Page 1 of The One that Got Away

Chapter One

LISA

Lisa Montgomery wove through the tables of the Seabreeze Café with practiced agility, her hands expertly balancing a tray of freshly baked muffins. Sunlight spilled across the rustic wooden floors, bathing the room in a golden hue that promised a new day full of possibilities. The scent of roasted coffee beans mingled with the sweet aroma of pastries, setting a comforting stage for the early risers who would soon filter through the door, seeking their morning solace.

As she aligned the chairs with a gentle nudge of her hip, Lisa glanced toward the adjoining woodwork shop, where handcrafted furniture and trinkets awaited the admiration of patrons. She tucked a loose strand of wavy brown hair behind her ear and exhaled a focused breath, willing her mind to stay on the tasks at hand despite the undercurrent of uncertainty that seemed to tug at her heart.

Every morning, Lisa's day began as a delicate dance with the dawn, the rhythm led by the gentle cadence of the ocean just beyond her café's weathered door. She moved with practiced ease through the familiar motions, the scent of freshly ground coffee beans mingling with the salty tang of sea air. The café, an intimate haven crafted from her resilience and dreams, hummed quietly with the anticipation of the morning rush.

Outside, waves whispered secrets to the Alaskan shoreline, their hushed crashes a soothing soundtrack to Lisa's meticulous preparations. She filled the display case with an array of homemade pastries, each a testament to her dedication—the flaky crusts and sumptuous fillings arranged like jewels under the soft glow of the overhead lights. The aroma of cinnamon and vanilla swirled around her, a comforting embrace.

"Mom, are the pancakes ready?" Abigail's sleepy voice cut through the stillness of the pre-dawn calm, pulling Lisa back to the warmth of the kitchen. Lisa loved Saturdays when the kids had no school, and everything moved at a slower pace.

Lisa turned to find Ethan and Abigail shuffling into the room, their eyes half-lidded with remnants of sleep. Oliver and Lisa had recently moved their entire family into the apartment above the café, and now they were living there, all five of them, to better keep up with all the work. This way, the café was not just a workplace but their home. It was a big sacrifice since they all loved the house they lived in, especially the creek behind it and the view of the mountains. But it simply didn’t function for them, and it was too expensive with two rent payments, so this way, they saved some money. It was just more practical.

Ethan's protective hand rested gently on his younger sister's shoulder, guiding her forward as if steering a ship through foggy waters.

"Almost there, my darlings," Lisa said, her voice a soft melody as she whisked the batter in the bowl with one hand while reaching to ruffle Ethan's short hair with the other. A smile graced her lips, reflecting the same warmth that danced in Abigail's wide, expectant eyes.

The sizzle of batter hitting the hot skillet filled the air, and Ethan perched himself on a stool at the counter, his green eyes following Lisa's every move with an attentiveness that belied his years. Abigail clambered up beside him, her curls bouncing with each movement, her laughter a tinkling bell that resonated in the cozy confines of the kitchen.

"Race you to see who finishes first!" Ethan challenged, his grogginess giving way to the spark of competition.

"Okay!" Abigail agreed eagerly, her giggles turning into peals of laughter as Lisa slid a golden-brown pancake onto each of their plates.

The homey scene was a delicate dance of love and routine, a daily performance that stitched together the fabric of their lives. As Lisa poured the syrup and watched her children dive into their breakfast, the thrill of the day ahead pulsed through her veins. It was a feeling tinged with suspense, for the unknowns that lay beyond the safety of these walls kept her ever vigilant, ever hopeful, and always prepared for what life might serve up next.

Ethan's fork clattered against the plate, his cheeks puffed out with the last bite of pancake as he declared victory. Abigail pouted playfully before breaking into a grin, her defeat easily forgotten in the joy of the moment. Lisa watched them, an affectionate smile playing on her lips. The sun spilled across the kitchen table, casting a halo over the children's heads, and for a fleeting moment, the world was perfect.

"Mom, look! I won!" Ethan exclaimed, his voice bubbling with pride.

"Abby's just letting you win," she teased him gently. Her eyes softened at the edges as they met the pair of sparkling orbs that mirrored her own resilience. Her heart swelled, filled to the brim with love for these two little souls who had weathered storms alongside her and still found reasons to laugh.

The creak of a floorboard pulled her gaze away from the children, and there stood Oliver, leaning against the doorframe with a weariness that seemed to hang on his shoulders like a heavy cloak. His dark hair was a disheveled testament to a night spent walking the halls with their young daughter.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice rough with fatigue.

"Hey," Lisa replied, the concern etched on her face softening as he crossed the kitchen to where she stood. His arms enveloped her in a hug that felt like the safe harbor he so missed from his days at sea but had given up to help build the café and woodshop and to be there more for the family. He pressed his lips to her cheek, and it was a tender kiss that spoke volumes—of gratitude, shared struggles, and a bond that not even the relentless tides of life could break.

"Did Julia finally settle?" Lisa asked, her hands resting on his forearms, feeling the muscle beneath the worn flannel.

"Like a ship after a storm," Oliver said, a small smile finding its way through his exhaustion. "But every hour, she was up, wanting to see the stars or just to remind us she's captain now."

"Sounds about right." Lisa chuckled, her laughter mingling with the warmth of the morning light. She found solace in the rhythm of their life together—a symphony of sawdust, syrup, and the soft coos of a baby that wove through the essence of their home.

The corners of Lisa's eyes crinkled as she caught Oliver's gaze, a silent conversation passing between them. His hand found the small of her back—a touch that was both an anchor and a promise. They stood amidst the hum of the kitchen appliances and the soft patter of their children's feet, each glance acknowledging the delicate dance of their lives—balancing ledgers with laughter and coffee orders with cuddles.

Their connection was a quiet force, a shared resilience against the tide of worry that often threatened to breach the walls they had carefully built around their family. The café, with its aroma of roasted beans and the comforting scent of wood shavings from the adjacent workshop, was more than just a business; it was a testament to their collective dreams and relentless determination.

But even within this cocoon of warmth they had spun together, reality loomed large in their periphery—a stack of bills, a whimpering child at night, and the ceaseless churn of responsibility that never quite ebbed.

It was in that moment of mutual understanding, a breath held in tandem, that the outside world beckoned once more. The front door chime sliced through their reverie, a sharp reminder that the day was in full swing.

Lisa turned toward the sound, her heart skipping a beat as if on cue, every sense heightened. The wooden floorboards creaked under the weight of new footsteps, a harbinger of the day's first patron seeking refuge in the sanctuary of her café.

"Good morning," she called out, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest. The customer, a regular whose name hovered on the tip of her tongue, offered a nod and a smile that didn't quite reach his tired eyes. He was a silhouette framed by the doorway, the golden sunlight casting his shadow long across the room.

"The usual?" Lisa asked, already reaching for the heavy ceramic mug that felt familiar in her grasp. Her mind, however, remained alight with the unspoken words exchanged with Oliver, the thrill of uncertainty that lay hidden beneath each new day’s surface.

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