Lucy wove her way down a busy sidewalk in downtown Ashtown, Georgia, darting out of the way of one particularly boisterous child.
“This was a mistake,” she mumbled to herself.
No one heard her. No one even noticed her. Still, she would have felt so much better if she’d donned a disguise. Maybe a set of those joke glasses with the giant schnoz and bushy mustache. Ooh, if she’d owned a red trench coat, she could have gone full-on Carmen Sandiego. Hell, she would have settled for a baseball cap and a pair of oversized sunglasses. Something, anything to feel less conspicuous.
Not that a disguise would have made a bit of difference. After a decade away, she doubted if anyone in Ashtown remembered her. If they did, none of them would ask the questions that really filled their minds. Though Lucy had the answers already prepared.
No, you haven’t seen me in a while. Watching your parents brutally killed has a way of making a person want to hit the road.
Then, once the pleasantries of her parents’ gruesome deaths had been covered, they could move on to lighter fare. Such as, say, how Lucy’s life was crumbling around her.
No, I didn’t know you owned a law firm and had three perfect brats. Me? Nope, no kids. No husband or boyfriend either. No job, no friends, no future. Yup, I’ve got it all figured out.
In reality, Lucy had nothing. Other than the hard lesson she’d learned—once accused of business misdealing, a person was forever damned. Guilty or not. At least, in the corporate world. Any hopes of climbing the corporate ladder were futile and it was hard to wash a resume of that kind of stain.
For some idiotic reason, she’d thought coming home to Ashtown might bring her some comfort. Maybe even a little closure. Except her only memories of the small town centered around family camping trips to the nearby mountains. One trip in particular and one night she’d spent the last ten years trying to forget. For better or worse, she was back. Might as well check out how the town had changed.
Main Street remained the same. Some of the stores were different, but the potholes in the road were just as large as she recalled. The city council probably didn’t want them too fixed or it might encourage speeding. It was just like a small town to leave potholes instead of investing in speed bumps.
Across the street, a familiar red awning hung over the place her parents had taken her every week for ice cream. Now the storefront boasted artisanal vegan and gluten-free baked goods. The corner store she and her friends had stopped at for candy after school now displayed a wide variety of essential oils and vape pens in the window. Even the antique stores had fallen prey to the evils of the current trends. Instead of beautiful Victorian furniture, they mostly seemed to offer vintage record players, old box-style cameras, and weird tubs of mustache wax.
Ashtown had turned into hipster heaven! No wonder all the young men with unusually long, perfectly groomed beards and the skinny, young women wearing mismatched shoes and horn-rimmed glasses were looking at her funny. With her full figure crammed into mom jeans and a boring white t-shirt, she must have looked like an alien to them.
Just get the hell out of Dodge, her brain insisted. The temptation to high-tail it back to her car and head for her grandmother’s house two hours away was strong, but her need to continue her tour of her old stomping grounds was even stronger. Besides, she wasn’t about to be run out of her hometown by a bunch of fashion failures.
She just needed a break from all the absurd hipness surrounding her. Up ahead, like a beacon shining through thick fog, a sign she recognized caught her eye. It hadn’t changed at all, maybe a little faded, just like Lucy. Beans, her favorite little coffee shop when she’d been sixteen-going-on-twenty-six. It sported the same green awning and dozens of flyers for local events plastered the window. Pushing the door open, the same silly chime rang out, announcing her arrival.
The older lady behind the counter stood with her back turned to Lucy while she blended something in an old-fashioned milkshake machine. A beefy guy with flowers braided into his beard and the prettiest pink Hello Kitty roller skates leaned against the counter waiting.
“Extra flaxseed oil, if you can,” he said.
The woman bobbed her white cotton candy-topped head and then poured the concoction into the guy’s reusable mug before setting it on the counter. Wiping her hands on her apron, she smiled placidly and told him the price.
Lucy nearly choked. Taking into account sales tax, that funky smelling shake had cost the guy fifteen bucks. And he actually appeared pleased about it! As he skated past her toward the door, a piece of straw stuck firmly between his lips, she couldn’t help gawking after him for a second.
“Well, look who the cat dragged in,” said a raspy voice behind her. “Lucy Morgan, as I live and breathe.”
Turning, she greeted her old friend with a smile. “It’s good to see you, Miss Violet.”
Miss Violet Beauregard had aged as well as her coffee shop. That is to say, barely at all. Maybe a few more wrinkles and a little more white in her hair, but overall, she was the very picture of a sweet Southern lady.
Lucy approached the counter, glancing at the menu board bolted to the wall before refocusing on Vi. She hugged Vi awkwardly across the counter. “And here I thought this was the one place in town that hadn’t changed.”
Vi shook her head and sighed. “Don’t get me started, sugar. But,” she shrugged, “if people want cat poop coffee, I’m happy to charge them for it.”
Lucy gasped. “That… can’t be a thing. Can it?”
Vi nodded toward a couple canoodling in the corner, noses buried in their phones as they sipped from their reusable mugs. “You should ask them. They like to call it kopi luwak, but I just call it cat poop coffee and charge ‘em extra for it.”
“Um…” Lucy wrinkled her nose and scanned the menu board for something a little less exotic.
“Don’t worry, honey-pie,” Vi reached for a ceramic mug. “I still have regular ol’ coffee that’ll put hair on your chest, just for locals. It’ll cost you a buck, though. Afraid inflation is inflation.”
“Sounds perfect,” Lucy flashed a grin and dug in her pocket for a couple of bucks—one for the coffee and one for the tip jar.
“You got it, sugar.” Vi caught Lucy’s gaze as she poured. “So, what do you think of all the changes around here since you left?”
Lucy searched for the right words that would convey her conflicted emotions without sounding rude. “There sure are a lot more vintage record stores than when I was a kid.”
“Comic book stores too,” Vi added with a wry chuckle. “Antiquing sure has changed, hasn’t it? But we’ve still got the best of the best. Last month, we were voted one of the top ten antiquing destinations in the entire country.”
“Wow, that’s impressive.”
Vi shrugged and held out the steaming cup of black coffee. “Don’t get too excited. It was on Hipstermania.com.”
Lucy laughed as she took the cup from Vi and tried to hand her some money. Except, the woman waved it away, her hair floating around her head in a cloud as she shook it.
“Consider it a welcome home gift. But don’t get any big ideas.” Vi narrowed her eyes in a mock-glare, lips twitching. “Next time, you’re paying full price.”
Lucy grinned. “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Violet.”
Rounding the corner, Vi ushered her to a nearby table and sat across from her. “How long are you in town?”
Lucy dropped her gaze to her coffee and took long sip to stall. “I, um… I’m not sure. I just came to check on my parents’ house.”
“Well, if you get a chance, you really should pop into some of the newer shops. Most of it’s not my thing, but you’re young and ‘with it,’ or whatever the kids call it these days.”
“I certainly wouldn’t say I’m ‘with it,’ especially considering everything I saw in the windows made me want to throw a brick through them.”
Vi laughed so loud she drew the attention of the cat poop-swilling couple. Though not for long because two seconds later, they were back to scanning their phones.
“Well, I can’t argue with you there. What no one can argue with is that, ugly kitsch or not, Ashtown hasn’t had a boom like this for as far back as I can remember. And my memory is excellent.”
“That’s great to hear,” Lucy was genuinely happy her hometown was doing so well.
“And it’s all the doing of Mason Blackwood. You remember him?” Vi gave her a curious glance over her bifocals, a small smile twitching her withered lips.
Lucy frowned. “I don’t know Mason, but the name Blackwood sounds familiar. Kinda reminds me of a couple guys from high school, but they must have been his brothers.”
The Blackwoods had been the hot, popular guys and Lucy… had not.
“They’re good boys. They’ve been instrumental in growing Ashtown, but it was Mason’s work with the Park Service that really helped. He developed a wonderful hiking trail system through the woods that brought a lot of people to town, and then word spread about all the other wonderful things we offer. Those hipster and outdoorsy types flocked here.”
At Lucy’s strained smile, Miss Violet gasped and reached for Lucy’s hand.
Vi’s eyes opened wide at the mention of the woods. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean—”
“No worries.” Lucy took another drink.
Awkward silence stretched out between them for a few seconds before Vi cleared her throat and tried again, bless her heart.
“How’s Tessa doing? I sure do miss her. You too.”
Lucy’s shoulders relaxed. “Grandma’s still as feisty as ever. I’ve been staying with her recently, and I tell you, she’s still pretty spry. Although I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about not being there for her right now.”
Vi leveled a mock-glare at her. “I’ll have you know your grandmother and I are the same age. We might look like dinosaurs, but that doesn’t mean we need to be supervised like toddlers.”
“Oh, trust me, I know.” Lucy released a soft laugh and her smile widened. “It’s not her I’m worried about. My friend Ally is staying with her while I’m gone, and God only knows what fresh hell Grandma is putting her through. Ally is a bit of an introvert.”
Vi snorted. “I hope your friend has some thick skin.”
“If she didn’t before, she will by the time I get home. Of course, considering Grandma’s taste for prying into business that is very much not hers, it’s quite likely Ally has already locked herself in the bathroom and is refusing to come out.”
Vi laughed heartily, irritating the hipsters in the corner. Actual live conversation must have been more than they’d bargained for when they decided to visit a coffee shop.
“Either that or she’s on a flight halfway around the world,” Vi quipped.
They sat and chatted—gossiped, actually—for a good ten minutes before new customers wandered in. This time a trio of young women sporting wildly colored hair and carrying hula hoops. Miss Violet glanced at them and sighed quietly.
“Welcome to the asylum,” she whispered as she stood. “Better go help them, but please come back and see me again before you leave town.”
Lucy promised she would and then headed outside to resume her walk. Cars whizzed past and she couldn’t help thinking the city council’s apparent plan to use potholes as speeding deterrents wasn’t working out so well.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, the ear-splitting scream of a child in pain filled the air. A flash of grief swelled inside her chest, thoughts of her parents rushing forward. The cry reminded her of her own scream during the attack on them. She’d been paralyzed with terror that night, but she wasn’t a clueless teenager now. She hadn’t done anything back then, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to make that mistake again.