“There we go.”
A smudge on the window’s been bothering me all day but I haven’t had time to properly clean it until the afternoon rush passed. I glance over as a junky car pulls in then hustle back inside to the glorious air conditioning.
It’s been several weeks since I started at Latte Da Coffee Stand and I’m finally getting the hang of this barista stuff. Luckily, my excellent customer service makes up for any mishaps I’ve had serving less than perfect orders. I haven’t lost Faye any returning customers, that I know of, so that’s a plus.
Apparently with all the college kids back in town after graduation and looking for a local coffee spot—not a chain!—to support, business has been booming. It’s not the easiest job for someone like me who’s not food gifted in the slightest, but the schedule allows for my night course to continue unhindered and the tips are great. Although, after falling in love with a certain someone with mocha swirled eyes, I will say I’ve become obsessed with the drink, giving me more motivation in learning how to make it correctly.
There hasn’t been a lot of alone time for me and Coty with the long hours I’ve had to put in, but we’ve been making it work. Coty’s also developed a serious coffee addiction but only during my shifts coincidentally. And I’ll admit that living next door to your boyfriend does have its benefits when you’re strapped for time.
With the offer on the property for their garage being accepted, the guys have been laying it on pretty damn thick in trying to convince me to accept the last remaining management position—that they made specifically for me. Digging my heels in with apprehension has only encouraged their efforts, much to my immense enjoyment. I finally conceded but only under the condition that we’d all get to know each other better, both as a unit and separately. Now every Friday before their usual parties we have family dinners together. It’s been going well so far—as long as I’m not the one cooking. This week I invited Drew, too, and am looking forward to seeing all the men in my life getting along.
Joe’s absence from my life has helped everyone to relax. Word has it his wife found out about the video and kicked him to the curb. I also heard a very pregnant Amity let him move in with her and the two are perfectly miserable together. Karma loves a good plot twist, doesn’t she?
The ding of the drive-thru sensor draws my attention to the window and I open it, ready to take the next order. Freezing in my spot, my chest tightens to almost painful and my lips clamp together. My mother’s smug grin tells me this is no coincidence and I exhale through my nose.
“What can I get you?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb, Ang. You’re a lot of things but naïve isn’t one of them. You know what I want.”
I relax my hold on the counter to lean forward on a heavy sigh.
“What happened to your other car?”
She waves a hand. “This is a loaner from a…friend.” I roll my eyes, knowing exactly what kind of friends Rianne keeps. “Just until I can get mine back. That’s why I’m here. I thought you should help with that.”
Dropping my head back, I stare at the ceiling, filling my lungs to the hilt. “And why should I help with that?” I pop up, meeting eyes that match my own in color but not in substance. “You somehow got a car that you couldn’t afford and I’m supposed to pay the bill? I don’t think so.” Maybe her friend should just let her keep this one, it fits her better anyway.
The bumper hanging off the front reminds me of the fake façade my mother puts up but has been slipping more and more lately, showing the true ruin lurking beneath. The rust spots are like the holes in her armor she’s spent so long using against both the world and me. Whiny clangs from the engine speak of an exhaustion her soul carries from never measuring up to society’s standards.
“Where are your guard dogs? I’m surprised they let you out of their sight after threatening my life.” I stifle another eye roll. “What? Did they give up on your Ice Queen act already, seeing you for the total nuisance you really are?”
Before I can respond, smoke begins to billow out from under the hood of her car.
“Shit!” Gripping both sides of the window, I jump out feet first and land on the blistering asphalt next to the driver’s door. I immediately reach through her open window to turn the keys, effectively shutting off the engine. My mother, frozen from either shock or embarrassment, starts to cry.
I quickly turn away, pulling out my phone. Coty talks me through a few simple steps to open the hood, then promises to handle the rest when he gets here.
With a swipe across my forehead, I see her shaking develop into a rolling boil and stop short. Car trouble is nothing new in Rianne’s life, having driven many lemons between boy-toys, but I’ve never seen her react like this. This is more. More than a crappy car overheating on a summer day. This is something else entirely. My heart squeezes as I push forward with a shaky façade of my own.
Even though she was just being a wretched bitch, she’s still blocking the only path for actual customers and I need her to leave as soon as possible—for everybody’s sake.
“Hey, it’s not that big of a deal. This summer’s been hard on everyone.” I nudge her shoulder, then drop my hand unsure what else to do with it before blurting, “I’m thirsty.”
Happy to have something to occupy my hands, I pour us frozen hot chocolates with whipped cream, making sure to put extra on mine. I inspect the drinks, then add more to hers.
Out back, I find her sitting in the shade. She accepts the frosty drink with a trembling hand. She doesn’t so much as thank me as I continue to stand, taking her in. Her smudged eyes have dark circles under them and her hair is matted in places I didn’t notice before. Her clothes are wrinkled and one of her flip-flops is being held together with a piece of duct tape. It’s a far cry from her usual put together self. The Rianne I know would never be out in public looking like the hot mess I see before me.
Squinting, I focus on a passing car. “You doing okay?” I grimace at my warbled voice before turning back to her.
Her tired eyes meet mine as she swallows noisily. “Like you care.”
“I may not like you, but I don’t wish harm on you. You’ve been blaming me for your life going to shit for years but I think it’s time you take a look in the mirror. Kelsie chose to live with her dad for a reason. And that reason sure as hell wasn’t me, no matter what you say. Blaming an innocent child born from an undesirable circumstance for your fuck-ups is just shitty. Stealing anything good from your own flesh and blood is even worse. Take some responsibility already.”
Her attention flits past my shoulder as I hear a few engines pull up but I don’t need see to know who it is. My real family just arrived. The one I chose.
“Did they teach you to talk like that?”
My body relaxes the moment I see the boys dismount their bikes. I called one yet they all came running—for me. Warmth that has nothing to do with the blazing sun settles deep in my bones. It glides through my body, spreading calm as it goes, quieting the constant nag in the back of my head wondering if I’m enough, if I deserve them. It’s amazing what love and care can do to a person, to an open wound left abandoned and exposed. Their consideration helped soothe the pain caused by others even when they didn’t have to. Even when they shouldn’t have. When they had every reason to walk away, they refused to give up and I’m forever grateful. When you’re told you’re not loveable enough, you start to believe it. They’ve shown me what it feels like to be loved. That’s not what my mother provided me. That wasn’t love. Love isn’t used as a weapon. It’s a gift one should offer freely and receive with humility.
After years of living with the reason for them, my carefully constructed walls came crumbling down for the boys just next door. Go figure.
“They taught me a lot actually. Mostly about family and what it means to love, not just yourself but others.” I bend down to her level. “They taught me what it’s like to be loved, too, something I’ve never felt before. Not from friends, not from a father or sister, not even from my own mom.” She, of all people, should understand what that feels like.
Her eyes fill with unshed tears as she looks away. I straighten then turn to the guys, catching Coty’s hand as he reaches for me. Three sets of tight eyes greet me but I usher them toward something they’re more equipped to take on.
Beckett and Marc slowly walk to the front of the car while Coty pulls me against his chest, speaking low in my ear.
“What the hell is she doing here?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t like it.”
I peek over his shoulder to see her wiping roughly at her eyes, knocking over her drink in the process.
“I don’t either.”
A loud curse steals our attention.
“Fucking idiot. What is this, amateur hour?”
Beckett smacks the hood. “Fuck off, bro. I didn’t bring a rag.”
We rush over, finding an angry burn on Beckett’s hand. He’s already rubbing furiously at the wound, clearly making it worse.
“Stop that.” I yank his uninjured hand away, saying, “I’ll get the first aid kit.”
Coty joins me in the kiosk, grabbing a towel and a cup of water. Returning to the car, Coty and Marc confer by the hood while I treat Beckett’s burn. His pinched eyebrows soften as I smooth on some of the ointment from the small kit.
“Why are you helping her?” he asks softly.
I attach a large bandage, keeping my eyes trained on my movements. “Faye won’t be happy finding that piece of shit blocking her business tomorrow morning. How’s your hand?”
He flexes his fingers, testing his mobility with the binding.
“Good, thanks. I still can’t believe I did that shit.”
“We all make mistakes. Treat it as a lesson learned and move on.” I’m suddenly reminded of Coty telling me something very similar but about burning your hand in the kitchen.
“This was a lesson I’ve been taught many, many times though. It was just stupid.”
I nod, wiping the excess goop on a towel. “Maybe, but being mad at yourself isn’t going to do any good. And being angry at the car won’t help matters either,” I add, seeing his glare. “Don’t let anger get the better of you. You’re smarter than that. That thing,” I gesture to his hand, “will only get infected if you don’t treat it with care, then your mistake will continue to grow and won’t heal correctly.”
“Why are you so good to us, Angie?”
“Because you’re good to me.”
“We’re only doing this for you. Not for her.” He leans down to kiss my forehead so I lift my eyes to his, silently thanking him.
I mull over my words to Beckett while I drift toward Rianne. By staying angry at my mom—the constant analyzing, the refusing to forgive—it’s kept the hurt at the forefront of my mind, preventing me from moving forward. Being mad at myself hasn’t helped either. By continuously picking at the open wound she’s caused, I’ve been prolonging the healing process all along. Just like Beckett’s burn, I need to treat the injury with care if I want it to improve, for me to be free of the pain I’ve been living with for so long. Deciding to do the opposite of what my anger is trying to trick me into, I forgive the woman who’s caused the damage I’ve grown to resent. As Beckett said, not for her, but for me.
“Your car’s almost done. You should be able to get it someplace to have it looked at. My guys are really good with cars if you want to take it to them.”
She scoffs, meeting my eyes. “Your guys?”
My face softens. “Yeah.” I drop my gaze, nudging a pebble with my shoe. “You’ve had a rough time, I know that. Some at your own hands, but everybody deserves love and you’ve been through hell searching for it. Kelsie loves you and-” I swallow down the pride trying to elbow past. “It probably doesn’t mean much but I love you, too. You didn’t have to have me, or keep me, but you did. You gave me a chance at life that I don’t take for granted even if I’ve said otherwise in the heat of the moment. I wouldn’t have found the happy waiting for me,” my eyes touch on Coty briefly, “and for that, I’ll always be grateful to you.”
Each kind word spoken is a stitch in the gaping hole left behind by a negligent parent until the steady throb fades to a calm sting.
“But my love can only be from afar. We’ve been through too much to pretend everything’s fine—it’s not. I refuse to enable you or be your punching bag. I’m not sure what made you show up here today, but I’m glad you did. I want to apologize to you. I’m sorry I can’t be what you want,” my voice cracking, I continue, “but this is me and I’m okay with that. I wish you a happy, or at least content, life. It’ll just have to be without me in it from now on.”
The scar left behind will forever serve as a reminder of a hard lesson learned but I can move on knowing I kept my composure when I could’ve easily buckled from the pressure. I’ll remember how much strength it took to show kindness in a time when everything in me screamed not to. I’ll reflect back on how the grace I showed not only to her, but to myself, resulted in a healthier me overall. I’m ready for bigger and better things sans impossibly heavy baggage.
The hood slams closed and the guys round her car. My gaze follows them as they walk to their bikes, giving us a little longer. When I look back, she’s watching me through watery eyes.
“Good for you. Telling off the big, bad monster, right? That’s it? You apologize once and I’m supposed to just accept it?”
She stands, coming closer and once she’s within arm’s reach, I wrap her in a hug.
“The choice is yours. Do whatever you want, but this is my goodbye.” I release her and any remaining animosity.
Halfway to Coty, I hear her say, “Do you really think they’re going to stick around?”
Without taking my eyes off Coty, I smile. “Maybe.” I look over at Rianne for what might be the final time. “I’m willing to take that chance though.”
They’re worth it. And so am I.
* * *
Watching her leave fills me with sadness where only anger used to reside full time. Beckett and Marc wait until she’s gone then follow soon after, calling out their typical “ride it” mantra.
Alone, Coty pulls out my helmet with a wicked gleam in his eye.
“I have my Jeep.”
“I’ll bring you back to get it tomorrow. Ride home with me tonight?”
Leaning in, I kiss his closed mouth chastely, grabbing my helmet from him. “Okay, but you have to help me clean first.”
Together we make quick work cleaning the kiosk before locking up.
Already on his R6, Coty helps me up, too. As per usual, he pulls my thighs in closer, setting my entire front against his back, then I place my hands on the tank in front of his seat. As he starts the engine though, I bring my hands up to wrap around his middle. Coty hesitates, allowing me time to replace them to my preferred position before taking off but I squeeze, letting him know I’m ready. His head snaps to the side, his questioning eyes finding mine, so I nod reassuringly.
I trust you.
Without breaking eye contact, he leans in resting his helmet against mine while his hand squeezes my thigh—his grip as sure and steady as his hold on the part of my heart he now owns.
With a bright smile and a shake of his head, Coty pulls onto the street, leaving any previous doubt behind. Picking up speed, we race forward exactly how we’re supposed to—together and with no regrets.
