“Man, even the franchises look adorable!” Charlie exclaimed as he got out, beaming at the Stop & Shop across the street. “Don’t you love it?”
“It’s great,” Will replied, his voice a steady monotone.
Charlie laughed. “Try to contain your excitement, Will. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
Will had a biting remark ready, but he swallowed it down. After all, Charlie wore his heart on his sleeve at all times. Will almost envied him.
“Oh, come on,” Charlie continued. “You’re the one who insisted on flying us out here in that steel death pencil. You can at least pretend to enjoy it.”
“Get me some coffee first.” Will started forward again, past a boutique selling what appeared to be designer baby clothes.
His friend let out a satisfied sigh. “Well, I love it. Just what Vivienne needs, too. Sun and the beach, and once we get her out of the house, she can go shopping and maybe even meet someone. Then—”
“Focus, Charlie.”
“Right, right.” His friend gave a decisive nod. “Coffee.”
They walked further down the block, past a row of luxury boutiques, until they reached a storefront with a sign in the window that readBennet Bakery. More importantly, there was another one underneath it that read:Coffee, $1.
A bell above the door dinged when they entered. There was a long glass counter running the length of the room displaying ascattered selection of pastries and muffins, while baskets full of baguettes lined the top. They blocked the view of the register, so it wasn’t until Will and Charlie were in the middle of the room that they noticed the man sitting behind it. He glanced up from his pile of paperwork, watching as Charlie took in the bakery’s muted yellow walls and mismatched tables and chairs. Meanwhile, Will zeroed in on the coffeemaker behind the counter.
“I’ll take a coffee,” Will said, approaching the man. Then he called over to his friend. “Charlie?”
“Hm?” He snapped out of his reverie and turned. “Oh! Um, can you do a decaf flat white?”
The man stared at Charlie blankly.
Will took out his wallet. “Make that two coffees.”
The man nodded, then turned to the coffeemaker and began filling two paper cups.
While Will waited, he looked down the row of baked goods under the glass. There was a small selection left—a few croissants, a couple of apple turnovers, some blueberry muffins. There was also an empty tray behind a small handwritten sign that read:Try our famous sour cherry muffins!
“Any more of the cherry muffins?” he asked.
The man leaned away from the coffeemaker and bellowed to the back room, “Any sour cherry left?”
Will followed the man’s gaze, looking through the doorway at the end of the counter into the kitchen. It was only then that he noticed that someone else was there: a woman. Her back was to him, but Will could see she was in overalls, with a mess of red hair thrown up in a bun on the top of her head. He’d never seen hair like that, every shade of crimson and copper and rust. Pulled together, it almost looked like a flame.
“Nope!” the woman yelled over her shoulder without turning around. Then she turned to her left and disappeared from view.
“Nope,” the man repeated, putting the two coffees on the counter. “Anything else?”
Will cleared his throat and brought his attention back to the pastries display. “We’ll take those croissants, then. A half dozen blueberry muffins, too.”
The man nodded and snapped open a white pastry box. “That all?”
Charlie snapped his fingers. “Oh! And a bar!”
The man paused. “A what?”
“Sorry,” Charlie said, catching himself. “This is our first summer out here. We’re renting a house on Georgica Beach. This modern one off—”
“Marv’s Lament?”
Charlie blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Marv’s Lament. That big glass house on Lily Pond Lane.”
