Page 26 of It Couldn't Be You
“I had no idea. I’m here if you need to talk.” But he didn’t sound like he wanted to talk. And neither did I.
“I apologize for this unprofessional display of emotion. I’m just going to go.” I stood up, wiping my face with my palms as I walked toward the door.
“Emma.” He held up his hand, stopping me before walking out the doorway. “You’re a fantastic writer, and I always thought we wouldn’t be able to keep you here very long, anyway. You’re going to look back at this time in your life, years from now, and be happy everything changed. Sometimes, the best things happen when everything is different.”
“Thank you,” I said, quite professionally—if you ignored the running mascara.
Ididn’t go home. I went to Commas & Coffee, our little coffee shop and bookstore hybrid downtown. Katie had been a book-seller and barista there since we graduated from college.
It was a frigid morning with opaque skies overhead, so I held my scarf close as I hurried down the street. Inside the shop, it was warm with a soft glow from the hanging Christmas lights overhead. As I closed the door behind me, I took in the familiar scent of coffee beans, old books, and freshly baked sugar cookies. I felt my shoulders immediately relax.
The walls were lined with bookshelves, and there was a cozy brown sofa across from a big picture window that looked out into the downtown streets. And tucked away in the corner was a bar that served baked goods and coffee in case you got hungry whilst caught up in a good book. It was Katie if you could walk around her heart; welcoming, warm, literary, and sweet.
I walked across the wooden floors to Katie’s corner. She was sitting behind the desk with a thick book open on the table in front of her, studying the pages with a furrowed brow. Her dark hair was falling out of the messy knot at the base of her neck.
“Hey, you,” I said.
“Hi,” she said, a sound of surprise in her tone. “You’re running late for your meeting, huh?”
“No, I’ve already been.” The shop was empty at the moment, aside from a couple of readers with their noses buried in books, so I felt safe propping my elbows on her bar. “Let me tell you about my morning.”
“God, Em,” Katie said after I told her everything. “What an ominous start to the year.”
I started laughing. “Ominous is a good word for it.”
“You know what they say, right? How you spend New Year’s Eve sets the tone for theentireyear.”
“So, what does that mean for me?”
Katie gave me an apologetic shrug. “There’s still hope. It’s not midnight yet.”
“Katie, I am starting the year as the woman who dumped the greatest guy in town and am now unemployed. Where is the hope?”
“I can help you job hunt after we get back from Ruidoso.”
“Do you know anywhere looking for a reporter in this town?”
“Does it have to be reporting?”
“Well…I would at least like it to be writing. I might have to look outside of Sweet River.”
Katie’s eyes went wide with sadness.
“Or maybe something remote,” I added gently.
“Emma! Happy New Year!” Katie’s boss, Rose, said as she walked behind the bar.
“Happy New Year to you, too, Rose. Your hair looks beautiful,” I said, admiring her afro. Rose was in her late fifties, but she had an energy that always made me forget she wasn’t in her twenties like Katie and me.
“Well, thank you. I was wanting to let the curls be natural for the new year.” She busied herself with the pastry display. “What are you two girls chatting about right now? It was sounding pretty intense when I walked up. “
“Oh, Rose, let me tell you this girl’s story.” Katie took in a deep breath. “Jordan proposed to her, with my blessing, I might add. She told him to hold on…and thensnuck out his windowwhile he was waiting around with the ring. A couple of hours later, she shows up at his apartment and dumps him. She’s been crushed all Christmas. Then she goes into work this morning, and Richfiresher.”
“Karma?” Rose whispers under her breath. Then she winks at me and says, “I kid, I kid.”
“She is the dumper and the dumpee. Life is all about balance,” Katie said.
“Okay, no one is trying to spare my feelings at all, I see,” I said wryly.
