Page 10 of Postmarked December

They arrived at the coffee shop. Inside, the warmth was a balm to Heather’s icy skin. Marion grabbed them each a menu from the stand near the door. They stepped in line and perused the choices.

“They’ve got biscuits and gravy,” Marion said with a groan of delight.

Heather gave an enthusiastic bounce of her eyebrows. “I’m eyeing the cheese grits.”

“If I get the biscuits, I should probably have the scrambled eggs with pimento cheese to go with it.” Marion sucked in a deep breath and then squealed quietly.

As they waited in line, Heather took in her surroundings. Holiday cheer had settled into every corner of the shop. Evergreen garlands wrapped around doorposts, their branches dotted with holly. A wide tree stood near the counter, its ornaments an eclectic mix of vintage ceramic figurines and deep cranberry bows. They stepped up to a counter draped in garlands with a line of mugs displayed on top for the regulars to put in their orders and asked for a quick minute to decide, letting the people behind them go first. A fireplace at one end crackled beneath stockings labeled with the baristas’ names, casting a warm glow across a set of well-used leather armchairs positioned perfectly for conversation. From behind the counter came the comforting hiss of steaming milk, accompanied by the scent of peppermint mochas, and fresh gingerbread cooling on wire racks.

“I’m getting a decadent coffee, I think. Maybe the Peppermint Ribbon Crunch latte,” Heather stated.

“You had a decadent coffee yesterday and you’re having another? I like your style.” Marion put her arm around her. “And you deserve a wonderful holiday.”

“Thank you.”

When it was their turn, they stepped up to the counter and put in their order. They got their coffees and looked for a place to settle in.

“The chairs are open by the fire,” Heather said, walking quickly to grab them.

Marion unwound her scarf and took off her coat, draping it on the chair. “This is lucky,” she said, sitting across from Heather.

“Yeah…” Heather looked around suspiciously. “Everything seems a little too perfect. I get a Christmas letter that sounds like it’s from Toby, I come to the most adorable town for the day—with snow falling—and we get these comfy chairs in a busy coffee shop. What’s going on?”

“Your luck is changing?” Marion offered.

“Whose luck is ever like this?”

“Well, we do have the stalker who will probably murder us on the way back to the car, so that should even things out.” Marion sipped her coffee.

Heather laughed and then sobered. “Thank you for coming today.”

“I had to. I’m the one with pepper spray in my bag.”

“What if it isn’t a stalker?” Heather said, still giggling. “Who could it be? No one was close enough to Toby and me to know the things in that letter.”

“Maybe we’ll learn more at the wine shop.”

Their names were called and Marion went up to get their breakfasts. They balanced their plates on their laps while basking in the warmth of the fireplace.

“It’s nice to get out of the city for a little while.” Heather took a bite. The warm, cheesy, slightly sweet corn flavors were simple but delicious, reminding her of home cooking. “Since Toby passed, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my free time. In better days, the two of us kept each other busy, and then, once he was sick, my days were filled with doing things for him and working. But now, who am I supposed to do things for?”

Marion offered a soft smile. “Yourself.”

“I’m better when I’m with someone else. I often think about what Toby had wanted for me. He told me to date again, and I wouldn’t hear of it, but he knew me better than I knew myself.”

“Would you be up for dating someone else?” Marion asked.

“If you’d have asked me six months ago, I’d have said no, but I wonder, sometimes, if having someone in my life would open me up to my future instead of keeping me in this loop of grief.”

“Let things unfold. You never know what could happen,” Marion said. “And for now, until you find that perfect someone, I’ve got your back. And your pepper spray.” She winked.

Heather took a warm sip of her coffee, the atmosphere of the coffee shop lifting her spirits. “How about you and Anthony? How are the two of you?”

“We’re fine.”

Heather frowned. “Fine or great?” When Marion shrugged, Heather added, “You know, we’re waist-deep in my personal life. You’re allowed to share yours.”

“Fine is the best descriptor I’ve got at the moment.” Marion blew a frustrated breath through her lips.