadn’t contacted a lawyer, however. I’d bet money on who did though. Blast that man. I hated him for thinking he could dump me and take care of me at the same time. “For my safety,” my ass.
“You should know I come by here every time I go out so those bastards won’t shut you down. Our neighborhood needs you. Shoot, our whole town does.”
I bit my lip to keep from crying. When I looked at the line again, their heads kept bowing. Some added in an “I do the same thing,” along with other words of encouragement. I think I inhaled deeply for the first time in several days.
I called out, “You people are the best. As my thank-you to this town, I declare today a free coffee day. It’s all on me.”
I checked with Crystal in the drive-thru. “Make sure drive-thru orders receive our gratitude too.”
“Absolutely. You’re fantastic, Mrs. Mack.”
I laughed at Crystal’s enthusiasm. The girl didn’t need caffeine in the morning. She made her own energy.
Shortly after the rush, Deana sauntered into the café, singing a gospelly carol. As much as my customers had lifted my spirits, I couldn’t believe someone who had just had her girls smashed until they were practically see-through could be gospel-Christmas-song cheery. I did a double take as she walked up to me after taking a minute in her office.
“You look dead. Still not sleeping?”
I answered, “Nope” as I wiped down the counter.
“Why don’t you spend some time in the back? Get a little rest. You’re not supposed to come back full time for another two weeks.”
I rubbed at a spill on the bar as if I could also make the pain go away by scrubbing the cloth hard enough. “Okay, Mahalia. But I’m off tomorrow for my last IV treatment. I’ll be fine.”
“Kick, sugar, don’t wear yourself out and get sick before your trip. You’ll be mad at yourself if you can’t enjoy those kids.”
“No worries.” Even I could tell my soldiering-on smile didn’t reach past my upper lip. “It’s all good.”
“Who you convincing?” She clicked her tongue. “The professor hasn’t reached out, has he?”
“Not since the voice mail about the protesters. I guess someone at Angel Security told him about it. I don’t think he’ll call again.”
“Heyyy”—she drawled until it was a six-syllable word—“stop this pride.”
Pride? Was she kidding? I shrugged as I continued wiping. “Thomas had a point, Dee. Granted, I’m not sure what his point was, but he did both of us a favor.”
Deana carefully took the rag from me and placed it over a towel bar to dry. “You don’t need this added stress. It’s been a challenging enough fall.”
I laughed at her last words. “I should’ve known though. It’s been so long since I had a man in my life. I thought it’d be butterflies and rainbows if I ever jumped back in. I had forgotten how a relationship is mostly stress.”
She reached for my shoulder and squeezed it. “Have a little faith. I believe in you two. There’s magic in the air when you’re together.”
I growled, not wanting to think about our magic. “The only thing I know for sure is it takes both parties to be in a relationship. Only one has to leave for it to be over.”
“A fight isn’t necessarily the end, Kick. Even a big one.”
My hands needed something to do, so I adjusted my ponytail, then folded my arms, hoping it made me look stronger than I felt. She was right about the nap. “It wasn’t a fight, Dee. It was a blindside.” I vigorously shook my head, trying to make the memory of his cruel words go away. A hard shell had erected around my heart since you-know-who had walked out. Unfortunately, it numbed me out to everything, but it beat crying. Besides, he walked out, not me. Feck all if I would get on my knees.
“Call Thomas tonight if you don’t hear from him first. Do it for me. Gordon thinks you should too.”
I laughed. Deana knew the depths of my fondness for her husband. “Well, if Gordon says so…,” I drawled. “I’ll think about it after the nap.”
“Promise?”
I rolled my eyes and sighed my acquiescence. Anything to get her to stop talking. “Pinky swear.” I probably wouldn’t have any energy anyway—
“Not good enough. You need to Oprah swear.”
“Seriously?” I leaned against the counter. Only ten minutes in the café and the woman exhausted me. The nap didn’t whisper to me. It screamed in my head like a cranky toddler in a department store.
Deana answered with an evil side-eye that I was sure still terrified her children. For a moment I was afraid she’d fire me if I didn’t obey.
“The man was adamant about his desire to break up.”
“Pfft.” Her hand plopped on her hip like it had its own mind. “Men are emotional creatures.”
I barked a laugh at her turn of a usually misogynistic phrase.
“Truly.” A customer came in, saving me from the grilling. “Go,” she ordered. “We’ll finish later.”
I couldn’t wait.
Deana did pick it up later. After a power nap, we buzzed through the lunch rush, keeping the free coffee going. Word must have traveled fast because we worked almost right up until the high school let out. We had about fifteen minutes for a lunch break and ate in our favorite corner of the dining room to monitor things.
In between bites of a chicken wrap, Deana picked up the conversation as if it wasn’t hours later. “You know, you freaked out on him because you had unresolved feelings for Shane. I’ll tell you, Thomas hung in there. He knew something was wrong with you, and when you called to explain, he practically came running.”
I sighed, fearing she’d finally found the one argument that could work.
“Gordon thinks his voice mail was a ‘man’s apology’.”
“Does he?” I sipped on my iced cardamom tea. “Dee, I begged him to tell me what was wrong. It’s obvious something ate at him. But he wouldn’t budge. What about my self-respect?”
“Granted, it sounds immature.” She took a long pull on her drink and snapped her fingers. “Is this about your age differences again? I swear, you may not feel like it now, but you look as young as he does.”
“No,” I snapped. Jaysus, would anybody listen? “Since you brought it up—sort of—what about my illness? Maybe the days apart got me thinking—”
“Lord Jesus—”
“Stop. I’m serious.” After wiping my hands, I brushed back a curl. I didn’t want to admit it, but truth was truth. “Maybe it’s better to not tie him down with my illness. I didn’t know I had an autoimmune disease lurking when I dated Shane.”
“But you’re doing fine. You’ve made so much progress this fall.” She pointed a finger at me. “How do you know it isn’t on account of meeting the professor? At least a little.”
I nodded my head, considering the merit of her argument. “I’m doing better—now and hopefully for a long time—but I can’t stop the clock. Healthy or not, aging has its own problems. I don’t want to take away Thomas’s best years with him saddled as a caregiver.”
“You think Thomas won’t age? What if you get better and end up having to take care of him? Hmm? Plenty of young men get sick.”
“You’re not helping.”
“Because all I hear are excuses.”
Aw, hell. Was she right? Thoroughly confused, I didn’t know whether to cut a latte or pour a piece of cake. I craved peace. I thought it would come from Thomas, but…
“Give me time to think. If I don’t hear from him before the holiday, I’ll call Thomas in the New Year. Something preoccupied his mind during the gala, and his emergency trip had to be part of it. At the very least, we both need time to cool off.” I lifted a hopeful shoulder. “Maybe we can salvage something when he gets back.”
I knew I couldn’t handle hearing the coldness in Thomas’s voice again, and I hoped the downtime would help me grow a pair of ovaries by the time he returned.