He slips out into the night.
The bell chimes overhead, the sound reverberating through the space before silence swallows it whole again.
Curiosity gnawing at me, I pick up the paper and start reading:
For years, Maddy’s Place Café has served as more than just a coffee shop.It has been a vital heartbeat in our Madison community.Continuing the welcoming legacy established by Mary Alston, Amy Beckett has maintained Maddy’s Place as a cherished space where neighbors meet and the simple comfort of connection is always available.It is an essential part of our neighborhood’s unique character and daily life.
Now, this beloved local establishment faces an uncertain future.Maddy’s Place is at serious risk of closure because of circumstances concerning its lease renewal.Losing Maddy’s Place would be a significant loss, diminishing the vibrancy and close-knit feel of our community.
We, the undersigned customers, neighbors, and friends, strongly believe Maddy’s Place is invaluable.We urge the property owner, Harold Bancroft, to recognize the immense community support for this café and to work in good faith with Amy Beckett to find a fair and sustainable solution that allows Maddy’s Place to continue serving us all for years to come.
My jaw drops.I stare at the door he just walked out of.
The paper shakes in my hands as I reread his words.
He didn’t just help.He gave this fight a voice.
A brilliant legal voice that speaks for the entire community.
He understood my struggle and gave me a gift I didn’t even know how to ask for.
“Shit.” The word tumbles out on a breath.A knot of dread twists in my gut.
I messed up.
EIGHTEEN
ADRENALINE THRUMS BENEATH my skin.A poor substitute for sleep.It’s residue from last night, kicked into higher gear by this morning’s coffee, but it’s the only thing keeping me functional.Standing beside my desk, I run my thumb almost reverently over the crisp edge of a freshly printed petition sheet.
“We urge the property owner, Harold Bancroft to recognize the immense community support for this café and to work in good faith with Amy Beckett to find a fair and sustainable solution that allows Maddy’s Place to continue serving us all for years to come.”
Matthew’s statement…
Transcribed late last night from the single sheet he’d filled with his strong, decisive script.He’d captured the soul of Maddy’s Place, Mary’s legacy, and the community’s heart with an effortless precision that had completely eluded me.The memory of the encounter still swirls in my mind, a chaotic rush of Matthew’s intensity, his departure, and the sharp sting of regret over my outburst.
But regret is a luxury I can’t afford.
I glance at the neat, thick stack of petition sheets on the corner of my desk.
They’re ready as promised.
I take a deep, steadying breath, placing the sheet I’m holding carefully on top of the stack.
“Alright, let’s see what you’ve put together,” Lou’s excited voice floats in right before his slightly stooped figure appears in the open doorway.
He steps inside, his gaze bypassing me to land on the stack of papers.“I knew you’d get it done,” he says, picking up the top sheet and adjusting his glasses.
He reads, his brow furrowed in concentration, before smoothing out into a look of approval.
“This is superb, Amy,” he says, letting out an appreciative hum.
“What’s superb?What’d I miss?”Helen enters, balancing a tray with three steaming mugs.She kicks the door shut behind her.
“Lou’s reading the petition statement,” I tell her.
“Nice.”Her face lights up.She hands me one of the mugs after placing the tray beside my computer.“Let me see this.”She snatches the paper right out of Lou’s hand.
He sighs in fond exasperation, shaking his head.“Is one of those for me?”
