The Fourteen Day Soul Detox, Volume Two (9 page)

Cameron:
A
sad dream, I just needed to check in.

Me:
Oh,
well, I’m fine, Sarah’s fine, just about to head to
school. You okay?

Cameron:
Yeah.
Are you going to have a moment to talk today? I have some stuff I
want to talk to you about.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes
on the exhale. A single tear dropped from my lashes and slowly made
its way down my cheek. I wiped it away.

Me:
I
was thinking of closing the shop early today anyway; want to just
come by at your usual time?

Cameron:
Sounds
good, I’ll see you then.

I reread the entire text conversation
before stowing my phone in my purse.

Sarah’s bedroom door opened and
she walked out of her room.

“Did you brush your teeth?”
I asked her as she walked through the living room toward the
breakfast nook.

“Yes,” she said, opening
her mouth in a big, exaggerated way.

“Ha, ha, okay, go eat your
breakfast,” I told her. I brushed out her tangles as she ate,
ignoring her glares and grumbles.

“Alright, bus time,” I told
her after she finished her yogurt.

I walked over to the door and hoisted
the duffle bag and sports bag.

After unlocking the door, I cracked it
open, and peered around it. Clarke’s yard appeared to be empty.
Without making a sound, I led Sarah out into the mist, making sure to
lock my door after we exited.

The thick mist rested on the ground,
leaving only what was a couple feet in front of us clear. We walked
up the path to stand in front of one of my neighbor’s cars. A
glance over my shoulder told me Clarke’s car was now in its
assigned space.

“Aunt Beza is going to pick you
up from class today, baby. We’re going to spend the night at
aunt Beza and Aunt Susan. You and me are both going to spend the
night there.”

“I love you so much, Mom,”
Sarah told me.

“I love you so much too, angel.”
I gave her a quick kiss on the top of the head as the growl of the
school bus’s engine approached.

The bus pulled up in front of us, and
when the doors swung open, the loud voices of a bunch of children
speaking sounded out from the doors.

“Hey Henry,” I said, as the
bus driver looked down at us.

“Morning Jamie. Another loud
morning,” he said.

Sarah walked up the steps to the bus,
turning and walking away from us down the aisle.

“I think it’ll be okay. She
had a really good morning,” I told him.

“Alright then,” he said,
looking back over his shoulder and into the bus. He turned to me.
“You have a great day.”

“You too,” I said as the
doors closed.

The rows of kids passed by as the
school bus returned into the fog.

Turning away from my apartment, I
started the much longer path around the entire section of duplexes.
The eucalyptus trees lining the sidewalk dropped leaves, fluttering
down around me. I plucked one from the air and inhaled its strong
scent. My gaze darted around the empty street. The street lights were
still lit, the fog clearly outlining their path.

I examined each parking spot and the
spaces between them as I made my way to my car. When I reached my
car, I jumped in, locked the doors and drove out of the parking lot.

Turning the radio on to a classic rock
station, I sang along at the top of my lungs until I parked alongside
the mural of Jack climbing the beanstalk. Walking up the sidewalk, I
stopped before the tree that stretched out its branches in front of
my shop. Nestled among its big, green, heart-shaped leaves were three
stubborn blossoms. The street showed no trace of the buds that had so
recently splattered the sidewalks.

I turned to the store and unlocked the
door.

“Morning sunshine!” Chris
called out from behind the counter the moment I stepped inside.

“Morning moonshine,” I
called back.

“I wish! Everything’s ready
if you want to open her up,” Chris called.

I flipped over our sign from open to
closed and said, “Ta, da.” Walking behind the counter, I
put on a clean apron and washed my hands.

“So, I have big news,” I
said while my gaze was still glued to the hot, soapy water on my
hands.

Chris stepped up next to the sink, and
I had to look up at him. “You’re pregnant,” he
said.

“Shut up! Don’t even say
those things out loud!” I told him, splashing him with soapy
water when he started laughing.

“I’m sorry, I actually
thought you were going to say that.” He wiped his face off with
a rag and threw it in the bin designated for dirty rags.

“No, I’m not pregnant. I’m
taking your advice,” I said. “And I’m going to…”
I choked up.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Chris
said, wrapping me in a hug. “I already knew, Susan called me.”

I hugged him back. “That
busybody. I can never make my own freaking announcements.”

“Well, for what it’s worth,
I’m proud of you,” he said, stepping back and giving me a
grin.

“It’s worth a lot. But I
haven’t actually done anything yet. I’m going to close
the shop early today, as soon as the breakfast rush is over. I need
to get all my paperwork together.”

The bell over the door dinged and I
turned to see our first customer walk in the door.

“Mind if I start on the register
today? I’m trying to resist temptation,” I said.

Chris beamed, holding a hand out toward
the register. “Be my guest.”

I stepped up as a middle-aged woman
stopped before the register.

“Good morning. What can I get
you?” I asked.

Her gaze was fixed on the completely
full pastry display case. Scones, muffins, Danishes and croissants
lined up in perfect rows from the glass in the front to the mirrors
in the back.

“Are any of these gluten free?”
she asked, her gaze still intent on the pastries.

“Um, Chris, do we have any
gluten-free pastries today?”

“Yeah, the savory and sweet
scones on the far right. They should be labeled,” he said.

“Hey Chris, I didn’t see
you back there,” the middle-aged woman said as she beamed over
at Chris.

“Good morning,” he sang,
“Can I get a drink started for you?”

“Double shot skinny latte,”
she said.

“For here or to go?” he
asked.

“Oh, to go, please,” she
said.

“Great,” he said, marking
it on a cup.

“Anything to eat? We also have
gluten-free bagels,” I told her.

“I’ll take the savory
scone,” she ordered with a wide smile.

By the time I rang her up, a line had
formed behind her, the bell ringing every few minutes. I moved
between the cash register and the bagel station in the back as The
Coffee Spot filled with customers. When there was a break in the
line, I bussed tables and wiped them down quickly so new customers
could sit.

“This is killing me,” I
said as I stood over a large carafe refilling with coffee. I inhaled
the fresh coffee scent as I watched the stream pour down.

“You’re not drinking
coffee?”

“Susan says that I’m
disgustingly addicted and I’ll never be healthy until I cut
down.”

“Cruel woman. But you can still
drink some coffee?”

“I’m allowed small doses
once I’ve proven I’m not addicted,” I said.

“Why are you letting her control
you?”

“That’s a seriously good
question. I hate authority.” I heaved a sigh. “I’ve
just never been very good at…structure. So, I guess I’m
borrowing her ability to get stuff done.”

“Whatever works.” He held
up his hands.

The bell rang again and I spun to see a
woman already waiting at the counter, and another couple lining up
behind her.

“I’m sorry, what can I get
for you?” I asked the tall blonde woman wearing a three-piece
suit.

“I want a mocha with half and
half, no whip cream,” she with quick, clipped enunciation.

“Alright, for here or to go?”
I asked.

“To go,” she said, drumming
her manicured fingers on the counter.

I marked up a cup and handed it over to
Chris.

“Is that going to be all?”
I asked, forcing myself to give her a warm grin.

“Yeah, just the drink,” she
said, holding her card out to me.

“Alright, that’s going to
be five dollars,” I said.

“Actually, it’s four,”
she huffed, pointing at the large wooden sign over my head.

I lowered my voice. “I’m
sorry, the half and half is extra when it’s in a mocha. It says
it right there at the end of the menu.” I pointed. “We
could do it with whole milk instead.”

“No, the half and half. But
you’re definitely not getting a tip,” she said.

When I handed her the receipt and a
pen, she picked it up, and started to walk away.

“Sorry, I need you to sign that
one, this one is for you,” I said.

She spun and glared at me. When she
returned to the counter she wrote, “No tip!” in the space
provided for a tip, and signed with a slash across the bottom of the
paper.

“Okay, thanks,” I said as I
took the receipt from her and added it to the receipt pile in the
cash register.

The next group, an elderly couple who
were regulars, needed another minute, so I waited at the counter for
them to decide.

“Mocha with half and half, no
whip,” Chris called, putting the drink up on the coffee
counter. The woman walked up in her tall heels, grabbed her drink
from the counter and strode out of the shop.

“What a psycho,” the
elderly man, Avery, who was next in line said.

His wife Charlie chuckled. “I
think you handled her well, Jamie. I would have smacked her.”

“We definitely get all types
here,” I said under my breath.

Chris came up behind me and pressed the
button to open the register. He grabbed the women’s receipt and
started laughing.

“Let me see that,” Avery
said. When Chris passed him the receipt, he cracked up so hard he had
to grab his side.

Charlie grabbed the receipt. “Ha.
Like her spare change was going to put your kid through college.”
She handed me the receipt back.

I shook my head and put the receipt
away.

“Should I make you your regular?”
Chris asked.

“Yes, without a doubt,”
Avery said.

“Don’t you speak for me,
Avery,” Charlie said, but she winked at me and Chris. “Yes,
I’ll have my regular.”

“Ha, okay, anything to eat?”
I asked.

“We can’t decide, so we’ll
have one of each.”

“Good choice,” I said,
winking back.

When I had gathered one of every pastry
onto four plates, I rang them up.

Charlie paid the tab with her credit
card and pulled a twenty out of her wallet, stuffing it in our tip
jar. “That is for you two lovely people,” she said.

“Thank you so much you guys, you
didn’t have to do that,” I said.

They waved it away.

“If there’s anything left
over, bring it up and I’ll wrap it in plastic, okay?” I
said.

“Don’t worry, there won’t
be,” Avery said, patting his wife on the back.

The bell chimed again and again as
several more customers entered, one after the other. I ate my third
muffin as a seeded onion bagel toasted. When the bagel popped up, I
washed my hands before preparing a lox special.

I placed the plate on the counter and
called out, “Lox special!” Turning back to the register,
I stopped dead.

Clarke stood at the head of the line, a
placid grin on his face. He held up a hand in greeting.

I exhaled slowly, my gaze fixed on his
face. Forcing a smile onto my face, I walked to the cash register.
“Hey Clarke, how’s it going?” I asked as casually
as possible.

“Great, Jamie. So you work here?”
he asked me, glancing around.

“Yep. Can I get you something?”

“Yeah, what’s good here?”
He ducked down over the display case, examining the few lingering
pastries.

“What do you like?” I
asked.

“The berry scone looks good. I’ll
have that.” He stood, coming back up to the counter.

“Uh, huh,” I said,
inputting it into the cash register with shaky fingers. “That’ll
be two fifty.”

“I want a drink too,” he
said, gaze on mine.

“Sure, what would you like?”
I asked.

“What do you recommend?” he
asked.

“Coffee, black coffee,” I
said, meeting his gaze.

“Okay, I’ll take that,
medium-sized,” he said, grinning.

“Alright, that’ll be four
even,” I said.

He gave me the four cash and then
dropped another large wad of cash into the tip jar. “See you
later,” he said.

I poured Clarke’s coffee as fast
as possible, grabbed the berry scone, and put both into to-go
containers. “Black coffee, berry scone,” I called out as
I placed both on the coffee counter, pointedly not looking at him as
I did.

Without glancing his way, I focused on
the line of customers waiting for drinks. When everyone was helped, I
grabbed a dish towel. As I walked through the shop, wiping up spills
and clearing plates, I looked from face to face. Carrying a stack of
plates to the bussing station, I heaved a sigh, closing my eyes.

“Everything okay?” Chris
asked, stopping next to me.

I gave him a smile. “Yeah, I’m
just feeling the coffee deprivation.”

“Did you know the caffeine in tea
is different than the caffeine in coffee?” he asked.

“I didn’t,” I said.

“It’s a little known fact,
but true. Have you ever had a green tea latte?” he asked,
cocking an eyebrow.

“I can’t say that I have,”
I said.

“Well, hold tight, you’re
in for a treat,” he said.

While Chris made my drink, I tidied up
the bagel station and wiped the spills from the counter.

“This is a green tea latte,”
Chris said, holding a drink out with one hand and flourishing his
other hand out.