Page 10 of The One that Got Away

The first rays of dawn had barely grazed the horizon when Lisa's eyes fluttered open. She lay still for a moment, the soft breathing of her children in adjacent rooms a comforting lullaby. But with each breath, her resolve strengthened—today, she would be the beacon of stability and warmth her family needed.

With gentle movements, Lisa slipped from beneath the covers, her feet landing softly on the cool wooden floor. She tiptoed to the kitchen, where the ritual of breakfast preparation awaited her. The clink of porcelain plates being set on the table, the sizzle of eggs in the skillet, and the aroma of toasted bread filled the space with an inviting atmosphere that spoke of normalcy and love.

"Morning, Mom," Ethan mumbled as he shuffled into the kitchen, his green eyes still heavy with sleep.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Lisa greeted him with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, her mind replaying Oliver's words from the day before—he would spend the day with Ava and young Daniel. It was important; she knew that, but it still left a hollow feeling in her chest.

"Is that bacon I smell?" Abigail chimed in, her curly hair bouncing as she skipped toward the scent.

"Of course," Lisa replied, channeling all her affection into her voice. "And I've made your favorite pancakes, too."

As they gathered at the table, Lisa's gaze lingered on baby Julia, peacefully sitting in the high chair, tapping a plastic spoon rhythmically against the table. This was her family, her world, and she'd protect their joy at all costs. The children laughed and chatted about the day ahead, and for a fleeting moment, the specter of Ava's return receded into the shadows.

The school run was always a bustling affair, with children streaming into the building with backpacks bouncing and parents exchanging hurried goodbyes. As Lisa maneuvered through the throng with Julia snuggled against her chest, subtle murmurs from other moms began to weave their way into her consciousness.

"Did you hear that Ava is back?"

"Yes, poor Lisa. We all remember how heartbroken Oliver was when Ava left. It can’t be easy…."

Lisa's steps faltered for a heartbeat, the whispers clawing at her composure. She could feel the prying eyes, the unspoken pity, and the thirst for gossip. But no, she wouldn't let them see her waver. For Ethan and Abigail, who waved goodbye with innocent smiles, she had to be a fortress.

"Come on, Jules," she whispered to the baby, who gurgled obliviously, "let's get away from all this noise."

Head held high, Lisa strode from the school grounds, the murmurings fading behind her like an unsettling breeze. She felt the thrill of the challenge ahead, paired with the suspense of unknown outcomes. Yet, in her heart, there was a steady beat of determination; she would face whatever came with grace and resolve. After all, she was Lisa Montgomery, and she was made of sterner stuff.

The bell above the cafe door chimed a familiar, comforting note as Lisa pushed it open. A whiff of freshly ground coffee beans and the buzz of early customers waiting outside greeted her, wrapping around her senses like a welcome embrace. Yet beneath the layers of warmth and roasted aromas, the tendrils of stress crept in, coiling around her resolve.

"Steady, Lisa," she murmured to herself, rolling back her shoulders as she stepped behind the counter after putting Julia down for her nap. The scent of pine from the adjoining woodwork shop mingled with the coffee, grounding her. Her hands were steady as they flipped the sign to “Open.”

Today, like every day, she would keep the heart of her business beating strong.

Orders flowed in like a relentless stream, and Lisa became a conductor orchestrating an intricate symphony of tasks. She shuttled between the espresso machine's hiss and the cash register's chime, all while keeping a watchful eye on the woodworking shop through the internal window that bridged the two worlds she had created.

"Morning, Lisa!" called out a regular, his voice cutting through the hum of activity. "I'll have the usual, and oh—is that new cedar piece ready?"

"Give me just a sec, Frank," she replied, her voice the epitome of small-town warmth yet edged with the sharpness of someone who knew how to get things done. She swiftly keyed in his order before slipping through to the back, where the scent of sawdust was thick, and promises were carved into reality.

Her fingers traced over the smooth surface of Frank's custom-ordered cedar shelf, ensuring perfection. Oliver had finished it late the night before so he could take off and be with his son. It was beautiful. Oliver really was the best at what he did.

Returning to the café, she placed the wrapped shelf on the counter with a triumphant smile. She exchanged pleasantries but never allowed the conversation to distract her from the next customer waiting patiently in line.

"Lisa, we're running low on the Guatemala blend," Marianne, her young half-time employee, called out, a hint of urgency threading her voice.

"Got it covered," Lisa assured, her response swift as she pivoted to the storeroom. Inventory lists danced in her head, a mental checklist that she ticked off with each step. The shelves were lined with neatly labeled bins, and she quickly located the needed coffee, restocking with efficient grace.

As the sun arced higher, casting beams of light through the café's front windows, Lisa's pace remained unyielding. She poured lattes with precision, frothing milk into creamy peaks while her mind orchestrated the inventory dance behind the scenes. The sweet aroma of pastries mixed with the tang of varnish was an olfactory reminder of the dual nature of her work.

The thrill of the challenge kept her alert, and the suspense of what lay beyond each brewed pot or sanded edge kept her engaged. There was no room for doubt—no space for the whispers that tried to seep in from the outside world.

"Keep pushing forward," she whispered to herself, a mantra that carried her through the day. Deep down, she knew that the foundation she laid with every cup served and every board smoothed was not just for the business but for the family she cherished beyond measure.

The bell above the cafe door chimed its familiar tone, signaling another customer had stepped into the warm embrace of Lisa's crafted world. Amidst the hum of conversation and the clinking of cups, she caught Marianne's eye from across the counter. The young waitress was wrestling with the espresso machine, her forehead creased in concentration. With a reassuring smile, Lisa made her way over, her hands expertly adjusting the dials as she guided Marianne’s efforts.

"Remember, it's all about finding the right pressure," Lisa said, her voice an anchor amid the frothing steam.

Marianne nodded, her smile blooming as the coffee poured in a perfect, honey-colored stream.

"Thanks, Lisa."

---