Page 73 of Zimyra

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“Can I get you some coffee?”

“Yes. Let me get a large with a splash of cream. I’ll put everything else in it.”

While she gets the coffee, I check my phone again, hoping to have some kind of contact from Zimyra, but there is none.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, and if you decide to stick around, you may want to go check out Zayda’s Pies. My mother-in-law makes the best pies.”

“Your mother-in-law?”

“Zimyra’s mother?”

Nykendy winks, then smiles big.

“Thank you,” I tell her.

“You’re welcome, Axel.”

I walk over to the other side of the shop. I don’t know how I missed the place the first time I came in here. It was probably because I was on a mission. I have a little more time to burn now since the office is closed.

I walk up to the counter, studying the woman whose daughter I’m becoming infatuated with. I see some of the features she blessed her daughter with – the thick, curly hair, the jawline, beautiful smile and cheekbones. Zimyra is taller – she must’ve gotten that extra bit of height from her father.

“Good morning,” I say.

“Good morning. What can I get you to go with that coffee this morning?”

“I’ll take a slice of sweet potato pie, please.”

“Good choice.”

She goes about getting a fresh slice that’s still in the pan, puts it in a cardboard container, and places it on the counter. “Here you are.”

I hand her my card. She swipes it and hands it back to me. I ask, “Are you Zimyra’s mother?”

Her eyes brighten as she stares up at me. “I am. And you are?”

“I work in the maintenance department at Atlantic. I was there yesterday when—”

“Oh my goodness. You’re Axel.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Bless your heart. I was with her all last night. She told me what you did. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

She comes from behind the counter and wraps her arms around me.

“You’re welcome. I haven’t been able to reach her. How is she doing?”

“She’s okay. My daughter is one, tough cookie. It’s the mental part I’m worried about, though. She’s good at hiding her real feelings.”

“Yeah. That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Being attacked is nothing you should brush off and pretend it never happened. She needs to talk about it.”

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