Where Love Finds You (The Unspoken Series) (2 page)

“You mean you never wonder about the past and think to yourself, ‘What if? What if I could go back in time?’”

“It will all work out. Everything will work out.”

“You say that even when everything is falling apart.”

“Perspective. It’s all perspective.” Gavin entered the hallway and disappeared around the corner. “Hey, you can borrow my glasses if you want.”

Another dawn. Another day to think about the next day. Gavin is right, I thought. I needed to calm down and live for once.

How could I be thinking like this before I even opened my eyes?

My sun rose later than most people. Owning my own business made life easy in that sense. I scheduled all of my jobs for late morning, early afternoon, because I’m pretty much as nocturnal as it gets and I like to sleep in a little. 

Gavin likes to say I live two lives. One, as the guy who paints houses. And two, the guy who sits in his room all night and writes depressing songs for no one to hear but himself.

I guess that’s true. Not that it’s intentional or anything. I write songs because it helps me process what I’m going through, and, well, there is one other person who hears them. 

Gavin’s a good friend, really. We met at a homecoming dance when our dates ditched us and even worked at a local coffee shop together after high school. We don’t have much in common, but that’s what’s great about our friendship. We really are brothers. I annoy him with my analytical thoughts about paper plates, and he annoys me with his joyful lightbulb that never goes out.

He is the balloon in my life and I’m the weight that keeps him from flying off into the clouds. And in other ways he is the same for me. Sometimes I thought I’d need to find a woman like Gavin since he’s the only friend I’ve maintained for this many years, but at the same time, I’ve always wanted someone like me, someone to understand me like Gavin never will.

After a quick shower and a bowl of Raisin Bran, I left for work. 

On the way, I passed that coffee shop again. The one I never go in. The one that took the place of the one Gavin and I used to work in.
Chances
. The new owner named it
Chances
. 

I looked at the clock in my truck. Some extra time. 

I pulled along the side of the road and checked out the interior of the shop. Eh, it’s a long shot, but why not? Turning the car off, I exhaled and opened the door. 

Why can’t I just be normal? 

The coffee shop looked nice. Better than what it looked like when I worked there. Course that owner cared about money and money only, so he did everything as cheap as possible. 

The sweet smell of coffee woke me up a little more as I walked inside. Loved the photography and art on the walls. Reminded me a lot of Gavin’s work, only not as  unique. Gavin fused reality with imagination. I stopped in front of a photograph of a brunette with long hair. Could only see the back of her, but I loved the way the sun hit her hair and shoulders, highlighting the beauty of a woman in such simplicity. 

The sound of clinging spoons and the smell of coffee led me to the register. 

“Can I help you?” A spunky tattooed girl said with a smile. 

“Yeah, let me see. Anything you recommend?”

“Everything.” Her smile widened. “You like iced or hot? Sweet or something a little different?”

“Hey, why not try something different today for once?”

“Alright, how about a surprise?”

“Sounds good. I could use a surprise right now.”

“Okay, give me a few minutes.”

I paid for my mystery drink and meandered about the shop again. Weird how many memories lived here. Felt like just yesterday. 

I sat down and looked at the name of the shop, written in cursive on the window. Saw the place turn into
Chances
just a year ago, but it never interested me. I wanted it to stay the same. The change reminded me of the end of a road, a road I should’ve traveled years ago. 

“Here you go, sir.” The young girl tapped the counter and smiled at the paper cup that hid my liquid secret. 

“Thank you.” I picked up the iced mixture and took a sip. “Wow. Different is good. So what is it?”

“It’s a Vietnamese blend. Really unique. Sour, sweet, salty all in one.”

“Yeah. Wow. Definitely different.”

Her laughed filled the vacant coffee shop. “Glad you like.”

A quick exchange of goodbyes and a few glances around the shop later, I walked back to my truck and thought maybe “the one” really didn’t exist. Maybe I should've proposed to Lydia and moved on with life. 

 A red truck pulled out from the parking spot in front of
Chances
. I pulled in behind it and jogged inside. 

“Everything alright this morning?” I said to Dee.

“Just dandy. How about you?”

“Good. Sorry I’m late. I need the checks to deposit, then I need to make a quick run to the bank and Target. I’ll be back after that.” 

She handed me the envelope of checks. “You know, it really is okay if you aren’t here all the time. I can handle it, the other guys can handle it. It’s okay to take a break sometimes.”

“What’s a break?”

“Really. Why not take the day off and go to a park or something? A museum? How will you ever meet someone if you stay in your coffee shop the rest of your life?”

“You know why I do this.”

“Ella, go somewhere. Get out and do something. Just today.”

“Maybe tomorrow. I’ll be back in a few.”

Dee worked there as much as I did, trying to save money for her own tattoo studio. I paid her well as my manager to help her out a little. I really love seeing people create their own businesses and do something they love.

She helped me out a lot, too. Went above and beyond. And even listened to my personal rants about life and love. I couldn’t have asked for more.

“I know, I know.” Tossing my purse on the counter, I smiled at Dee. “I really am starting to believe I’m crazy. I mean, I am pretty sure I’ve completely lost my mind at this point.”

“You are just now tapping into reality, huh?”

She laughed as I exhaled and made myself a coffee. 

The bells on the door interrupted my thoughts. I looked across the room and saw him. Just another not him. Another not him with a ring on his finger. 

After he ordered his coffee and sat down by the window I whispered so only Dee could hear me. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Are you serious?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, before you change your mind I will make this happen. But just so I know, what made you want to do this now?”

“I’m crazy, Dee. I’ve completely lost my mind. I’m going to be thirty soon. My one goal in life . . . well, the only one I really cared about . . . was to get married, have children, snuggle up to my love and watch a movie. I’m running out of life. What are the chances of meeting the one?”

“Well, according to you, the chances are slim, but worth the wait. Now you’re saying it’s not worth the wait?”

“He’s never going to come, Dee.” The bells rang again. A happy couple walked in the door. Hand-in-hand, holding my dreams. “He’s never going to come.”

“Alright.” She wiggled her fingers and brightened the room with her quirky smile. “You can call me Cupid. I am going to find you a husband.”

“Sounds . . . promising.”

This time I sat down at the piano and refused to play the way I felt. Instead, I played the way I wanted to feel and hoped it would become reality. Upbeat and fun, my hands moved across the piano as I pulled words out of my future and sang along as they came to me. Before I knew it, my song melted into Elton John’s
I Guess That’s Why They Call it the Blues.

The apartment door opened and closed. Footsteps complemented my song like quick taps on a snare drum. Gavin stood beside me, tapping his foot, singing along. “Laughing like children, living like lovers . . . .”

I stopped playing and stood up. Gavin walked into the living room and I followed. Black-and-white photographs, framed and matted, reminded me of life beyond the petty things I worried about. 

“Is that new?” I said to Gavin, pointing at the color photograph hanging above the couch. “You done with the trendy umbrella woman now?”

“Yeah, it’s new. Do you like it?”

I stood closer to the photograph and analyzed the grass. “It’s just a picture of grass, man. What am I missing?”

“Look closer, but don’t analyze too much. You know how it is with music. If you over-think the lyrics you get some strange meaning that never existed.”

“Yeah, I get that, but all I see is grass.”

“You’re right. It’s just grass.” Gavin smiled. “And the picture of summer.”

“Right.” The light gray couch welcomed me. I put my hands behind my head and tapped my foot to the Elton John song still humming in my brain. “I think you need to stick with painting pictures instead of snapping them with that camera.”

“You’re probably right, but I do like the color.” He sat down on the chair across from me. “The black-and-white in here started to overwhelm me, especially with your depressing music every day. Besides, my friend is really good and we decided to teach each other. She’s going to show me how to work the camera, and I’m going to show her how to use a paint brush to capture the same picture.”

“What’s going on with her? Sounds like you two spend a lot of time together. No romantic things happening as you hold her hand and show her how to paint those precious blades of grass?”

Gavin laughed and cracked his knuckles. Typical sign that he’s uncomfortable, but doesn’t want to show it. 

“So, what is it? You like her or what?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but we’re just friends.”

“Just friends? Does that mean you like her, but she isn’t interested?”

“You know my feelings on the subject. I’m not interested and she knows that. I don’t think she’s interested. Actually, if things don’t work out with you and Lydia I thought of hooking you two up on a blind date.”

“Nah, you know how I feel about those artsy types.”

“What are you talking about, man? You’re an artist. Musicians are artists too.”

“Exactly. I can’t deal with these types. Too emotional.”

He smiled and walked away. Classic Gavin. He likes to have the last word, and it’s always something sarcastic. One, two, three, cue the sarcasm.

Nothing.

“Whoa. No last words from Gavin today?”

“Too tired. I’m going to shower and watch a movie. You game?”

“Sure. I’ll play a depressing song for you while you shower.”

“You are a good friend. Always know how to keep joy in the house.”

“Hey, welcome back.”

Don’t know what it is, but every time Gavin wanted to watch
Braveheart
I knew something was up. He isn’t the type to talk about his feelings. I’m sure I do that enough for the both of us. Everything stays inside of him, like a deep well that occasionally shows its true colors when someone draws up some water. 

That climactic speech of Mel Gibson’s character. It always gets me too. Makes me want to go and do something. Something important. Which mainly turns into me writing another song for no one.

The credits rolled. Gavin closed his eyes. 

I sunk my bucket into the well and gave a tug. “What’s going on in the world of Gavin?”