Their excitement, their noise, their sheer chaos...it’s one of the main reasons why Cup & Cake exists in the first place. To be a warm place when the world feels cold.
The next few hours fly by in a blur of coffee orders, cupcake frosting, and giggling customers.
When I finally glance back at the booth near the window, the man in the fisherman’s hat is gone.
Strange. I wonder if he was supposed to meet someone. I make a mental note to ask Ashton whether he ordered anything or just lingered. I don’t have time to dwell on it when more customers walk in.
By three o'clock, I'm finally in my office, surrounded by order sheets and invoices.
I lean back, stretch my aching arms, and smile at the little sticky note taped to my computer screen.
A reminder that even small, silly dreams matter.
I’ve been applying to conservation programs since college.
Sea turtles. Wildlife rehab centers. Elephant projects. Big cat sanctuaries. Anything that would let me help something that couldn’t protect itself.
Sometimes I got polite rejections. Sometimes I got waitlisted. Sometimes I never heard back at all.
After a while, I stopped telling people I was applying. It was easier that way.
But the big cat programs were always the ones I wanted most. Lions. Cheetahs. Rescues. Sanctuaries. Places where the work was quiet and unglamorous and necessary.
I told myself that rescuing Dr. Doom, taking care of strays, and doing what I could here was enough.
Most days, it is.
But every year, I still fill out the applications.
Just in case.
Moments later, I step out from the back with a towel still draped over my shoulder and freeze when I see a box on the counter. It’s a full case of honey jars, neatly stacked, the tops still glistening.
Ashton leans against the register, sipping her iced latte.
I lift a brow. “Scarlett was here?”
She nods. “Yeah. Slid in like a ninja and dropped that off while you were in the back.”
I frown. “I didn’t even hear the bell.”
Ashton says, “Yeah, she’s a sneaky one.”
I glance at the box again, then toward the door. “She seems… good lately. Don’t you think?”
Ashton tilts her head. “Actually, yeah. Lighter. Happier.”
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “I’ve noticed it too. I wonder why.”
I watch the door a second longer than I mean to. “Maybe she finally got past that messy divorce,” I say.
My cousin Scarlett has always been kind. Just… quieter than most. For a long time, it felt like she was carrying something heavy.
Lately, she isn’t. Whatever changed, I’m happy for her.
“Whatever it is,” Ashton says, “it suits her.”
I notice the side of the box.
