I pull myself together. “Just wanted to ask if it was okay to cover them with photos?” Something in his body language makes me lose my composure, and I continue in a mumble. “I’ll just go to the library. I’m sure their local history section will have all I need. And they can print… and… I’ll see you later.”
What am I—a teenager?Jesus, Willow.
Get.
A.
Grip.
I rush out of the store, struggling to tame the visions of Noah in a dark attic.
Once at the library I skim through history books, snapping photos of the general store through the years with my cellphone.
“I just want something fun, nothing artistic,” I explain to Sophie, the librarian, as we figure out a way for me to transfer all the photos to her for printing.
“Let me check the newspaper archives,” she says, typing quickly on her desktop. “There. Look at all that!”
Joining her behind her desk, I look at historical photos of the store that I’ve never seen. Dozens of them. “Awesome.”
“I’ll print all of those as well, and in A3 format,” Sophie suggests.
“Would you? That would look great. Hopefully my displays turn out okay. The store has so much to offer. It just needs a little magic to make it happen.”
“It can’t look worse than it already does, honey,” Sophie tells me with an eye roll while my pictures download to her printer app. “You’re a godsend.”
“Thanks,” I say, unsure if I really am until I see the result.
“There. Ooh, you have some good ones,” Sophie says. “It’ll take me about half an hour. This thing sometimes jams.”
“Can I help?”
“Nah, I’m good. We have some really good new books that just came in.”
That sounds really tempting, but I’d like to do something nice for Sophie instead, as a thank-you. “I’ll head over to Easy Monday. What can I get you?”
***
As I exit the library, my attention is drawn to a sleek red car parked on the other side of The Green. A driver is inside—I can’t make out who—engine idling as if they’re waiting for someone. Who could it be? I wonder how long it will take for someone to post about that on ECHoes, and smile inwardly at my town’s nosiness as I hasten my steps.
Easy Monday is Emerald Creek’s coffee shop. Set right in a sturdy stone building overlooking the river, it’s everyone’s favorite hangout place from morning until it’s time to head to Lazy’s. The owner, Millie, has a romance book lending system there that guarantees high occupancy of her comfy couches andreading nooks. She also displays local artists. And of course, she crafts ah-mazing coffees (as stated on her sign).
“Two Roads to Heaven please,” I ask.
“Willow! One for you and one for the lucky groom?” Millie asks.
I feel myself blush. “No, actually the other one is for Sophie.”
“Oh—good to know. She likes oat milk in hers,” Millie says as she writes Sophie’s name on a to-go mug. “Why don’t you choose a mug for yourself, sweetie.” She points to her display shelf of travel mugs. “My little wedding gift,” she adds with a wink.
“That’s so sweet of you.” I settle for the deep-blue mug with a sprinkling of stars. Millie takes her permanent gold marker and writes my name on it with a flourish,Willow Callaway.
It’s the first time I see my married name written down. It gives me a little shock. Like the earth has moved or something shifted and will never be quite the same.
“We could talk about making those for the store, you know,” she says, mistaking my emotion for something entirely different. She’s been partnering with businesses around town to create their own signature mugs, promoting herself and the business at the same time.
“That’s a great idea,” I say. “Though to be honest, the coffee we have at the store is an insult. I think Noah doesn’t want to change it because of you. Like, the only good coffee should be here.”
Millie laughs. “I have a better idea. Why don’t I sell you the coffee, wholesale, don’t make a profit, but you package it in Easy Monday cups and have a list of the offerings we have here in store?”
