Page 56 of Brewing Up My Fresh Start
“I think he’s fundamentally broken as a bird,” Michelle wheezes, wiping tears from her eyes.
Frank, hearing his performance review, hops down and fixes us both with an indignant stare.
“It means,” Michelle continues, trying to compose herself while Frank begins knocking sugar dispensers off the counter, “the place where I rebuilt my entire life after someone I trusted destroyed everything that mattered to me.”
Her voice cracks on the last words, and something shifts inside my chest. Frank pauses his demolition project, head cocked.
“And what about the jobs my development will create?” The words come out rougher than intended, partly because Frank has claimed my tie as his personal playground. “What about keeping this town alive instead of letting it slowly?—”
Frank gives my tie an experimental tug. The silk, deciding it’s had enough abuse, snaps clean in half.
I stumble backward, clutching the remains while Frank performs what appears to be a touchdown celebration across my blueprints, complete with wing flourishes and triumphant shrieking.
“—die?” I finish weakly, staring at the tie in my hands.
Wrong word. I know it the instant it leaves my mouth, but Michelle’s already on her feet, eyes blazing with fury that could melt steel.
“Die?” She rounds the table with predatory grace, completely ignoring Frank’s continued victory lap. “This town isn’t dying, you arrogant?—”
“Realist? Someone who understands that sentiment doesn’t pay bills?” I counter, trying to maintain dignity while Frank builds what appears to be a nest from my shredded documents.
“Someone who bulldozes everything meaningful and replaces it with soulless tourist traps!” She’s close enough now that I can see the way her pulse hammers at the base of her throat. “You want to turn Twin Waves into some sanitized version of itself!”
Frank squawks approval, then immediately contradicts himself by trying to eat a sugar packet.
I stand too, suddenly tired of being lectured about community values while a deranged seagull uses my presentation materials as craft supplies. “And you want to let everything crumble into nostalgic ruins because you’re terrified of anything that might force you out of your safe little bubble.”
“I’m not afraid of change!”
“Really? Because from where I’m standing, you look absolutely terrified of letting anyone get close enough to matter.” Three weeks of frustration boil over as Frankinvestigates the cash register with scientific precision. “Heaven forbid anything might threaten your perfectly controlled world.”
Her face goes pale, then floods with color. “You don’t know anything about me.”
Frank, sensing escalation, abandons the register and perches on the counter between us like a feathered referee.
“Don’t I? Seven years of watching you, Michelle. Of morning conversations that never go deeper than weather and coffee orders. You’ve turned keeping people at arm’s length into an art form.”
“At least I’m not so emotionally locked up that I think destroying communities is just good business!”
“Emotionally locked up?”
Rage flares hot, but underneath it is something colder, something that feels uncomfortably like recognition. She’s not wrong, and the truth of it lands sharper than any insult.
“Yes! You’re so terrified of feeling anything real that you’ve convinced yourself tearing down everything I care about is just smart planning!”
Frank decides we need a referee’s whistle, because he lets out a squawk so loud the windows rattle. We both turn to stare at him.
He stares back with his mismatched googly eyes, head tilted like he’s evaluating our performance.
“Even the bird thinks we’re being ridiculous,” I mutter.
“The bird has excellent judgment,” Michelle shoots back, but something’s changed in her voice. Less fury, more... anticipation.
We’re standing close now—close enough that I can smell her vanilla-and-coffee scent. Frank has gone suspiciously quiet, like he’s holding his breath.
“You think I don’t feel anything?” My voice comes out lower than intended, rough with seven years of suppressed want.
“I think you feel everything, and it terrifies you.” Her chin lifts in defiance, but there’s vulnerability flickering in her eyes.
