Page 43 of Storm in a Teacup
Linny
“Melinda?”
I search for Carolyn but don’t see her amongst the clutter of our store. I’m in the rear where the furniture can be stacked high. It doesn’t help that she probably does not clear five feet anymore. “Yes?” I call back, hoping for a bit of echolocation.
“Melinda?” she says again.
“Marco,” I respond.
“No, it’s me, Carolyn,” she says in her normal songbird voice.
“No, you’re supposed to say…never mind. Meet at the register.” I set down the picture frames I have been carefully placing in various locations around the store since Carolyn brought in that hoard. I find her standing by the front counter with her hand on her hip. “Yes?” I ask.
“The shop is very dusty.”
“I just dusted last night.” Last night, it was dusty. I could hardly enter the store without sneezing. I take full responsibility for that. However, I did clean.
Her lips wrinkle. “Maybe the evening hours are not the best for dusting.”For youis the unfinished end of that sentence.
I grumble and survey the shop, scanning the surfaces caught by the streaming light. Fine. It’s still dusty.
“Point taken. However, I will argue that this stuff seems to generate dust. I think it’s perfectly possible the store was spotless last night.”
“I suppose it is.”
“I’ll start dusting.”
I go to the back to grab a duster, pausing to check my phone. Nothing. My shoulders fall. I’m not sure why I expected something. From Mel, I mean. Something about the wedding. I don’t know. I’ve gotten used to a notification-lacking phone. Not sure why it’s bothering me now.
I grab the duster and proceed to swipe every inch of the shop until Carolyn is happy.
…
I make myself leave the shop as soon as we’re closed today. I’ve spent too many late nights here when I should be spending them watching TV or going to yoga or reading smutty romance novels (all Carolyn’s suggestions). As I’m locking the door behind me, I notice the light in the café is still on. They close before we do, so this piques my interest. I peer into the café to see a group of people sitting at the tables, all facing Ben, who stands defensively behind the counter.
I don’t think before I knock on the locked front door.
Ben’s eyes dart to me and grow grateful. Isla beats him to the door and says, “Linny! The perfect person for this. Tell Ben he has to celebrate his birthday.”
I step inside, but don’t get too far beyond the threshold. I look at him with wide eyes and ask, “Birthday? When’s your birthday?”
“Never,” Ben says.
“Tomorrow,” Isla corrects, falling back into the seat besideRachel.
I step in a little farther, crossing my arms in front of myself. “What birthday is this? Thirty-one?”
Rachel pipes in, “Thirty.”
I furrow my brow, still looking at Ben. “You told me you were thirty already.”
“I’m close enough,” he states.
David sighs from where he sits in a chair facing away from a table, Callum on the other side. “Ben, you love your birthday. And thirty is a big one. We want to celebrate it with you. Please let us.”
Callum hums in agreement. “Yeah. Your last birthday was a week-long celebration spanning multiple cities.”
“Right,” David agrees. “We did that nice hike in the Highlands, went out with your buddies from work, wandered around Edinburgh for two nights. We’re just asking you to doonething this year to celebrate.”
