CHAPTER 2
REESE
As I hand over their cup of coffee, I smile at my customer. I work fast, but I make sure everything is made just how they want and like it. It’s one of the reasons we have so many repeat customers. I take pride in making sure everyone who walks through the doors is taken care of.
My work ethic is what helped me go from a barista when I started to the manager. I’m damn proud of that too.
Is it where I saw myself when I was growing up? No, but I always had a problem looking into the future and being able to say ‘that, that’s what I want’. It’s one of my many flaws, no matter who the person is I project to the world.
I’ve known so many people in my life who have dismissed me because they thought I was too bubbly, unrealistic, naïve, and even flighty. I’m not. Well, except maybe bubbly.
I would rather find the good in life, the positives, fuck, the rainbows even. I’ve had enough dark clouds I’ve had to find the silver lining in, and it simply became my outlook. It had to be.
The alternative was to let the darkness consume me and I wasn’t willing to let it happen. Mind over matter.
Or something.
I smile when I look over to where Ruth and Micah are sitting while Ruth is on her break. They’re so cute together. So right.
You can see how they complement each other easily. I’m so happy for her. She deserves the love she’s found and the family whose embrace now surrounds her.
It’s nice how they include me in the family, even if I don’t have the same connection Ruth or Anna, my best friend and former coworker, has. I think about the day Booker, the guitarist for Suburban Outcasts, came in here for the first time looking for Anna. If there was ever a moment you expected Cupid to walk through the door and take credit for his work, that would have been the day.
I almost laugh remembering how Anna thought she could keep it casual or even resist the pull between them. It was impossible and it wasn’t long until she was swept up in the hearts and flowers of it all.
I’m happy for her too. She now has the cutest newborn.
The thing I don’t say or let myself feel is how much I miss her. She has a new life, one she deserves. We’re still great friends, but it’s just not the same.
I’m lonely. It’s a feeling I’ve been covering up for a long time, one I’ve ignored and pushed to the back of my mind. I might be a part of Anna’s huge ass group of friends who treat each other like family, but I don’t have any blood family left.
The loneliness of it, the chasm that lost connection created, is as fresh as it was 15 years ago when my parents died. The hole in my world widened again seven years ago when the grandparents who took me in died. With them, everything which connected me to a history I could touch was severed.
I put on a brave face, again, and decided accepting it was the only way forward. I certainly wasn’t going to change it. Death is life and all that jazz.
For a long time, I became a serial dater. I wanted a connection, I wanted to feel a sense of belonging. Sometimes I would even find it, though it was always fleeting. I hated the feeling of it getting ripped away from me again.
It’s why I haven’t been on a date in six months. Anna would be super worried if she knew, but, thankfully, she’s been getting ready for the arrival of her little one and enjoying everything about being married to a rock star. I’m always happy to find out about how she’s doing rather than share anything about my dating life.
I got Boomer to help fill the void. He’s amazing. I remember the day I went and saw him at the rescue. His brown soulful eyes looked up at me, begging me for a new life, for more. He looked at me in a way the little place in my heart which I locked away behind sunshine understood. He was lonely too.
I knew I was the right person to give Boomer a home. Now he greets me at the door, always happy to see me, and I think I’ve found the connection I’m looking for.
“Reese?” My eyes snap up from the counter I’ve been idly wiping down up to the eyes of one of my regular customers and the maker of the only dog treats I give Boomer, Hadley. Her eyebrows come together in concern. “Are you okay?”
I wave my hand dismissively and put a big smile on my face, which is easy to do because life really is so much better than it could be. I’m grateful as hell for it. Always.
My voice is breezy, “Of course.” I wiggle my eyebrows and tempt her, “Can I get you your regular?”
Hadley sighs and looks behind her, making sure no one else is in line before she leans onto the counter, her chin in her hand and her eyes intently focused on me. “You’re so good to me,” she teases.
I bark out a laugh and turn to make her drink. She’s a mocha girl through and through. I throw the question over my shoulder, “Did you bring treats for Boomer today? We’re almost out. I was going to call you after work.”
“Of course, I did,” she scoffs. Every time I see her, she has a bag of treats for me to take home, so the scoff is justified.
When I plop her drink down, I take her words and give them back to her, “You’re so good to me.”
Hadley bats her eyes at me and props her hip against the counter. I’m not sure how I feel about the way she’s looking at me, as if she sees far more than I want her to. It makes me want to squirm, but I hold firm, a smile on my face and thankfulness the life I have isn’t worse in my heart.