THIRTEEN
KRISTA
Thursday, One Day Before the Summer Swap
They stopped by the Maple Leaf Café on their way to the Hideaway to grab their lunch to go.
“Anita makes the best homemade chicken noodle soup, but it’s a bit impossible to eat while driving,” Krista said.
“I’m pretty adaptable, but even I don’t think I can manage that without burning myself.”
“Sandwiches it is.”
Krista hated to wolf down her sandwich in the car, but this was what her real life was like. There was rarely time to sit down, even for twenty minutes like yesterday. She tried to appreciate the freshly toasted sunflower seed bread, the crisp lettuce, the sweet honey turkey and that homemade mayo that everyone in town wanted the recipe for, but she was ravenous. She barely tasted it as she chewed, swallowed, reached for another bite.
“I feel like I’m watching a competitive sport,” Joe said, amused.
“Ope, hold on.” Krista burst out laughing as a smear of mayo escaped the side of his sandwich and made a run for the front of his shirt.
He huffed a laugh, putting his sandwich back on the wrapper on his lap and steered the car with his knee while quickly wiping off the extra mayo.
“It’s something you get used to, or you will this week.” Krista shrugged.
“Never slowing down to eat?” Joe asked.
“Exactly. If we’re swapping lives, you’re going to get used to multitasking, grabbing quick bites in between shifts for the next few days.”
Joe glanced at her. “You know, in much of Europe, places shut down for lunch. People take their time, have a rest. It’s one of the reasons I love it over there so much.”
Krista smiled at the thought, picturing the quiet streets and closed signs. The idea of a meal that didn’t come with a clock ticking in the background sounded heavenly. “That sounds impossibly perfect. Europe’s definitely a bucket list for me. Just haven’t made it happen yet.”
Her phone buzzed in her lap. She glanced down at the screen and winced.
One text from Ian:
Out of cups. Also the blender is making a weird noise.
One from another teenage employee:
So sorry, my mom needs the car. I might be like…forty minutes late?
And a third from a distributor reminding her she was two days overdue confirming the next coffee order.
“Is everything alright?” Joeglanced over.
“Just work stuff. It’s a good thing we’re almost there.”
They reached the Hideaway, the familiar clapboard building buzzing with low afternoon traffic. A couple of kayaks bobbed at the dock. Two teenagers shared a sundae on the far end of the patio, phones out, spoons clinking.
Closer, the air smelled like espresso, sugar, and citrus. Ian stood behind the counter with his wire-framed glasses perched high on his nose, his brown hair tousled, and not in the fashionably disheveled look popular high school boys were notorious for. No, Ian looked mildly panicked, repeatedly turning the blender off and on as if hoping it would quit making a weird grinding sound and just start working.
“Hey, boss,” he said when he spotted her. “We’re almost out of medium cups, someone asked about renting four kayaks for sunset, and I still have no idea what’s possessed the blender. I say we unplug it and pretend we’re out of smoothies.”
Krista pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay. First of all, good call on the blender. Second, did the delivery come in yet?”
“Just the berries,” Ian said. “No cups, no milk, and no coffee.”
She exhaled slowly and moved behind the counter. “Alright. I’ll call the supplier and see where the rest is. Joe, can you do me a favor?”
