As the evening darkened, she finally turned and went back inside her cottage, flipping on the lamps and filling the rooms with warm, cozy light. Yes, two months here was just what she needed. She settled into an overstuffed armchair, more at peace and content than she’d felt in years.
The next morning Amanda’s eyes fluttered open, and she struggled to place where she was. As the fog of sleep dissipated and she finally remembered, a smile slipped across her face. Magnolia. The start of her glorious two months filled with… nothing. No cell phones. No email. No demands.
Slipping out from under the soft sheets, she climbed out of bed and padded into the kitchen. Then to her dismay, she realized she hadn’t picked up any coffee when she’d gone to the market. That wouldn’t do. She needed her coffee. She hurried and changed into casual clothes—that in and of itself a great luxury. As she reached for the doorknob, ready to head out in search of coffee and breakfast, a burst of laughter escaped her lips. She turned and deliberately set her phone on the table by the door. No need for that annoying electronic pest.
She stepped out into the sunshine and decided she’d walk. The weather was perfect. Sunny skies and a light breeze that carried the faint scent of the fresh sea air. She headed toward the boardwalk, walking past the storefronts on Main Street. Thequaintness of the town charmed her, each building adorned with striped awnings and large containers of blooming flowers lining the sidewalk. She swore it could be on a picture-perfect postcard, then grinned when she realized it was. Like the postcard back on her fridge at home.
Some of the storefronts looked like she remembered them, their fronts worn but inviting. A few were freshly painted in bright colors, adding a bit of vibrancy to the street.
She stepped out onto the boardwalk and let the sea breeze toss her hair this way and that. She tilted her face toward the sun and let it rain down on her, washing away her cares like the tide rushing out from the shoreline.
Her stomach rumbled to remind her she was hungry, and she turned to head back to find a place to eat. A charming cafe called Coastal Coffee beckoned with its cheerful teal awning and large pots of flowers on either side of the doorway. Coffee. Just what she needed. She pushed inside and gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the dimmer lighting.
A woman near the counter, her graying hair pulled back in a messy bun, waved to her. “Take a seat anywhere. Be with you in a minute.”
Amanda nodded and scanned the cozy room. She spied a two-top near the back and settled into a chair. The place was full of customers enjoying their breakfast. The sounds of conversation and dishes clanking filled the air with a comfortable hum. The intertwined scents of freshly roasted coffee and tantalizing cinnamon wafted through the large, open room. Her mouth watered in anticipation.
The woman approached her table with a warm smile and set a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. “Coffee to start you off?”
“Yes. Please. That would be wonderful.” She hoped it tasted as good as it smelled.
“The specials are on the board above the counter.” She handed her a menu. “Blueberry muffins today. They’re really good.”
She glanced at the chalkboard and then at the menu in her hands. Everything begged for her attention. It all sounded yummy.
“I’m Beverly, by the way,” the woman said. “I’ll give you a moment to look over the menu and be back for your order.” With that, she bustled off to take care of another customer, leaving Amanda to ponder all the scrumptious-sounding choices.
As she perused the menu, she sipped her coffee, savoring the rich flavor. She was in luck. The coffee was delicious. As she contemplated her choices, she overheard Beverly talking to a nearby customer.
“It’s too bad about the Heritage Festival this year. I heard they might even cancel it,” Beverly said.
“They can’t cancel it. It’s a town tradition going back decades.” The older woman frowned, a look of total displeasure on her face.
“I know, Miss Eleanor, but after Judy took that bad fall, she’s out of commission for a while, and no one seems to want to take over for her.”
“Well, I would, but I’m scheduled to be out of town for a bit and someone would need to be in town this month to pull it off. It’s only six weeks off.” Eleanor tapped the table with two sharp raps of her fingers. “But we need to have someone run it.”
“It would be a shame if they have to cancel it.” Beverly sighed. “Anyway, let me know if you need anything else.”
Amanda wondered what this annual Heritage Festival was all about. She imagined arts and crafts displays. Maybe a historical reenactment? Maybe food booths or even a baking contest? She reached in her pocket for her phone to search for informationabout it, then remembered it was back at her cottage. Ah, well. She’d look it up when she got back.
Beverly walked over and topped off her coffee. “Have you decided?”
“Yes, I’ll have the blueberry muffins. And… a side of hash browns.” She handed back the menu.
“Great choice. Muffins are fresh-baked every morning.” Beverly nodded with approval. “So, are you in town for long?”
“I am. A couple of months. Just taking a little break from… life.”
“Ah, we all need a break sometimes, don’t we?” Beverly smiled at her. “Well, come in here as often as you like. We’ve got great breakfasts and lunches. And if you’re looking for dinner, try Sharky’s. Lots of fried food and all of it delicious.”
“Thanks for the recommendation.” She appreciated the gesture of hospitality.
Beverly headed back behind the counter, leaving Amanda to her thoughts. It would be nice to feel welcome here and enjoy more meals at the cozy cafe.
The older woman Beverly had been talking to—Eleanor—stood up from her table, the legs of her chair scraping against the floor. The paper she’d been reading slipped from her grasp and fluttered to the floor. Amanda reached over to scoop it up and held it up to the woman. Eleanor’s brow creased and her look was hard to read. Amanda couldn’t tell if the woman was grateful or annoyed.
“Thank you,” she said curtly as she snatched the paper back.
