Page 10 of Sweet Dreams

Point taken. I quickly made my way back down the hall, my heels clicking against the linoleum as I did. I barely slowed by my desk, grabbing my favorite trench coat from the tree by the door before exiting, the twinkling of our bell sounding overhead.

My heart was hammering as I made my way towards Cup o’ Joe, Salus Glen's most notorious coffee shop. Located at the corner of the Mainstreet and, across from a small local park, Joe Reid had staked his claim as the town favorite even before I made it out of high school. He and husband, Kenneth, had come to Salus Glen looking for a quiet place for Kenneth to compose his next musical masterpiece and never left.

There was usually a line of people waiting to slurp down their caffeinated elixirs, but I must’ve caught them in a slow moment. Which was, as I knew, a gift and a curse. No doubt, the absence of a crowd meant that Joe was going to bestow upon me the entire months’ worth of gossip.

And I was not sure that I could handle that right now. Grandpa was still mulling over my piece on the External Trade Agency and I was feeling more than a little frustrated about why I had come home to Salus Glen. Other than my brush with a certain tall, dark and handsome face, last week, my time at home felt stilted, uncomfortable. Not at all what I’d thought it would be.

The interior of Cup o’ Joe was warmed by the sunlight that poured in at my back. I stopped, inhaling the sweet scent of the coffee bean and array of goodies that Joe always stocked for hungry caffeine hounds, like me. My eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, I was the same girl who had come here with her study group in high school. Or with Grandma on winter break, when we wanted to talk about my latest boyfriend without Grandpa listening in. There was peace in it, this familiarity. And, with my eyes shut, I tried to focus on that feeling. The warmth. I was here for a reason, I knew it. I hadn’t been wrong. My gut wouldn’t steer me wrong.

“Lulu Magoo!”

I cringed, but a smile grew on my face. “Joe Schmo, you are killing me with that nickname.”

The thick bodied man, whose dark apron read ‘I put the Joe in Cup o’ Joe’ marched around the counter and came to embrace me. “It’s good to see you, girl. Your Grandpa said you were here, but I haven't laid eyes on you yet. You look great.”

I returned the hug easily; the scent of coffee and cocoa beans permanently infused to the man and I smiled against his shoulder. “Thank you, so do you. And this place, God, it looks great.”

Joe released me with a grin, “You’re too nice, Lulu, but I appreciate it nonetheless. Make sure to tell Kenny when he comes down, he’s insistent on doing a huge renovation this year.”

Kenny, who would probably bite the head off any other person who dared to call him by that name, thundered down the stairs behind us. “Joe? Did you say Lulu Magoo?”

I laughed, my head flopping backwards as Kenneth, a wiry man with slender silver spectacles perched on his nose swung around from the stairs that led from the cafe to their apartment above. “Hi Kenneth,” I said, moving forward with my arms extended.

Kenneth moved into them, dramatically shoving his husband out of the way before embracing me. Something poked me in my arm, one of his rogue pencils he kept stashed in various pockets. You have to always be ready, he’d told me once, inspiration doesn’t wait for you to find something to write with.

“Lulu, you look absolutely wonderful,” he set me back, a bit forcibly, “Do you have a man? A woman? My nephew is still single, and as long as you don’t mind cats, he’s a total catch.”

I laughed, my heart feeling lighter by the moment. “No man, and while I love cats, I’m not really sure we’d be a match.”

“And why not?’

“Probably because while he’s a catch, I’m a hot mess,” I whispered.

Kenneth swatted the air between us, “Baby, get this girl a coffee. I need to hear about why she’s single.”

I knew a dangerous situation when I saw one and while I would love to catch up with these two, I didn’t need to get my calendar filled up with blind dates before I even figured out if I was staying in Salus Glen. Cart before horse, right?

“I’m so sorry, Grandpa had me get Bruce something, I should probably get that back to him.”

Joe was already behind the counter pulling out a to-go cup and beginning what I hope was Bruce’s latest order. “Can I get something too? Dealer's choice.”

Kenneth wrinkled his nose at me, making his lens flash, “You don’t have a coffee order.”

Something in my gut jerked. “I mean, I do. I just like things–I mean–I like hearing what others are drinking. It’s a great way to try new things.” I sounded defensive. Oh God, I was defensive. I opened my mouth to explain more, but Joe was already jumping in.

“I know just the thing.” And, then, the man was gone.

I asked Kenneth about his latest work as his husband bustled around the steamers and pots behind the counter. His warm, steady chatter was a pleasant hum in my mind. I was absorbing his words, but more than that, this place soaked into me, making my heart slow, my mind clouded with the quiet pleasure of the space.

That was, until Kenneth ended his update with a sharp little look at his husband and a “Have you met the new family in town? The Emersons?”

I swallowed, refocusing in on the male “Yes, I actually interviewed–”

“Something is strange with them,” Kenneth said, raising a brow, “I can feel it.”

“What do you mean?” I sat down at one of the small high-topped tables that were scattered across the room.

“Well, the couple, that’s Tim and Bailey.”