This morning, the family group chat “Beanstalk Builders” is buzzing with activity. Reuben sent a photo of a crooked coathook he wanted to fix, Kenna followed with five clapping emojis, and Lucie contributed a TikTok teaser idea. I chuckle as I read it. They’re chaos, but they’re my chaos.
We round the corner, and I spot the cafe in front of us, the wooden boards still up on the windows, blocking out the view of what is happening inside. The smell of freshly baked goods is already on my mind. But the “COMING SOON” sign still proudly displays in the window, stopping me from fully living out my dreams.
“Morning, Millie!” Lila, the supermarket owner, calls from her doorway. Her hair is in the same bun at her neck, like I’ve always known.
The espresso machine hasn’t shipped yet, so I haven’t been able to experiment with any fun drinks, but I have been baking at home and bringing in treats every day for the trial run.
My brothers assembled the custom tables that arrived over the weekend. I’ve spent months carefully selecting paint samples and designing the perfect tables, and they look like were pulled straight from a vintage magazine. We’ve collected mismatched chairs, each telling a story of the many thrift stores I explored. My café is exactly how I envisioned it, and I planned every detail down to the last napkin.
Every corner of this place holds a piece of me.
The café will open soon, but I want everything to be perfect. I’ve dreamt of this place for so long.
I want my café to be a cozy escape for the residents of Cherry Falls.
I want it to feel like a cozy escape—where laughter feels louder, coffee tastes warmer, and strangers become regulars.
Harlow follows me inside, still shaking her head. “I’m honestly surprised you’re not sick of this place yet.”
I laugh as I tie my apron on, the familiar feel of the fabric wrapping around my waist like a second skin
“I’m not worn out. I’ve been carrying the dream of openingthis place for years, and now it’s finally alive,” I say, moving to the freezer to pull some pastries to put on the counter.
“This place isn’t just about coffee and pastries, Har. It’s a place for the community, for the people to feel like they belong. It’s about slowing down and enjoying the moment.”
“That’s very ‘Hallmark heroine’ of you,” Harlow teases. “Next thing you know, some hot stranger is going to waltz into town and shake things up.”
When I finish getting the pastries out to thaw, I head into my small office in the back. I check my email for any updates on the rest of the furniture delivery and then to see if my contractor sent a firm date for the opening. I make a to-do list to keep me on track for hopefully opening soon.
1.Open the cafe
2.Serve customers
3.Email Kenna my choices for tables, chairs, and couches
4.Order display case for bakery items
5.Message Kenna about fabric samples
6.Have a Good Day!
Making lists is my coping mechanism.
In high school, I started creating agendas, occasionally organizing them into a block schedule. Of course, I always followed it to a T.
Something about making a list or blocking time on my schedule has always helped me handle the worry of having a busy schedule.
I check my watch and see that it is already 8:30. I decide to spend the rest of my time in the front preparing for the day since the cafe isn’t formally open for business.
The next hour and a half flies by as I restock the limitedpastries I offer and refill all the variations of milk, creamers, coffees, and teas. I turn to find Harlow leaning against the doorframe with a tray of the warmed croissants in hand.
She looks like she just walked out of a Pinterest board for casual perfection—jeans, a loose blouse, and a confident smile that always seems to have a calming effect on me.
“I’m not pacing,” I reply quickly, straightening up and smoothing my hands down my apron. “Just thinking.”
“Uh-huh. About how you’re gonna mess up the soft opening of the business you have put your blood, sweat, and tears into?” Harlow teases, crossing the room and setting the tray down on the counter. She has always read my mind, sometimes almost too well.
“You’ve been obsessing over every little detail for months, Mills. Beanstalk is going to be a hit. People will line up down the street just to get a seat.”
