Page 9 of The Perfect Blend
About half an hour later, the market was still in full swing and from my vantage point, I could see people still entering from the doorway. I also spotted a familiar tall figure exiting. After a split second of indecision, I turned to my neighbouring stall holder, who was manning the pie stall for one of the local butchers. By the looks of it, she was nearly all sold out.
“Hey Janet, could you do me a quick favour? Would you mind watching the cart for a moment while I take Beanie out for a quick wee break?”
The older lady smiled. “Of course, love! Take your time.”
“Thanks,” I said, bending down to clip the lead onto Beanie’s collar, “if anyone asks I’ll be back in just a minute.”
That settled, I ushered Beanie through the throngs of people, hustling to get out the door. Outside, the sun had set; the temperature had dropped, and it was much quieter. Golden light shone through the windows, complemented by the Christmas lights twinkling along the path that led to the car park. With the moon hanging in the sky and the bare branches of the trees reaching upwards, it would have made a cute Christmas card. I spotted the silhouette of, hopefully, Zach at the other end of the path and all thoughts of Christmas cards were forgotten.
Before I could think wiser of it, or think too deeply about my intentions, I called out.
“Zach!”
The figure turned round, and I trotted along the path towards him with Beanie in tow. The heels of my boots clicked on the stone flags.
“Robin,” he said when we got close enough, “I would have said goodbye, but you seemed pretty busy.”
“Yeah, well, Beanie needed the loo, so here we are.” We both looked at the dog leisurely wandering around the green next to us, not looking like a hound in desperate need of the toilet.
I cleared my throat. “Anyway, I was thinking, I’d really like to hear more about your plans for the farm”. This was true, I did. I never thought for one second he would come back, let alone move into the farm. I was curious beyond belief.
“Maybe we could catch up sometime and you could tell me all about it? And about you, of course, what you’ve been up to.” That last bit just slipped out, and I hoped I didn’t sound too nosey. I couldn’t quite merge my idea of who Zach Spencer had been when we were kids with the kind of guy who’d McMansion-ize the farm. Nor could I settle the image of the sweet boy from back then to the handsome, self-assured man in front of me.
“That would be great,” he said, and sounded genuine. “I think from my conversations with a few people today, the rumour mill has been working overtime about my intentions with the farm. It would be really helpful to get a local’s perspective on the sticky situation I’m in.”
I felt vindicated in my suspicions about the accuracy of the gossip. “Sure, I’d certainly like to help if I can,” I said, nodding.
“How about tomorrow night?” He suggested, and I felt bad about turning him down.
“Ah, I can’t do tomorrow, I’m afraid. It's the town Christmas light switch on the day after and I need to find a pair of ladders from somewhere and hang the lights outside my shop.”
“Well, I’ve got some nice solid steel ladders I bought for the farm the other week. Why don’t I come over and give you a hand?”
An uninvited flutter took up residence in my stomach. “That would be really helpful, actually. I’ll be done cleaning up the shop around five. Will you be free after then?” Beanie had come back from her business and was now pestering Zach for some attention, which he seemed happy to give, bending to fluff up her fur with big pats.
“Sure, I’ll see you there - you do have only one shop, right?” He said, looking up at me from next to the dog. Beanie looked like she was in heaven, being lavished with attention.
I laughed. “Just the one, robin red exterior on Palmers Street right by the park.”
“Fittingandfestive, I like it. See you then, Robin, and… Beanie, was it?” Beanie wagged in confirmation.
“She sure is,” I said, in case the tail wagging wasn’t delivering the message for me.
“Again, very on brand,” he chuckled, a low sound that elicited a reaction from me to which I wanted to roll my own eyes at. “Bye, Beanie,” he said, giving her one last pet before winking at me and strolling back along the path.
For the second time in one night, my cheeks burned. Hopefully, everyone would just assume it was from the frosty night air, not the school girl blush it was. I would not come undone from a bloody wink. Even if it was from a man I found so attractive, it was as if he were dragged back here from the past as a personal test for me. I’d had enough of men in my life being a challenge that eventually turned into a problem. No matter how much I fancied him, there could be nothing without rock solid trustworthiness and zero red flags. Not this time.
Chapter Five
The next day the streak of dry, crisp, frosty weather continued. A perk of living in the flat above your own coffee shop is that you have the shortest commute each morning for your pick me up cuppa and your place of work. The apartment was freezing, so I made quick work of jumping out of bed and into the shower. I threw on some casual clothes, brushed my hair and teeth, and called for Beanie, grabbing her lead as we locked up and headed down the narrow stairs into the shop.
Warming up the coffee machine, I reached for my reusable take out mug - thankfully unharmed from my run in with Zach. This morning I changed things up and decided to treat myself to a gingerbread latte, not my regular Americano. There was a slight electric edge to me, a layer of nerves taking up residence under my skin. What had I been thinking, chasing him out of the hall like that? We’d already got off to an odd start, and now I knew he was Zach… everything felt needy and weird and awkward. I needed to shake this feeling off so that I could act normal, friendly, and sensible later. I pulled on my coat and clipped on Beanie’s lead. In no time at all, Beanie and I were stepping out into the brisk morning air, which I was hoping would shock some sense into me. I’d been worrying uselessly about Zach ever since I woke up and it really had to stop.
“Right,” I said to my dog, “first stop - the bakery, and then we can go for your w - a - l - k.” Some people might say it's odd to converse with your dog, I say those people are no fun. Their dogs probably would too.
My coffee shop was on a small street that curved round a park. Together with a few other local businesses, they created a cute little parade of shops on this otherwise residential side road. Just outside of the town centre, this small set of shop fronts had always looked so sad and derelict for most of my childhood. But in recent years, a shift in consumer tastes brought about a love of boutique stores, locally owned businesses and, of course, coffee shops. Some might have thought this little row of shops was a bit too fancy for our little town. They might even have said that there is such a thing as a town having too many coffee shops, but I disagreed. Would it have been better for the shops to be torn down and turned into houses, or to let the chain stores demolish independent retailing? I mean, what town really needs three Costa Coffee’s and four mega supermarkets?
I made my way down the road to the best bakery in town and my pastry supplier, Taylor Baked, run by married couple Suzie and Mia Taylor. The bell dinged as I walked through the door, and Mia smiled over at me from behind the counter. It was only 7am and yet she looked fresh eyed and friendly as ever. It was almost annoying. A cute terracotta pair of dungarees complemented the warm undertones of her dark brown skin. Her braids were pulled up with a silk scrunchie in a matching shade. Mia always dressed brightly and accessorised with a smile. She was like a human ray of sunshine. She claimed that all she needed was a cup of green tea when she rose at 4am to start baking, but I was deeply suspicious about the lack of coffee in her life.
