Page 32 of Falling For Alaska

Alaska

“One Earl Grey for you, sweetie, and one macchiato,” Sherry says while humming a song, placing hot beverages on our table. She’s about my mom’s age, her short blonde hair tied back with a white bandana. Black eyeliner frames her eyes and she’s wearing a mid-length blue skirt scattered with small black dots. There’s something unmistakably retro about her, like a pinup stepped out of a World War II poster and right into the present.

“It’s adorable, thank you so much,” Bella says, admiring the little creamy heart Sherry managed to paint on her coffee.

“Aw, you say that every time,” she says, rolling her eyes with delight. “Enjoy,” she adds, before turning back behind the counter where a crowd of customers is admiring the pastry display. Her bakery sits across my bookshop, and I try to meet Bella here as often as I can during the week. The coffee shop is like an extension of my bookstore, old-fashioned charm mixed with modern touches and soft colors. The kind of place that makes you want to curl up with a good book for hours, listening to Sherry’s cheerful voice chatting with regulars in the background. Fairy lights hang from the ceiling, casting a gentle glow over the wooden tables and mismatched chairs. Scent of fresh, buttery pastries, cinnamon, and vanilla filling the air. Behind the counter, a glass display shows off cakes so pretty they could belong in a magazine. I hold my mug close to my chest, trying to warm my cold fingers. It never really works; my hands are always cold, no matter what I do.

“You’re one hundred percent sure?”

“Yes, really. Your parents are so nice to offer though, but I’ll be alright.”

“What about your parents? Can’t you go there tonight and stay until the storm’s over?”

“You know I don’t like sleeping there…I—” I twist my lips. There’s just something about staying overnight in your childhood home that makes me itchy. Like stepping backward into a version of yourself you’ve outgrown. Bella finds it comforting, I don’t. I’d rather be at my place.

“I know, I know,” she mutters. “Jared said there could be flooding and a blackout. What will you do if it happens? Your house is basically lost in the woods-”

“It’s not lost in the woods,” I smile. “I’m fifteen minutes from Main Street.”

“Still-”

“It’s not my first storm, don’t worry. I have flashlights, a small generator, and enough flour to bake cakes until I’ve got grey hair.” I chuckle softly. “It’ll be alright.” She looks at me hesitantly.

“If you say so... Alright. But we’ll FaceTime, so I’ll know you’re okay.” She points her finger at me. Her long black hair dances over her shoulders, and her pink blouse and soft gray cardigan give her the usual graceful, effortless look. I’m wearing a thick, striped wool sweater, a denim mini skirt, black tights, and knee-high boots. Cute and warm, just how I like it. I’d rather people notice my outfit than my hands. Besides, the sleeves are long enough to roll over my fingers and hide the scars. Win-win.

“What about you? Where are you staying?”

“Daycare’s closed tomorrow, so I’ll be at my parents’. Mom’s already worried sick about Jared being out there making sure everyone’s safe.” She sips her coffee. Jared will be out there. I should’ve remembered. During storms and floods, officers help the fire department with patrols and support. But does that mean-

“He said Jack will be patrolling in a separate unit so they can cover more ground.” He’ll be alone during the storm. My gut twists at her words. Why should it matter to me anyway? It’s not like I didn’t run away from him like an idiot the last time I saw him.

“By the way, Jared says he’s alright, you know,” Bella says gently, stopping herself from resting her hand over mine. “I met him. He’s quite nice, a bit rough around the edges, but I think a caveman might actually suit you.” I laugh, the sound surprising even me. Bella’s eyes expand.

“Wow.”

“What?”

“I didn’t realize I hadn’t heard you laugh like that in a while.” I stop laughing and smooth both sides of my hair.

“You always make me laugh, you know that.”

“No, not really. I’d forgotten the sound after all this time,” she says, a hesitant smile lifting one corner of her mouth. I take another sip and decide to lower the wall I’ve been carrying around me for so long.

“Jack’s nice,” I whisper.

“He sure is,” she replies with a knowing look. “And he seems like someone who’s seen enough in life to handle your story,” she adds, not backing down. That’s what I’ve always admired about Bella, she’s brave. She isn't afraid to say what's on her mind.

“Yeah, I don't know…maybe.” I shrug, my hands tingling.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” she says, then takes a bite of her cinnamon roll. I glance out the window. The rain is picking up, droplets collecting like pearls on the glass. The storm is coming.

“What about you? Any future husband in sight?” She laughs, shaking her head.

“Zero. Nada,” she says, hand to her chest in mock tragedy. “Unless they open a new fire station in town, I’m out of luck. Until then,” she adds with an exaggerated sigh, “I’ll have to settle for my fictional men.”

“Are they giving you a hard time at daycare?”

She groans, resting her chin in her hand. “Always. You ever try reasoning with a three-year-old who insists the crayon he just ate is actually a snack?” Her smile is wide and full of love. She complains, but there’s no doubt she adores her job. I chuckle, shaking my head.