Page 9 of Rescue
“Well . . . about that,” I say, looking away, suddenly feeling the urge to avoid telling them. I don’t know why, but I don’t want everyone to know that we broke up. It’s too fresh and I’m not sure if I can handle the inevitable interrogation. For some reason, I feel a bit ashamed, and why shouldn’t I? I’ve failed.
“Yes, do tell us what that hoity toity dirtbag thinks about your lack of employment. I’m sure he’s delighted.” Nana’s never really been a fan of Spencer, but it got even worse after our annual Fourth of July party when Spencer told Nana that I wouldn’t be taking over her cafe and, for that matter, we would never live in Piney Grove. Nana left the party early which is so out of character for her. She’s usually the last one to leave, helping the host clean up from the evening. Spencer’s been pretty bad sometimes, but no one gets to Nana like that.
Remembering all the drama that night gives me the courage to be honest. “Well, Nana, you’ll be glad to hear that Spencer and I broke up. He and I want two entirely different lifestyles and that’s never been clearer to me than now.”
Mama gasps and Nana hoots loud enough to have the nurse call through the intercom to tell us to quiet down. Slightly embarrassed, Nana sobers, and Mama looks at me as though I need to give her a better explanation.
“What do you want me to say, Mama?” Tears fill my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I’m not going to shed even one tear for Spencer. “I just couldn’t marry him. I can’t be a picture perfect ‘Partner’s Wife’ for the rest of my life. I'm not just going to give up my dreams to settle down and have a family. I don’t want to sacrifice everything that I am, to please someone. That’s not love, it’s control.” The more I say it, the more I believe it. I can’t and won’t be backed into a corner anymore.
“Well, gorgeous girl, you know we only want you happy,” Mama says, speaking for her and Nana. She reaches her hand up and rubs my back in a soothing gesture. It’s just the three of us and has been since Papa Cliff passed away when I was 9. I believe the sentiment, but I know she has always really liked Spencer, and I don't want her to be disappointed. I raise my eyebrow at her as if to say, “Really?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” she says with a small laugh. “You know I did always like Spencer, even when he seemed less than savory, but that’s because you always seemed so sure about him. He reminds me so much of your father,” she says with a faraway look in her eyes. “So determined and focused, though that’s not always a good thing,” she adds and I’m not sure if she’s talking about Dad or Spencer. “Anyway,” she continues, seeming to snap out of a memory, “if he’s not making you happy, then he’s not who I want for my little girl.”
“You know I never liked the doucher,” Nana says.
“Doucher?” I ask. Do I even want to know?
“Isn’t that what you kids call people nowadays?” Nana asks me.
“We say ‘douchebag’, but no one says doucher. Who did you hear that from?” I ask, slightly horrified and worried about Nana's new lingo. I don’t want to encourage her, but I can’t help but giggle.
“Oh! Rita and I heard her grandson say it last week and now it’s all she says. Even called old Tom a doucher because his pole was too weak to hold me.” she says, full of confidence.
“I think you and Ms. Rita misheard her grandson,” I say between giggles. “Even if you didn’t, I don’t think you should be calling anyone a doucher.”
“Not even that dumbass who didn’t know what a good thing he had?” she asks.
“Nana!”
“Oh fine, but you’re no fun.”
We chat for a while. Nana catches me up on all the Piney Grove gossip and Mama is content to sit back and listen with a small smile like it’s all new information. When she starts getting sleepy, I give them both hugs, tell them goodbye, and head out. Nana gave me the keys to the cafe before I left and caught me up on orders and such. I worked with her so much as a growing up and through high school that I shouldn’t have any issues getting set up and open tomorrow morning. I’ll have to get up earlier than I’m used to since the cafe opens at 6, but I’ll be staying in the living quarters above the cafe so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem.
I wave goodbye to Ms. Rita as I leave the hospital and she reminds me to drive safe. Some things never change in a small town. Walking to my car, I make a mental list of what I need to do this evening. Food is my number one priority right now. It’s been several hours since my abandoned bagel and I’m starving. I swing into the only grocery store in town and run inside to grab a few basics.
The store isn’t busy, so I’m able to get in, get what I need, and get out. It helps having grown up here. I know where everything is. It’s a big change from the fancy markets in the city with enough choices to make your head spin. I’m thankful for once, for the simplicity of this small mountain town. I finish in the store quickly and before I know it, I’m pulling up outside the cafe.
I unlock the front door and flip on the dining room lights. It’s just as I remembered down to the aromatic smell of sugar and coffee mixing together to make me feel right at home. The dining room is decorated in jewel tones and there are several dark wooden tables where guests can sit to enjoy their coffee. The chairs are embroidered paisley in dark blue, green, and purples. The walls are adorned with cute kitschy pictures that somehow tie in the decor perfectly. My favorite large, overstuffed royal blue claw-foot sofa sits in its usual place near the fireplace.
Papa Cliff’s father left him this house when he passed away. Nana and Papa already had their own home, so he remodeled the first floor into a cafe because that had always been Nana’s dream.
My father died just after I was born, so Mama moved us back to Piney Grove. Nana and Papa let us stay here while Mama finished her accounting degree and got her business going. I’ve been helping Nana for as long as I can remember. She took care of me while Mama worked long hours and never made me feel like I was in the way. She’s the reason why I love baking, and why I’m so good at it. I owe everything to her, so coming back here and helping her with the cafe while she’s down is the least I can do for her. In fact, it’s my pleasure.
