The local coffee shop, the Bread & Bean, was nestled between the post office and a florist, and was clearly quite popular. As I walked through the chiming front door I noted that most of the tables were full and a modest line sprouted from the cashier. I could smell why immediately; the fresh ground coffee mingled with the sweetness of baking pastries and suddenly I was ravenous.
When it was my turn at the register I boldly placed an order for here; usually I was the king of to go, but I found that I wanted to stay cocooned in the pleasant aromas a little longer. Besides, it wasn’t as if I had anywhere else to be. I paid an exceptionally modest sum for my breakfast, less than half what I was used to, then snagged a table to wait. Someone had left the local paper behind, and a headline towards the bottom of the front page grabbed my eye immediately.
LOCAL SHOP BROKEN INTO, PROPRIETOR ATTACKED
Police were called to the Fairweather Antique Shop at 10:45PM responding to a report of a break in. Owner Robert Fairweather was on the scene when police arrived with his son, Allen Fairweather, who sustained a minor head injury in the attack.
The front door was smashed in and the assailant knocked Allen Fairweather unconscious before proceeding to rob the store of an undisclosed amount. At the time of publication the family has not responded to request for comment.
This is the second commercial break in Wild Haven has experienced this month, the previous being at the Wild Haven Historical Society-- [Cont.]
“Cappuccino for Harper?”
I snapped my eyes up from the paper and made my way to the freckle-faced barista who was looking for me. He handed me over a steaming mug, smiling a little bashfully when our fingers brushed in the exchange.
“Milk and sugar is just over there,” he mumbled, pointing my way.
“Thanks,” I said, throwing him a wink that made him bite his lip and turn away. Clearly not all the cute boys in Wild Haven would be off limits to me.
I grabbed some sugar packets, and returned to the register when a moment later they called my name for my cinnamon roll. My hands full of good decisions I returned to my table only to discover that it was no longer vacant. Reid Decker had occupied one of the chairs, and was staring at me with a cheshire grin. I froze.
“You stole my table,” I said petulantly. He waved at the open seat across from him.
“I saw that you had room to share, and I didn’t think you’d mind. We’re a friendly community that way.”
“Not sure at what point I gave you the impression that I’m friendly, but I am hungry so whatever. Don’t think for a minute I’m going to share this.” I sat down-- all the other tables really were full now, so I didn’t have many other options. I ripped open the sugar packets and dumped them in my cappuccino, giving them a minute to melt before I took my first sip.
“Not much of a morning person, I take it?” Reid said, his hazel eyes dancing.
“Nope.” I picked up my silverware and cut a hunk off of the cinnamon roll. The icing oozed around my fork, still warm and gooey. The first bite had me closing my eyes in pleasure, almost enough to forget that I had an unwanted dining companion.
“It’s good, right?” Reid asked, and I could hear his grin even as I refused to look up.
“It’s fucking delicious,” I corrected around another mouthful.
“I come here most mornings,” he said, answering a question I hadn’t asked. “I’m such a sucker for the smoothies.”
I stuffed another huge hunk of roll into my mouth defiantly, waiting for him to extol the virtues of health food, but he didn’t. We lapsed into a moment of silence before the freckled barista called out an order for Reid.
“That’s my cue,” he said, getting up from our table-- my table. He started to walk away then turned back.
“Hey,” he said, suddenly looking a little less sure of himself than usual. “I’m going hiking today, just a short run on Deerbrush Trail. Any interest?”
“No,” I said quickly, then cringed. It wasn’t his fault I wasn’t at my friendliest before noon. I scrambled for a cover. “I mean, I’m kind of on call for Rose if she needs anything to take care of Allen. After last night.” I pantomimed a knock on my head, as if he didn’t know exactly what I was talking about. So stupid.
He shrugged, and his smile was a little rueful but still there. “Another time, maybe. I’ll see you around, Harper,” he said.
I watched him as he retrieved a green smoothie from the drink counter, then exited out the front door. Whether I liked it or not, running into the Decker family in Wild Haven seemed to be an inevitability.
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