brother?”
The elderly couple gasped, and she rolled her eyes. “Your brother lives in Detroit, and he’s an idiot.” She thumped Dan in the center of his chest. “So are you. It’s me, Dan. I’m paying attention to myself.”
He didn’t seem to register the chest poke. He was so deep in concentration. “Who? Who is it?”
The boy behind the counter handed over her coffee and breakfast to go. She picked up the cup and decided she really didn’t want to waste caffeine on Dan’s khakis, so she headed for the door.
“Janie.”
She turned, and it seemed the entire room waited.
“Do not walk out that door.”
She laughed. That wasn’t the best that he could do. “Good one. Did that work before?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never had to use it.”
She waited for him to remember the real weapon.
“Your son needs you.”
She nodded. That was the way to control a mom, but it wasn’t going to work. “He’s gone for a month. I have a month.”
“You do not have a month.”
“Have it and taking it, thank you very much.”
“What the hell are you going to do with a month, Janie?”
She took a sip of coffee, enjoyed the heat and aroma. “I have no idea.” But the days rolled out in front of her like the blank page of a new calendar, and she loved that it was clean and white and unwritten.
It took her twenty minutes to drive back to Gastown, and in every one of those minutes she’d felt the anger and wild excitement vibrating out of her. Now both were gone, and panic and fear moved into the emptiness.
She parked in front of Gretchen’s store and looked up at the twin windows of the loft. She felt her body shaking as she reached for a cardboard tray that held the two coffees and a soda she’d picked up on the way. She got out of the van and gripped the drinks as she pushed open the door to Abundance, and struggled to keep herself upright in the dizziness that washed over her.
“Mara!” Celia beamed from the front counter.
“Yep, it’s me, Mara.” She felt her legs wobble and put the drinks down. She pulled one out and handed it to Celia. “Mocha for you.”
“How’d you know?” Celia asked.
“You’re a woman. It’s chocolate.”
“Thanks.” Celia looked as thankful about being called a woman as receiving a drink.
“Is Stella here?”
“Sure. Go on up.” Celia took a sip of her coffee and sighed.
Mara picked up the tray and walked through the workroom, dropping off the soda on Dylan’s table, as she made her way upstairs.
She moved down the hallway but hesitated before she got to Stella’s door. Why was she even considering staying in Vancouver? Why wasn’t she even now on her way home? And how could anybody justify—”
“Don’t think you can hide out there. I can smell the damn coffee.”
Mara moved into the doorway and walked over to Stella’s desk, handing her the cup. “Can I rent the loft for a month?” Saying it took her last bit of energy, and she sat heavily in the nearest chair. Her grandmother might have said the morning had taken the starch out of her. Maybe the starch leaching went back further than the dawn. The dawn of man kind maybe.
Stella didn’t instantly react, just took a drink of the coffee, black and strong. Mara had known better than to add coconut syrup, skim milk and whipped cream, or a shot of peach-wildberry, whatever wildberries were. Stella had learned to drink coffee in the fifties. She wouldn’t be the kind of woman who messed around with fruit.
Stella put her coffee down and tilted her head lower to get a good stare going over the top of her purple rimmed half-glasses. Mara wished she’d gotten herself another coffee so she had something in her hands, something to do while Stella studied her very soul and told her to straighten up and fly right, but Stella just shrugged. “Don’t know why not.”
“Don’t know why not?” Mara felt the edge of a crazy laugh that would lead to crying or blacking out or
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley