Kick
The Christmas tunes didn’t bother me this afternoon. Not much did, in fact. I bounced around the work area, chatting up our customers, convincing myself my heart wasn’t broken. Anytime a sentimental song came through the speakers with a longing for a loved one at Christmas time, I thought of the new year. I even had to put off thoughts of him every time I made an Americano black. I would get through the holidays first, enjoy the time with my kids, and worry about my heart second. The T-man could wait.
Placing a few drops of a cannabis tincture under my tongue helped. I’d done it as part of the product testing for Hugh’s new venture. I had read up on a line that gave caffeine a run for its money when it came to focus. Should I have added it to my regimen without consulting my doctor? Probably not. But I waited two hours after taking my morning pills and was reasonably confident it would help, not hurt, my performance. I made sure there was nothing in the mixture to cause impairment, surprised by how much research was being done on the stuff.
Presently, it was time for Deana to end her shift and collect her grandbabies after school. It felt like old times and gave me another reason to look forward to January. Not much longer until I could reintroduce foods in earnest and begin the ending of my detox protocol.
Deana gave me a hug and air kiss before pouring herself a travel mug to go. With no customers currently waiting, she said, “Can you save some time for me tomorrow?”
“Will lunch work? I plan to do next month’s schedule and get ahead of paperwork before I take my time off.”
“Sounds perfect.”
I studied Deana for a moment, trying to decipher what she wanted. She never made mysterious appointments with me. Her visage gave nothing away though I suspected she planned to bring up Thomas and someone’s pride. I gave her my sweetest smile. As long as we discussed how proud he was, I didn’t mind. “Have a great evening.”
I had switched the holiday playlist to punk Christmas songs—I couldn’t take the heartstring-pulling anymore—when the door chime announced a new customer.
“And here’s the delinquent star of our recent chamber of commerce meetings.” I heard Big Jonn Graham before I turned around and saw him. He always played life that way. He leaned on the counter as if he was getting ready to tell me a secret. “Been wondering if you were hiding.”
Considering he found me in my coffeehouse, the man hadn’t looked hard or for long. He spoke with his grandiose, old-timey, politician-like accent. I almost laughed but behaved. I knew it for what it was—a harkening back to a certain age when former Yankees, like myself, didn’t occupy all the empty farmland around town.
I gave him a half-assed grin and waited to hear his order or what he really wanted. However, Big Jonn simply stared back like he expected me to explain my whereabouts. If he wanted to throw me off-kilter, it worked. Plenty of people were members in name only. Not to mention, after what happened on Halloween, I didn’t think I’d see a Graham walk through my doors anytime soon, if ever again.
I held a sharp gaze on him and calmly said, “I’ve had doctor’s appointments. I’ll attend meetings after the new year when they’re all through.” Shit. A shiver of disappointment traveled down my spine. I should’ve simply said appointments or meetings. Looking weak in front of this man had never been a wise thing, especially now. I didn’t blame him for his son’s behavior. Hell, my oldest had jumped into a world of trouble in response to Shane’s death. In the past, I’d felt empathy for Big Jonn’s plight. Not anymore.
He reached out and touched the top of my hand, making me flinch. I mentally slapped myself again, hoping it wasn’t noticeable. I knew he caught it by the sad smirk on his face, and I almost missed his next remark.
“I came into y’all’s shop, hoping to make a peace offering. I’d like to buy gift cards for my crew. From all the to-go cups dotting our job sites, I can tell they love y’all’s coffee,” he said, then lowered his voice. “Then our families can put the messiness of our disagreements behind us.”
His face looked so sincere I kind of believed him. A part of me desperately wanted this all to be over and ached to believe him. But was he crazy? I mean, come on.
I picked up a new rag and wiped at the counter. “The situation of your son’s house arrest makes it a tad hard to drop. The police wouldn’t stop the process if I asked them to anyway. Young Jonn broke laws. It’ll go a long way if your lawyer allows him to confess to the attack on my shop though. I wouldn’t care if he pleads to lesser charges as long as it ends quickly too.”
“Attack?” He tsked. “My boy’s been a handful since his mama passed, but this?”
“Mr. Graham…” It struck me how a man my age could successfully have me feeling like a mindless girl. Then again, growing up with the hostility in my mother’s family, I knew how to spot the buildup of a gaslighting. Downplaying the attacks on me and mine, as if I’d blown things out of proportion in my head, was a classic move. I wouldn’t argue the merits of the evidence with him.
“Jonn, I don’t think you should be here.” I moved my hand toward the under-counter alarm and hovered my finger at the button. He raised his hands in mocked surprise. “Ho there, darlin’. Aren’t you jumpy? I’m starting to see where you’re coming from now.”
“What’re you talking about?” I clipped.
“My apologies for prying, and I honestly hope I don’t sound rude…” I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. “I heard about the breakup.” He rubbed his stubbly chin. “It’s a bad time of year to be alone. Bet it’s got you edgy.”
Edgy? He had no clue and almost had me laughing again. I smiled as I shook my head, determined to keep him at bay while not wanting to anger him. It wouldn’t help my case if I threw another Graham out of my store.
He thumbed through a display of beaded bookmarks Cyndi had for sale by the register. “You and I have a lot in common.”
“True, but—”
“Let me take you to dinner. One dinner, darlin’.”
I didn’t like the way he used the same endearment Thomas had. Big Jonn made it sound condescending instead of endearing.
Before I could turn him down, he continued, “A while ago, I offered to help you get your diner back on its feet.”
“Coffeehouse—”
“Sure. Anyway, I can still speak with the editor at the Oakville Mirror for you if it helps. We could strategize a plan over Italian.” He patted what I admit was a very fit stomach. “Nothing like great lasagna to let a man think, right?” Big Jonn laughed and winked at me. This man was built as if he worked right alongside his crew members, though I didn’t see where he’d have the time with all the schmoozing he did around town. Still, he couldn’t hold a candle to Thomas—well, the Thomas who cared. There was more to handsomeness than physical attributes.
I didn’t realize he had continued speaking. “…No matter what my son witnessed, the success of our town is still important to me. And… I have to say… you look a little overwhelmed.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled. Wiping the counter had lost its therapeutic aspects. “I can appreciate where you’re coming from, Jonn—”
“Big Jonn.”
“Right. Still, I don’t think the Assistant DA would approve of you being here. Young Jonn isn’t allowed near the Perked Cup or me, but I can’t remember if it applies to his family. I could call…” I reached for my phone, thinking Big Jonn might go quietly if he watched me dial.
“Well, now,” he purred and smiled sweetly. “There’s nothing to worry about, is there? I’m simply doing some last-minute Christmas shopping and prefer to spend my money locally.”
The bell rang again, and a young couple entered. They queued up patiently, waiting their turns to order and laughing at something on his phone. The addition of two potential witnesses relaxed me, and I let out a loud exhale.
“Okay. How many gift cards should I ring up? It’s a thoughtful idea, Mr. Graham.”
With a sigh, he gave me the number and muttered, “Here I was hoping to start fresh in the spirit of the season. Let the shenanigans become water under the bridge. Maybe talk more about a partnership.”
His words were smooth, but Jaysus, he made the hairs on my neck stand straight up. “The thing is”—I looked down at my feet—“from where I stand, my toes are still soaked by your bridge water.”
Graham paid for the cards and tucked them in his coat pocket. “Then I’ll say an extra prayer for our families. It’s our Lord’s birthday after all.”
“Go right ahead.” I hung my head and shook it, relieved to see him finally step away from the counter.
He turned and sauntered out the door, humming “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” when it wasn’t even playing in the coffeehouse.
My body shook from the pent-up adrenaline. Breathe, Kick. In for four… hold for four… out for five. I lifted my head and smiled at the young couple.
“Hey there. What can I get you two?”
As if my adrenal glands hadn’t been through the wringer already, the fight or flight response spiked again a while later. Alone in the dining room again, a group of kids approached and rushed through the front door. They wore their hoodies up with sunglasses and bandannas covering their faces. A group of unabombers had descended upon my café, and I was sure this time would be the end. My heart pounded out a dirge as I checked the drive-thru area, making sure Crystal was safely out of sight.
My finger hovered over the emergency button as the kids all dropped their hoods in unison. Next came the bandannas and glasses, and I let out a long exhale. They were some of my high school regulars.
My hand flew to my heart to calm the staccato beats. “Hi guys. Why the hell are you dressed like robbers?”
Each one turned to the next, then back at me. “We didn’t think about that,” the first boy said with a shrug. “We’re in disguise.”
“We couldn’t be seen coming in here,” another added.
I blinked at them as I tucked a curl behind my ear. “Whyever not?”
A third explained, “Yeah. Our parents think you’re brainwashing us, but we like studying here. Gabe here”—he pointed at the first boy—“is our tutor. He toots really good. And the school librarian is a bi—”
A fourth one—a girl—jabbed the boy in his side. “Tutors don’t toot, dumbass, they tutor.”
The boys scrunched his nose. “You make absolutely no sense.”
The first boy—Gabe—smiled and said, “She’s right.”
“Tragic.”
The girl jumped back into the conversation. “Anyway… It’s easier to study here, Mrs. Mack. My grades tanked after we were grounded from you. Please don’t tell anyone we came by. Can we get drinks and stay in the corner if we’re quiet?”
Grounded from me? The words wouldn’t make sense even though I knew exactly what she meant.
“Of course you can study here. Can’t guarantee you won’t get in trouble, but I won’t say anything. You know I work hard to give you guys a safe place to study.”
“Exactly,” the second boy said. “We told our parents the same thing, but they think we’ve already been… what’s the word?”
“Indoctrinated,” the girl answered.
JaysusMaryandJoseph. Counting breaths wouldn’t help this one, so I raised my arms over my head and stretched my back. Time to roll with it. I stood at the register and swung the tablet around. “I assume your numbers are in here. Want to enter them and I’ll get your orders going?”
Ha! Take that, Thomas and Siobhan. I had two huge hurdles and handled them myself. Thomas had sent more messages about the protesters, but I knew better than to let myself get strung along. The whole breakup-and-stay-friends thing never flew with me. Like slowly removing a Band-Aid one hair at a time, it not only prolonged the pain, it magnified it.
And Siobhan? She had been bugging me, stressing the need for a bodyguard. When I pressed her for a reason, she gave me vague answers about the investigation from the club. Well, missy, I had proved I didn’t need one. The protesters did their worst and it backfired. The people who mattered knew me and my business. Okay, Siobhan had mentioned online death threats, but what woman hasn’t experienced horrible behavior on social media? Case in point, my daughter. I shivered with anger at the thought of what she had recently been through. If she wanted to go to Broadway, though, she’d have to toughen her skin too.
Most of my after-school kids paid for their orders with credit cards, so it surprised me when they all placed cash on the counter. I tilted my head in question.
The first boy said, “Our parents track our purchases.”
Right. Smart kids. Adjust and shift.
Wasn’t that what I was doing too? Again, I’d thought about how my life plan had been heading one way and hit a dead end. Well, I could do some adjusting too. I took away one big lesson from my experience with Thomas: I knew I could move ahead with someone else. In fact, I looked forward to it. But maybe this time next year, after Liam left for college. When I had time for myself.