Clem shrugged. ‘I was, but mostly just in and out, dropping off the food.’
‘You must have an idea which ladies he liked best. Did you see them smooching for the cameras? Any catfights?’ Clem’s grandfather called from the neighbouring table.
‘You’ve got your hearing aid turned up high, haven’t you Pop?’ Clem scolded, clearing his plates. ‘You know I didn’t see anything, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you lot.’
She slipped into the kitchen, putting an end to the speculation, and as she ferried the next orders out, she glanced at the table in the corner where Spencer had sat on Saturday, so wrapped up in his writing that he’d missed the pony club secretary storming out in anger.
Imagine being so immersed in something you love.
The wayward thought caught her by surprise. She loved the cafe, the cooking, the customers and her little team. Didn’t she?
Clem shook her head, dismissing the thought, along with the churning in her guts when she recalled the paperwork waiting for her when the girls were in bed tonight, and the inventory she had put off longer than she should.
I love it most of the time.
She watched Selina taking orders and clearing plates from the outside tables, her lips pressed into a tight smile as a customer pointed to the menu, then gestured to his friend opposite. Modifying a dish perhaps, or asking Selina’s opinion? Whatever his query, Selina’s shrug and brief answer looked nothing like Sebastian’s animated upselling technique, or Kev’s wholehearted menu endorsements. Clem checked the table docket after they left. They hadn’t ordered anything more than the coffees they’d started with.
Clem deliberated over the best way forward as she filled the last orders, but her carefully scripted reprimand fizzled on her tongue when she overheard Kev and Selina cleaning up.
‘What’s on for the rest of the day, Selina? Studying? Shopping? Scrolling?’
Clem kept her eyes on the cabinet she was rearranging, but she heard the swish of Selina’s mop pause for a moment before the teenager sighed. ‘I’m already grounded, and Mum confiscated my phone. Studying, I guess.’
Her dejected tone reminded Clem of her own angsty teenage years. Her grandparents had chosen compassion over criticism each time she messed up, surely she could dig a little deeper and afford her second cousin that same courtesy …
She waved Selina and Kev off, studied the paperwork cluttering up her desk and reached for the colourful markers.
Stuff the spreadsheets and catering contract updates, we need a new cafe motto.
Sunny Cross Farm Gate Cafe = Great food, great service and good vibes ALWAYS.
Clem decorated the words with a border of stars, sunflowers and coffee mugs before checking her watch. She only had two hours until Jack dropped the girls home from school and daycare.
She locked the cafe doors and switched her work uniform for exercise gear.
Which podcast today?
She chose a business podcast for the walk, but after half an hour she was tired of the announcer’s eternal optimism and scalability suggestions. She wasn’t sure how cashed-up the average small business owner was, but she certainly didn’t have unlimited funds to spend on the kind of marketing campaigns the podcast recommended. Her fingers hovered over the screen as a podcast on healing and thriving after trauma popped up as a suggestion, based on her previous listening history, but she swiped past that too. She’d given that topic way too much brainpower since the maternity ward fiasco, and was determined to put it behind her, where it belonged.
A hare hopped along the limestone road in front of her, and Clem typed ‘dating as a single mum’ into the podcast app. She hadn’t been expecting much, and was surprised to find hundreds of shows to choose from.
She chose a British podcast, and the presenters’ candid discussion had her in stitches as she walked along the quiet country road.
She was halfway through a second episode when Mia phoned.
‘Hey, I’ve been meaning to call you. How’s life at home with little Fred?’
‘Oh, he’s a dreamboat, sleeps, feeds, repeats. I’ve barely gotten out of my PJs, but that’s beside the point. I’ve got goss for you.’
‘Goss?’
Clem was halfway home, between the limestone ruins and Sunny Cross Cafe, and she paused, suddenly wary of what Mia had to say.
‘Now don’t be alarmed, but I got pretty good at eavesdropping in the maternity ward, and I might have scored a few phone numbers and swapped a few Snapchat handles.’
Clem wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that.
‘What? You were scoping out single guys from the hospital bed? You’re as bad as Hazel.’
