Page 11 of Everything Has Changed
Jackson chuckles over us. “Alright, Row. No terrorizing the locals today. You promised to be on your best behavior.”
She displays a tiny eye roll and sighs out, “Okay, Daddy”.
I stand up to my full height again. “Cute kid you got there.”
He shrugs and ruffles her hair again to which she protests loudly. “Yeah, she’s cool, I guess.”
“You’re already two for two, so no doubt this one turns out pretty good.” I nod my head toward the door he just exited. Bold letters announce “The Willow Whisk” on the glass.
As the oldest of the three Prescott kids, Jackson took the role of big brother very seriously, especially in high school. He might have been a year into college when Gwen finally started, but he made sure to leave a lasting impression on the guys on the hockey team with his warning to stay away from his sisters.
He smiles down at his daughter now as she grabs his hand, tugging him away with all her might.
“Sorry, man. Running late for school drop-off. Gwen promised her a treat this morning, so we had to cash in.” He jerks his head in the direction of the cafe beside us. “Better get in there before the breakfast crowd takes all the good stuff. Which is just about everything, but I’m pretty partial to the cinnamon rolls.” Jackson barely budges at his daughter’s pulling. “Let’s meet up this weekend. Matt and I usually hit up Daisy’s Bar on Friday nights. I’ll text ya. Still at the same number?”
“Same one,” I respond, chuckling as he gives in to Rowan’s theatrics and she pulls him down the sidewalk.
Turning toward the glass door in front of me, I open it and a wave of fresh coffee attacks my senses in the best way possible. I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with the delicious scent, while taking in the room. Rich dark wooden tables and chairs fill the space. Leather couches run along one wall, inviting whoever walks in to take a seat and melt into the thick cushions. There’s an open doorway to the right that reveals bookshelves filled to the brim, with a table right in the middle of it all showcasing a familiar book series with the name Kennedy Prescott on the bottom.
My attention comes back into the main room as an older couple I remember to be some of my parents’ friends wave from a table in the corner. A few more are taken by high school students pouring over textbooks, no doubt cramming for school today. A familywith young children all clad in hiking gear sits on one of the couches while marking up a paper map with wide smiles full of excitement.
The whole place was full of warmth and comfort. The vibe was something this town lacked when I was growing up. I can’t imagine how much time I would have spent here if this had been open when I was in high school.
Stepping up to the counter, my eyes travel over the bakery case filled with homemade treats. Scones covered in toppings, fresh sourdough loaves, colorful cake pops. Everything you could think of, it seemed Gwen had already thought of it and displayed it for you to enjoy.
“I’ll be right with you,” a soft voice calls from the back where I notice a swinging door is propped open. I take my time perusing the menu, deciding what I want to try first, only dropping my gaze when I hear footsteps working their way to the front.
“Welcome in. What can I get started for you?” Gwen’s question trails off when she materializes behind the counter and takes in her new customer, her plush lips parting in shock. “Logan. I thought we weren’t meeting until later?” Her brows furrow, leaving a crease between them that I want to reach and smooth with my thumb.
There’s a tray of fresh cinnamon rolls in her hands, which she sets on the counter behind her. She turns, opening the case that stands between us using a sliding door. Her gaze is doing a spectacular job of not meeting mine after the initial shock of finding me out here.
“Finished up my run and ran into your brother and Rowan outside. He talked up those right there, and there was no way I wasn’t going to see what the hype was about.” I point to the pastry she’s taking her time situating on the shelf. “Plus, I could really use some coffee. Haven’t had time to stock up just yet.”
“Right,” she straightens the other trays that seem perfectly in place already before giving up and meeting me at the counter. Gwen fidgetswith her strawberry blond hair, adjusting the high ponytail. The ends hit mid-back on her cream-colored sweater. Her green eyes give me an apprehensive look, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.
“So,” she prompts. “A cinnamon roll. Anything else?” Gwen places the gooey treat in a bakery bag, not bothering to ask if I wanted it for here or to go.
“Iced latte with almond milk, please.”
She is already starting on my drink, pulling a shot before the whole order is out of my mouth.
I watch her move behind the counter with ease. “I remember you talking about wanting to open up something like this back in high school. I’m proud of you, Gwenny. Not a lot of people see their dreams come to light. But you always knew you would do it.”
Her green eyes flicker over to me. A flash within them I can’t pinpoint, before returning to the task of making my coffee. “Thanks. It was a labor of love. But I couldn’t have done it without Ophelia.”
I smile at the mention of her grandmother. A real national treasure in this town. “How is your grandmother, by the way?”
Gwen’s face softens as she places the lid on my cup and slides it over to me. “She’s doing great. You’ll probably see her around soon enough.”
Reaching into my pocket for my wallet, I produce my card in time for Gwen to hold her hand up to stop me.
“On the house.”
“Are you sure?”
“Think of it as a welcome back gift.”
“Thank you,” I tip my imaginary hat to her as I pocket my wallet.
