My mother is annoyed. She pulls out a chair for my sister. “Now, Winnie, you need to watch your sister for me while I take your grandmother to the medical center.”
“Do you have a family-and-friends discount?” Gran comes over, her arms filled with stacks of books.
“Just take them, Gran. I’ll pay for it. Mom, Kathy can’t stay here. It’s galette day.” I check the timer and make sure I don’t miss taking the next batch out of the oven.
“Kathy needs to get out of the house, keep her spirits up. That will give me time to reorganize your kitchen.”
“Mom, no, please don’t. Also, Kathy is a grown woman. Maybe she could go for a walk somewhere else by herself.”
Mom is horrified.
“She’s a baby, a little girl. She can’t be out alone in the city, downtown. She could get kidnapped.”
“No one gets kidnapped in Seattle, Mrs. Larkspur,” Carolina assures her.
“Winnie, make sure Kathy doesn’t get into trouble.” She fishes a five-dollar bill out of her purse. “You two can order lunch. Something healthy. I’m going to try to get Kathy a modeling contract. Frances,” she says to her mother-in-law, “put those books back. I don’t want you bringing that trash into my house.”
“My house!” I yell after her.
Even in her hoodie and athleisure pants, Kathy—eyes puffy, cheeks flushed—looks like a sad aesthetic girl. It’s one of my hoodies, so the sleeves go to the fingertips. She slumps in the café seat across from me and pouts.
One of the influencers that seem to live in the café rushes over. “OMG, are you, like, a model? Yourcheekbones? Slay.”
Kathy brightens. “I did Abercrombie and Brandy Melville and—”
“Excuse me,” I interrupt. “We are having a meeting.”
“I want a coffee,” Kathy whines. “Oat milk, medium ice. Froth it, but not too much. And just two little dabs of the sugar-free caramel syrup.”
I sigh.
“Winnie, please,” Kathy cries. “One of the WAGs posted pictures of Knox and his new girlfriend. She took all my friends.”
“They weren’t your friends.” Carolina makes a face.
“No coffee, Kathy. You can’t just look pretty and have people give you stuff.”
“But why? That’s what people always do for me, because I’m a nice person, and people do nice things for nice people.” My sister pouts.
“No, they do nice things for pretty people, which in a few more years, won’t be you.”
Kathy’s lower lip quivers.
“No, don’t cry. It’s time for hard truths.”
“That’s all you ever give me. You’re never any fun.”
“Because someone has to be the adult.”
Kathy huffs and whines like she’s a teenager again, which she basically is.
“You have nothing to show for yourself,” I lecture. “Knox left you high and dry after you spent most of your adult relationship life with him, and all you have to show for it are Google search results for your name that say ‘Knox Yandle’s ex-girlfriend.’”
“Mom says I can work at your café. I like coffee. And decorating cookies. And coloring books.”
“We don’t have adult coloring books here.”
“Maybe weshould,” Carolina whispers to me. “You know, sip and color. Could be a good way to get people here in the evenings. We can start it at the location on Redwood. They have free parking after seven. Then roll it out to all locations. The package could include espresso martinis or Baileys hot chocolate—I don’t know, mix it up. We have that alcohol license we barely use.”
