What's Done in Darkness (8 page)

Mostly, I cleaned tables and took orders only if I was beckoned. By the end of the morning, I was figuring out how to use the computer system. Alexis, the woman I'd first met yesterday, was working the busy patio. She also helped Katrina make the various coffee drinks and smoothies.

There was a small kitchen, where extra pastries and desserts were kept and the sandwiches and French fries made. Christian was the one who prepared the sandwiches and fries, while the desserts and pastries came from a bakery a block away.

Lunch was hectic, with noon marking the start of when alcohol was served. Many people from local businesses stopped in for coffee and a sandwich to go, and I helped take the orders while Katrina filled them. Alexis was busy on the patio, with more people wanting to sit outside and enjoy a beer or a coffee beverage.

“The place is busier than I thought,” I said to Katrina when I brought her an order for two BLT sandwiches and fries, plus two fruit smoothies.

“Lunch is always busy,” she said. “And the weekends.”

When one thirty rolled around and the crowd had thinned out, I was relieved. I'd been worried that I was going to screw something up, but all had gone well.

“You survived your first hectic lunch hour,” Katrina said, coming to stand beside me at the far end of the counter, where I was taking a moment to drink some lemonade.

“Thanks.”

“You're a natural. Really great with everyone, from what I saw.”

I smiled. Then noticed an older lady, who'd been sitting by herself and sipping a tea for about half an hour, beckon me over.

“That's Mrs. Sturgess,” Katrina explained. “She comes in every day. Lost her husband four months ago, poor thing.”

I made my way over to the table. “All finished with your tea?” I asked.

“Yes, and I'd like another. I'll also have one of those chocolate chip cookies.”

“Sure thing.”

“Can you warm it in the microwave? Katrina knows how I like it.”

“Absolutely.”

I went to the counter to ring in the order. “She said she'd like a chocolate chip cookie, warmed. She said you know how she likes it?”

“It's the same for everybody. Fifteen seconds in the microwave.”

I found the largest cookie from the pastry display and brought it to the microwave on the counter while Katrina got the peppermint tea bag and a small kettle with boiling water. Once everything was ready, I carefully carried the items over to Mrs. Sturgess's table.

“There you go,” I said.

“Thank you, dear. And whenever you're ready, you can bring me my bill.”

“Of course.”

Suddenly Mrs. Sturgess tsked, and I looked at her with concern. “Such a shame, isn't it?”

“Excuse me?”

With a flick of her head, she gestured to the television perched high on the wall behind the counter. It was set to an all-news channel and had no volume. “That couple in Mexico. Murdered just outside of their hotel.”

“Oh?” I'd been too busy trying to learn the ropes to really pay attention to the television.

Mrs. Sturgess shook her head. “That place has become far too dangerous.”

I looked over my shoulder, saw the photo of a smiling young man and woman in a corner of the screen while a male newscaster was speaking. The closed captioning was on, and I quickly read the summary:

Honeymooning couple murdered in Cancun.

“Gosh, that is awful,” I said, and frowned slightly. “And on their honeymoon.”

“Their poor families. I lost my George four months ago, but at least it was a heart attack. The good Lord took him. It's been hard, but I can't even imagine how those parents must feel. Losing your children to murder.”

“Oh God. I know. It's so sad.”

“Jade?” Katrina called.

“Excuse me,” I said to the woman, and made my way back to the counter.

“Figured you could use some saving,” Katrina explained in a hushed tone when I got there. “Mrs. Sturgess is very sweet, but she can go on and on.”

“It's hard, losing your spouse. My dad was never quite the same after my mother died.”

“Let's not start on about your dad again,” Katrina said.

Her blunt tone caught me off guard.
Start on about my dad again? Is that what she thinks? That I went on and on about my loss?

“I just mean,” she quickly went on, “that now is not the time to get all weepy and depressed. We've got a full house, and we have to remain upbeat.”

“I'm sorry if you think I'm going on and on about my dad,” I said, hurt and stunned by the comment. I didn't get why she would say that, especially since she'd talked about losing her parents. Certainly she understood the pain.

“That's not what I meant,” she said. “Look, I know it hurts, but when we lose people, we just have to move on. We still have to live.” She started to bend down. “I know; I'll change the music.”

She reached under the counter, and several seconds later the music changed from mellow to funky. As she stood tall, she began to shake her head to the beat. “Ahh, that's more like it. Nothing better than a bit of shoulder bopping to get you through the rest of the day.”

“Right,” I said, my voice tight.

“Jeez, Jade. Lighten up. Are you always this sensitive?”

Was
I being sensitive?

“Guys don't like it when women whine and get depressed.” She gave me a pointed look. “Just saying.”

My lips parted, and I gaped at her. So now she was saying that my attitude had sent Wesley running? She knew nothing about my relationship with Wesley!

“Excuse me,” I said, and started for the back of the shop. Tears were already burning my eyes, and I felt my ire rising.

How dare Katrina make me out to be some sort of emotional cripple? I barely knew her. What gave her the right to make those kinds of judgments about me?

I went into the bathroom, locked the door, then reached into my apron pocket and withdrew my cell phone. I was ready to call Marie, tell her I was returning home. I wasn't about to spend the summer working for someone so insensitive.

My fingers hovered over the phone, about to write the text. And then I remembered Wesley's words at the hospital.

It's like you want to hang on to your pain, let the world know you're suffering.

Was that really how I came across to people?

“Shit,” I muttered. Then I blew out a frazzled breath. Maybe
I
was the problem and I was too blind to see it.

No sooner than the thought came into my head, there was a knock at the door. “Jade?” came Katrina's voice.

“I'll be out in a minute,” I said.

“Look, I didn't mean to be harsh. I just … I don't want to see you sink into depression. You're in Florida. Endless sunshine, great weather. A chance for a new start.”

I opened the door and forced a smile onto my face. “I know,” I said. “And I get it. I'm going to do my best to keep the past in my rearview mirror and focus on the future.”

Katrina grinned from ear to ear. “That a girl.”

“By the way,” I said. “We didn't talk about it, but do you want me working till nine?” That was when the shop had closed yesterday.

“If it's not too much, yes.”

“It's fine,” I told her. “The more hours I work, the more money I make.”

“As I expand, I hope to eventually hire staff to work a morning and an evening shift. I'm even thinking of keeping the shop open until ten or eleven a few days of the week. I'll see as time goes by. For now, I'm still feeling my way around the business.”

“Like I said, I'm happy to work.”

And work was good. It would keep me too busy to sit around worrying about my life.

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

A week later, I was getting into a flow at the café. I knew how to use the computer, and I was starting to learn to make some of the specialty drinks. I was enjoying being a waitress and definitely loving the tips.

But I was still learning all of the ropes, so I was surprised when Katrina asked me to oversee the coffee shop on Thursday afternoon, saying that she and Christian had to run out and do something.

“Oh,” I said. “You're sure?”

“It's always slower in the afternoons,” she said, taking off her apron. “And between you, Tony, and Alexis I'm sure you can handle it.”

“And if we can't?” I asked, feeling a spurt of panic.

“You'll be fine.”

“Where are you going?” I asked.

She just gave me a little smile, then headed toward the front of the café, where Christian was waiting. When she met up with him, they immediately linked hands and walked through the door.

They were an enigma. One minute so romantic, as if they couldn't bear to be apart. The next, fighting intensely.

I guessed some couples got off on that kind of drama.

*   *   *

Katrina and Christian returned to the shop around five, but a quick glance to see that all was running smoothly was all that Katrina gave it before she and Christian went upstairs. After six, they both came back down, wearing different clothes. As Katrina walked by me, I could smell the whiff of freshness. She'd showered.

She and Christian went into the kitchen, and Alexis sidled up to me behind the front counter. When I looked at her, I saw that her lips were twisted in a lopsided grin. “I swear, those two screw like bunnies.”

And they fight like cats and dogs,
was the thought that popped into my mind, but I didn't say it. In the shop at least, Katrina and Christian seemed to be harmonious.

“I still don't get it,” I said. “The two of them together. And it's not just that they seem mismatched physically. Christian started asking me to play chess with him because Katrina never will. I barely understand the game, but I felt sorry for him so tried playing with him a couple of times because Katrina dismisses him completely. I never see them sit down and watch a show together. In fact, Katrina seems annoyed when Christian watches
SpongeBob
and
South Park
. She's only interested in
Law and Order
and reality crime shows.”

“Not to mention that the only time she runs is when she's heading into a store to go shopping,” Alexis said. “Every morning, like clockwork, I see Christian jogging by my house. I find it so hard to believe they connected during a marathon.”

I shrugged. “Sounds like they connected because of loss. He lost his brother; she lost her parents.”

“Perhaps. I also know that the day after he arrived, she went on a shopping spree.”

“What?”

“She bought some expensive shoes and clothes, a new laptop, and that big TV in the corner of the café, as well as those two armchairs in that corner nook.” Alexis angled her head and gave me a curious look.

“You think she's using him for his money?” I asked.

“Hey, who am I to judge? Obviously, Christian's getting something out of the relationship or he wouldn't be here.”

He sure was. A ton of sex. But I wondered if Alexis would have a different opinion if she knew how much they fought.

“But if she
is
using him, I wouldn't be surprised,” Alexis said. “Christian Alexander Begley,” she went on, feigning a British accent. “He's loaded.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“I Googled him.”

I took my phone out of my apron pocket. “Christian Alexander Begley?” I asked. “
L-e-y
or
l-y
?”

“
L-e-y,
” Alexis said.

I typed his name into Google. As results were popping up, I heard Alexis say, “Oh, sorry. Did you want to order something?”

I looked up and saw Gordon, a guy who had been a regular since I'd started working at the café, was standing on the other side of the counter. “I did, yes,” he said.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket. “Sorry, Gordon. Did you want another cup of coffee?”

“At the risk of giving myself a heart attack, yes.” He smiled warmly. “And I was looking at these treats.”

“Did you want another Colombian coffee?” I asked. “Or perhaps a lighter brew?”

When I reached for a new mug, Gordon said, “Actually, let me just get my mug from the table.”

I grabbed a menu and walked around from behind the counter, then went over to his table. I'd been chatting, slacking off when I should have been working.

Gordon snagged the mug, then turned. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw that I was at the table.

“I'll get you what you need,” I told him. “You sit.”

“Oh, okay.”

When he sat, I passed him the menu. “We've got sandwiches, treats. French fries.”

Gordon nodded as he regarded the small laminated menu. I figured he was familiar with the menu, however, considering he came in every day. A creature of habit, he occupied this table near the front window every day. He arrived early and stayed for hours.

“I think I'll just have a toasted bagel with cream cheese,” he said. “And what would you recommend instead of Colombian coffee? Something gentler on my stomach?”

“Do you like Irish Cream? Or French Vanilla? Or we have a light roast. It's really good.”

“I'll have the light roast. Black.”

“Sure thing.”

“So how are you liking Florida so far?” Gordon asked before I could turn to head toward the kitchen.

“Oh. I'm loving it. It's beautiful. I've got no complaints, since I love the hot weather.”

“It's a lot hotter than Buffalo.”

“For sure,” I agreed. During one of our brief chats before, I'd told Gordon that I was a student at UB. “Although Buffalo can get pretty hot and uncomfortable in the summer. At least here, there's the ocean.” Glancing outside the window at the patio with happy people, I nodded. “I love Florida.”