Page 75 of Cream & Sugar
I promised myself I’d hold off taking things further until I’d had time to think, and to calm down from what turned out to be oneof the craziest, hottest days of my life, but I don’t want it to stop. I want him. I want to text him, or call the café to see if it’s quiet, and invite him back over right this second. I want to kiss him again.
Freddie Young. My first guy crush. My first guykiss. My hot new barista. My… employee.
Freddie, my employee. It still doesn’t sound great.
I think back to earlier, back when we were on the sofa and Freddie was edging closer towards me. Of the two of us, Freddiedefinitelymade the first move. Does that make it okay?
Once again, all my good feelings unspool like an old cassette tape. The high was only going to last so long, I suppose. I still need to figure out what the hell I’m going to do.
I could kick myself. It felt like it was going so well. Itisgoing so well! Ever since Freddie walked into the café, it’s like my heart remembered how to beat again. Is this just my brain self-sabotaging? Like it always does?
I take a deep breath.
There’s only one thing for it: a second opinion. I need to be judged, fairly but brutally. Time to do what any self-respecting thirty-three-year-old should do when they’re spiralling.
I’m going to call my mum.
Nel Harrison, my mother, picks up on the third ring.
“Hello, love! Two seconds, I’ll put you on speaker—my hands are covered in flour.”
“What?” The gruff voice of my father, John, shouts from another room.
Mum sighs.
“I wasn’t talking to you, dear! Shaun’s on the phone!” Her Brummie accent gets stronger when she shouts. Mum lowers her voice again. “Sorry, love. Can you hear me okay?”
“Loud and clear,” I say.
“What?” Dad shouts again.
“Oh for goodness sake. Be quiet, John!” There’s a click that can only be Mum shutting the kitchen door. “There. Sorry, you know what he’s like.”
“Deaf as a post?”
Mum giggles. “Selective hearing, I call it. Doesn’t stop him having the History channel on full blast every afternoon! I swear, you can hear artillery from the back garden. Anyway, it’s lovely to hear from you. How are you, love? I hear you’ve been getting snow?”
“Most of it’s slush, but yeah. It’s Baltic.”
“And how’s the café?”
“It’s good. Great, actually. It’s great.” No point telling her how tough it’s been. She’ll only worry.
“And are you taking care of yourself?”
“Sort of.”
I can practically hear her eyes rolling.
“You work too hard, Shaun. I’ve always said it. You’re going to burn yourself out if you’re not careful.”
“I think I’m past that, to be honest, Mum,” I say. “All burnt out. A pile of ash, that’s me.”
“We can send you some money, if that would help—”
“No no,” I interrupt. “I’m fine for money. There’s just a lot going on. The first couple of months were always going to be the hardest. It’ll get easier.”
It had bloody better get easier.
