Lucy brought over his pork buns and coffee a moment later. Her hands were shaking slightly.
"Here you go. Six pork buns, black coffee."
"Thanks." Jake pulled out his wallet.
"You can pay at the counter when you're done."
"Oh. Right." Jake had never eaten here before. He didn't know the protocol.
Lucy hovered for a second, like she wanted to say something, then seemed to change her mind and headed back to the counter.
Jake opened the container of pork buns. They were still warm, the dough soft and perfect, the filling exactly the right combination of savory and sweet. He took a bite and allowed himself to just... appreciate it. Not eat quickly in his truck while driving home, but actually taste the food, notice the textures, the spices, the care that went into making them.
They were incredible. They'd always been incredible, but eating them here, in the space where they were made, somehow made them better.
Through the window, Jake watched Timber Falls wake up. Mrs. Henderson walking her ancient beagle. A group of high school kids heading toward the bus stop, backpacks weighing them down. Tom from the hardware store flipping the "OPEN" sign in his window.
This was his town. Not the town where he'd failed to make it in the NHL. Not the temporary stop before something better came along. Just... home.
"How are they?"
Jake looked up to find Lucy standing beside his table, coffee pot in hand.
"Amazing," he said honestly. "Same as always."
"My grandmother's recipe. I haven't changed anything in five years."
"You don't need to. It's perfect."
Lucy's cheeks flushed slightly. She gestured to the coffee pot. "Want a refill?"
"Sure."
She poured carefully, her movements precise and practiced. Up close, Jake noticed things he'd missed before: the small scar on her wrist from what was probably a kitchen burn, the flour permanently embedded in the creases of her hands, the way her eyes had these little flecks of gold mixed in with the dark brown.
"Can I ask you something?" Lucy said.
"Yeah."
"Why today? I mean, you've been coming here for three years. Why decide to sit down today?"
Jake considered lying, giving some easy answer about having time to kill. But something about the way Lucy was looking at him—direct, curious, genuinely interested—made him want to tell the truth.
"A friend told me I should stop just going through the motions," Jake said. "That I should actually show up to my life instead of just existing in it."
Lucy was quiet for a moment. Then: "That's good advice."
"You sound like you could use it too."
"Maybe." She smiled, and it was real—tired, but real. "I've been told recently that I work too much. That I need to have a life outside this place."
"Do you want a life outside this place?"
"I don't know. I think I've forgotten what that looks like." She glanced back at the counter, where Mae was very obviously pretending not to watch them. "I should get back to work. But... Jake?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you came in today. Even if you were late."
