Inside the cafe, I’m greeted first by Kiki’s sister, Kendra, as she sits at the bar top waiting for her breakfast sandwich to-go. Being close in age, the redheaded sisters almost look like twins, but their personalities set them entirely apart. Besides Kendra having shorter hair, I’ve identified a few key differences between the two. Kendra has a dimple on the left side of her cheek when she smiles, and Kiki tends to have an indignant expression on her face at all times, her eyebrows are tilted in a perpetual furrow. She’s also the more outspoken of the two. Kendra’s aura gives off kind and bubbly energy, while Kiki’s, kind as it may be, makes people take a step back.
Kendra lets out a banshee shriek when she sees me and nearly falls off her stool. She stumbles and falls into an embrace around my torso. My ears are still ringing when she pulls back to look at me.
“I’m so glad to see you,” she cries with joy. “Honey, where have you been? When I heard what happened, I wanted to march on over to the police station and smack that hooligan myself for what he did to you!” She makes an obvious effort to avoid looking at my neck as she says this.
I knew people would start asking questions the minute I showed my face back in town, but I at least hoped to get a coffee first. Kendra’s doting, motherly spirit doesn’t concern me though. I know she means well and only wants to check on me.
“Thank you, Kendra,” I placate. “I’m just grateful he’s gone.”
Shehumphsand nods curtly. “Sit down, sweetheart. Get yourself a coffee.”
“Precisely my plan.”
Though she’s only ten years older than me, Kendra has always felt like a motherly figure. My mother isn’t a bad mother, but she’s never been quite as doting as Kendra. Though she cares for me, I believe my mother’s first priority will always be the coven, and I can’t blame her for that. Especially given I don’thave magic. Why would she waste time on me when witches under her supervision need her more?
I take in Kendra’s outfit and fawn over her creativity. She’s wearing a black jumpsuit with golden suns and moons creating a pattern across the fabric, and accented with gold eyeliner to match. To tie it all together, she’s added a red patchwork cardigan over top for a pop of color.
“You’re always so stylish,” I compliment her. “And autumn is your best time of year.”
“I wholeheartedly agree.” She twirls on the spot before sitting back down, and I hear a whoop from the back corner.
“Thanks, Maurice!” Kendra takes a dramatic bow.
I’m pretty sure the bar owner has had the hots for her since they were in school together.
The cook behind the open window snaps his fingers appraisingly, but then Kiki steps out from the kitchen, the two-way doors swinging wildly in her wake.
“Kenny, why are you shouting so early in the morning?” the older sister demands.
Kendra freezes in place and looks abashed. She brushes over her cardigan as if flattening invisible wrinkles then plops back on the stool beside me. Meanwhile, I’m fighting to hide an enormous grin.
Kiki stomps over to where Kendra and I are sitting at the counter with a scowl on her face. “Why are you disruptin’ my customers?” Her straight red hair is pulled up into a bun and covered with a hairnet, loose strands protruding from every opening.
Kendra looks offended. “I wasn’tdisruptin’anybody.”
“We were just admiring her fashion sense, Kiki,” I say, attempting to ease the tension.
The disgruntled sister turns to me and her scowl fades. “Raegan, you’re back.”
I didn’t realize not showing my face in town for two days would result in everyone thinking I left, but I guess that goes to show how upsetting the routine of a small town can throw everyone off kilter.
“I decided to take a vacation,” I tell her, and everyone in earshot. The entire cafe has quieted enough that they clearly want to hear the conversation. Both sisters’ eyes roam over my throat, looking for the bruise, but my hair is covering most of it from sight. “I’m fine,” I add. “Just glad it’s over.”
Kiki gives me a pitying grin, and I can tell she wants to say more, but unlike Kendra, she keeps her comments to herself. “Alright!” she barks, clapping her hands to grab everyone’s attention. “Everyone back to your breakfast! This ain’t a soap opera!” The murmur of individual conversations fills the air, and just like that, the cafe resumes order.
Kendra scoots her stool closer and leans in. Apparently she isn’t done prying. “I haven’t seen Jamie around much either,” she suggests. “Is he with you?”
“Not right now, but we umm–just hung out at my place until things died down.”
Her eyebrows arch. “He stayed with you?”
I hesitate. “Yeah, he just wanted to make sure I was okay.”
Now her playful curiosity turns to concern. “Oh sweetheart,” her voice steady with a sudden awareness. “Of course. I should have known what happened would trigger a panic attack.”
Hearing it from her makes me cringe. Like I’m a patient in need of a padded room. Kendra is the only other person who has witnessed one of my episodes, but still, she doesn’t truly understand how bad it can get.
I had been extremely stressed at work one day, and Kendra happened to be browsing the shelves. A disagreement with a customer led to me hyperventilating behind the counter, so Kendra pulled me aside and dragged us to the back corner of thestore. In the very last row of books, beneath the dusty sign saying ESSAYS AND POETRY, I allowed myself five minutes to panic, and Kendra was right there the entire time holding my hand. She told me she suffered from panic attacks as a teenager, but that the anxiety never really goes away. You just learn to manage it.
