How (Not) to Fall in Love (7 page)

All thoughts of my father fled. A temperamental Italian espresso machine that had probably cost Liz thousands of dollars? “Um…maybe I could just be the tea maker?”

Liz threw back her head and laughed a deep, throaty laugh that came right from her gut. “Oh honey. If you’re the only person working here, what do we tell our coffee customers? No. You’ll learn how to rule Bella. She’s difficult but not impossible.” She grinned. “Kinda like me.”

I took a deep breath and stared at the giraffe painted on my mug. My dad’s words floated to mind, unbidden.
“Try one new thing. Plant one new seed.”

“I have to warn you, I’m not mechanically inclined. I can barely make toast.” So much for selling myself.

Liz laughed again and set down her teacup. “Neither was I. When I decided I wanted my own coffee shop, my biggest worry was how the heck to make a cappuccino.”

“Really?”

Her glittering eyes held mine. “Really. I spent weeks visiting coffee shops all over town. I’d order something and sit down and lurk. I watched those baristas work their magic. And I realized something.”

“What?”

“That anyone could do it. Kids younger than you, folks old enough to retire. I watched people who turned out perfect drinks one after the other while barely looking at the machine and serious artists who never took their eyes off the gauges.” Liz reached behind her chair and pulled out a tin of butter cookies. She pried off the lid and held it out to me. “These are my weakness. Especially with tea. Take one.”

I dipped the cookie into my tea while she watched approvingly.

“It’s like dancing,” she said. “Once you know the steps, you bring your own style to it. And the most important thing I learned?”

I waited, paying more attention to her than my cookie. My dad was going to have to pay for my liposuction when he got home.

“Each cup got easier. Each time I messed up a latte, I was that much closer to making a perfect one. You only become an expert at something by failing millions of times along the way. I wanted to master Bella the beast, so I did.” She paused to chew her cookie. “What have you mastered?” she asked suddenly.

“Me?” The question startled me. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? There’s nothing you do well, maybe something you do every day so you don’t even think about it?”

I thought for a few moments. Did running count? “I do run. A lot.”

“There you go. And I bet you didn’t start out running five miles at a stretch, did you?”

No, I definitely hadn’t. I’d started by just running with Toby as a puppy, the two of us romping in the park, then trotting along the canal trail haphazardly. But somewhere along the way, it turned into something I was really good at. I made goals and met them every week, every month. I entered local 5k and 10k races that Dad never knew about, so he wasn’t waiting at the finish line expecting me to win. But I charted my progress and bettered my time each time I competed. Only I did it for me. Not for my school. Not for my dad. Just for me.

“Maybe I can do this,” I said, more to myself than to Liz.

“Of course you can. Especially with our secret weapon.” Her smile deepened.

“Secret weapon?”

“Lucas. He figured that baby out in five minutes. Every time she acts up or throws a tantrum, he’s the one who fixes her. We have a deal—free drinks as long as I can keep him on speed dial for emergency repairs.”

Magic Hands on speed dial? Oh God. How would I ever concentrate enough to learn to make an espresso?

As if on cue, the tiny TV screen glowed blue, then faded back to black and white, showing Lucas headed for the counter. The girls around the board game stopped chattering and watched him, elbowing each other and giggling.

“Hi, Lucas,” one of them sing-songed, her voice tinny through the small TV’s speaker.

He turned and shot them his sexy grin. “Hey,” he said. “Who’s winning?”

There was snorting and laughing and something that sounded like, “Whoever you want to.”

Liz pushed herself out of the deep chair, shaking her head. “That poor boy. Girls follow him like rats and the Pied Piper.”

At the curtain, she glanced back and shot me a devilish look. “Come out after you catch your breath. I know he tends to take it away.”

She left me staring openmouthed. Maybe I should just hide out until Lucas went back to Charlie’s store. Or maybe I should just sneak out the back door to the alley and make my escape. If Liz had other applicants for this job, did I even stand a chance?

God, I wanted this job. But I was terrified I’d screw it up, if I were lucky enough to get it.

The TV screen flickered blue again. A frazzled-looking mom had come in with a bouncing child begging for a brownie.

Lucas had disappeared from the screen. Whew. He must have gone back to Charlie’s store. I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.

“You can do it,” I whispered. “Even McDonald’s sells espresso now.”

“Hey, Darcy,” said a familiar, sexy voice.

I jumped, sloshing tea out of my cup and onto my shirt. My face flushed.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Lucas pushed the curtains aside and walked toward me, a steaming to-go cup in his hand. “Do you need a towel?” He glanced at my chest. My wet chest.

“No, no. It’s fine.” I grabbed a napkin and dabbed uselessly at my shirt. At least it was a small stain so I didn’t look like I was competing in a wet T-shirt contest, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to disappear.

He sank into Liz’s chair and grinned. “Were you talking to yourself?”

I leaned back in the chair. If I hoped to get a job where I’d be seeing this guy all the time, I’d better practice my coping skills. “No, I was talking to my friend about applying to work here.” I tilted my head toward a David Bowie poster on the far wall. “He comes with me everywhere. But most people can’t hear him.” I lowered my voice. “Can you?”

Lucas burst into laughter. “I’ve met the other job applicants,” he said. “They didn’t talk to imaginary friends.”

I returned his arch smile. “Then maybe I have an advantage.”

Lucas’s smile widened to a grin. “You might. Then again, it might depend on Bowie’s conversational skills. That’s an important part of the job.”

I looked at the floor. I might be able to joke around in Fairyland, but Lucas was right. Conversation was an important part of the job. And strangers made me sweat.

“Are you worried about that?” Lucas asked. “The talking to customers part?”

“Yeah.” I peeked at him from under my lashes, which weren’t half as long as his. “That and the monstrous Bella. I don’t think I can handle her.” I glanced at the TV screen, where Liz stood at the espresso machine, working like a maestro.

He grinned and stretched out his long legs. “You can handle Bella. Liz and I can teach you. It’s pretty cool to be able to make yourself any kind of coffee drink, instead of having to pay five bucks a pop.”

“But I’m a total klutz.”

He took a drink from his cup. “You should’ve seen Liz when she first got that machine. She was in here every day swearing at it. She’d get so mad, she’d tell Charlie she was going to close the store and give up. But we found some videos on YouTube that helped. And she called the guy who sold her the machine. She paid him to spend a day with her, making the same drinks over and over. Now she’s a pro.”

Ugh. She hadn’t made it sound so grueling. “What about you?” I asked him. “How long did it take you to tame Bella?”

He dipped his head. “Not as long as Liz.”

“Uh-huh. You figured it out right away, didn’t you?” I accused, narrowing my eyes.

He shrugged and took another long drink, but when he lowered his cup his lips twitched like he was biting back a smile.

“I’m not sure what to do.” I glanced at the TV screen again. Liz was talking and laughing with the reading couple. The girls had resumed their board game.

Lucas frowned. “If you do take the job, Liz isn’t going to let you fail. She’ll be here to help you and train you. And I’m usually around, too, if the machine explodes or something.” He brushed back his hair and grinned.

I stared into my mug. Liz’s shop was like nothing else in my life. Peaceful. Mellow. Fun. When I was here I forgot about all the other crap. Plus my uncle worked just a few doors down and I really wanted to get to know him better.

And Magic Hands would be on speed-dial.

“You’re probably right.” I took a deep breath and stood up. “Time for my trial run.”

Lucas stood up, too. “I need to go. I’ve got a lot of homework.”

“Where do you go to school?” I asked. He seemed older than the guys at Woodbridge.

“CU Denver. Engineering school.”

Holy hotness, a college boy. Sal would totally freak. “Oh,” I managed to say. “That’s cool.”

“It’s my first year there. Last year I went to a community college because it was cheaper, but this year I transferred to CU.” He shrugged. “It’s intense but I’m doing okay.”

I nodded wordlessly.

“Knock ’em dead, Darcy.” He shot me another killer smile. “I’ll see you around.” He flipped me a peace sign, then disappeared through the curtains.

I didn’t know what it was about him. Nobody had ever affected me with such intensity. If hotness was an app, Lucas would be a bestseller.

B
ella was a beast. A shiny, noisy, scary beast. She belched steam and spewed burning liquid. She terrified me.

“Baby steps,” Liz said. “Let’s start with an espresso.” She ground coffee beans and filled the filter cup, grinding and pushing with a metal tamper until the grounds were tightly packed.

“Here.” She handed me a long black handle attached to the silver filter cup. “Slide and lock it into place.”

I slid. I tried to lock it into place, but instead I dropped it, and fine grounds of espresso flew everywhere. “Crap. I’m sorry.” I bit my lip. Inhale calm. Exhale stress.

Liz grinned. “You should’ve seen the mess I made my first day battling Miss Bella. Let’s do it again.”

And so we did. Grind, tamp, slide, lock. Steam, release, magic! Hot steaming espresso filled the tiny china cup under the spout.

“You did it!” Liz high-fived me and laughed. “One down, a million to go.”

We spent a long time together behind the counter. I watched her like a hawk, trying to memorize all the steps needed to make a latte, an Americano, a cappuccino.

I served tea and pastries and worked the register. I met some of the regulars, whose faces lit up when they discovered I was Charlie’s niece. I tried to make up for my Bella incompetence by cleaning every cup and utensil the second it hit the sink. I bussed and cleaned tables before Liz even noticed they were dirty. I played
Candyland
with two little girls while their mom talked to Liz. I refilled the tea racks every fifteen minutes until Liz told me to take a chill pill.

I was the embodiment of Thoughtful! Responsible! Initiative! It was the best time I’d had in forever.

At ten o’clock, after everyone had packed up their knitting and laptops and said good night, Liz locked the door. She sank onto one of the couches and sighed. “Busy night.” She yawned.

I stacked up board games and put them on a shelf.

“Sit down, Darcy.”

I sat across from her and smiled tentatively, wondering how I’d compared to the other applicants. I looked around the shop, imagining working here regularly, daring to hope I would be.

“I know it’ll take me a little more time to learn Bella,” I said. Understatement of the century. “But I promise I’ll work very hard. I’ll do anything. Even clean the bathroom.” I’d learned how to wield a toilet bowl brush, since we no longer had a housekeeping service.

Liz looked at me intently, not smiling. Her voice was quiet when she spoke. “There have been three total applicants—a guy who cranked death metal and scared away my customers, a girl with a permanent sneer and an inability to make change to save her life, and you.”

Her face blossomed into one of her cosmic smiles. “No contest, Darcy. The job is yours. Can you start this week?”

“No way. I mean, yes! Of course!” I wanted to hug her but didn’t want to freak her out.

“Good. Call me tomorrow after school and we can figure out this week’s schedule.” She rose from the couch. “Thank God you were the best applicant.”

“Why?”

“Because it would’ve broken Charlie’s heart if I didn’t hire you. But this was a business decision.” She smiled down at me. “You showed an excellent work ethic and you treated my customers with kindness, even the kids. I’d be stupid not to hire you.”

“Thank you, Liz. I promise I won’t let you down.” I stood up and put out a hand to shake.

She ignored my outstretched hand and pulled me into a hug. “I know you won’t. Now let’s get out of here and tell your uncle the good news.”

Chapter Ten

October 3

T
he next day I barely focused on school. Mom had been passed out on the couch when I’d gotten home from the coffee shop the night before, killing my glow from Tin Lizzy’s. I wanted to talk to her about my new job. About ditching her at the photo shoot. About Dad’s latest postcard that had arrived yesterday. But how could I if she wasn’t awake in the mornings and was hardly ever sober at night?

She wasn’t home when I got home from school. After calling Liz to figure out my work schedule, I took Toby for a long run, listening on my phone to one of Dad’s classic spiels on how to survive tough times. “The human spirit is indomitable,” he said. “Just like gardens that lie dormant all winter and resurrect every spring. So do we, even when we’re sure we can’t.”

His latest postcard wasn’t so indomitable. The front of the plain black card said,
“This is a postcard from someone on the road.”
How lame. On the back he’d scrawled,
“I’m still looking. Not sure when I’ll find it. But I love you. –Dad.”

What was I supposed to do with that?

My stomach rumbled as Toby and I neared home. I hadn’t eaten lunch at school because I’d forgotten my sandwich, and I didn’t want to spend any cash. I thought of Mom spending her day with the evil Pam, and guilt washed over me as I remembered how I’d ditched the photo shoot and destroyed our henge.

Instead of microwaving junk tonight, I’d make her dinner, to apologize for everything.

But I had no idea what to cook. I’d never made anything besides cereal, Pop Tarts, and sandwiches. Maybe I could find something easy from one of her cookbooks.

I flopped onto the couch with a stack of cookbooks. Toby jumped up next to me, nosing the books. How did that crazy dog know I was reading about food?

French Cuisine for Special Occasions. Indonesian Delicacies for the Adventurous Cook.
Whatever happened to
Cooking for Dummies
? I pulled out my phone and searched “cooking for idiots.” Aha. Cookingfortheclueless.com.

Step one: what ingredients are on hand?

Hmm. I moved Toby from my lap, went to the pantry, and stared at the nearly empty shelves. Noodles. A jar of salsa. A can of tuna. A half-empty box of generic cereal. Two bottles of unopened dill pickles. A can of evaporated milk.

“Not even Mom could turn this junk into a meal,” I told Toby.

I looked at the website again. “Tasty meals on a tight budget.” That was more like it. I clicked the link and scrolled through the choices. Tuna noodle casserole. Hmm. I pictured the pantry shelves. We had noodles. And tuna. What else did I need? Frozen peas, cream of mushroom soup. Sour cream. I had twenty bucks in my wallet.

W
hen Mom got home three hours later, she almost fainted when she saw the casserole dish on the counter.

“Darcy? Is this… Did you cook dinner?”

I grinned. “Yes ma’am. It ain’t fancy, but it’s not too bad.”

She gaped at me, then regained her composure. “Don’t say— ”

“Ain’t. I know.” I grabbed a plate from the cupboard and spooned a heap of tuna and noodles on it, then zapped it in the microwave.

“So.” I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to give her the same assessing look she’d given me every day after school. “How’s life? Aside from your photographer bailing on you?”

She laughed, then dropped her keys on the counter and walked over to give me a hug.

“My day sucked. But it just got a lot better.” She held me tight.

“Mom, please. Only vulgar girls say ‘sucked.’”

She stepped back from me and shook her head. “You never cease to amaze me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Mom. It’s just tuna casserole, not the Nobel Prize.” I opened the freezer and grabbed the pint of Ben & Jerry’s I’d splurged on.

“How was your day?” she asked. “The truth, please.”

I shrugged. “Like yours. It sucked.” I pulled the lid off the ice cream and grinned at her. “But it’s better now.”

We sat together on the couch watching some show about hot aliens with supernatural powers. One of them kind of reminded me of Lucas.

“So,” I said. “I have news. I have a job.”

She almost choked on her food. “You’re kidding. Where?”

I told her about Charlie and Liz, about how I’d made a mess with Bella but somehow gotten the job anyway. I didn’t mention Lucas. I was keeping him all to myself.

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

Her pride made it that much harder to tell her the next thing. I swallowed over the lump that rose in my throat.

“After I left Pam’s, I went to the cabin. And I…” I blinked my eyes against the tears. “I knocked down Dad’s Stonehenge.”

Mom didn’t say anything for a long time, then she heaved a long sigh. “So you saw the ‘for sale’ sign?”

I nodded, still fighting back tears, and full of remorse.

“I was going to tell you. Eventually. But I knew you’d be upset.” She gave me a sad smile. “Guess I was right about that.”

“Honestly I’m not sure why I did it. I think it was everything. Hearing Pam—” I stopped. I wasn’t going to tell Mom about Pam’s insults. “Just being around her,” I said. Inhale. Exhale. “Just everything,” I whispered.

Mom nodded and slowly chewed another bite of casserole.

“I’ll go back and fix it.”

She swallowed her food and shook her head. “Don’t bother. I’m sure whoever buys it will get rid of the stones.”

My throat burned and tears spilled down my cheeks as the reality of our losses overwhelmed me again. It wasn’t just the stuff, like my car or the cabin. That sucked, but what I missed more than anything was my dad. I missed his strength, his booming laugh, his constant insistence that I could do more, be more. I even missed his platitudes and clichés.

Mom set aside her plate and reached over to hug me. “It’s not always going to be this hard, honey.”

I wanted to believe her. More than anything, I wanted to believe her.

But I didn’t.