Page 21 of Forgiving Her First Love

“Nothing.” He looked at the coffeemaker, an old drip thing full of limescale. “This should have been replaced ten years ago. Are these barnacles?”

“That’s what gives the coffee its unique, chewy texture. I don’t actually drink anything that comes out of it. I’ve been wondering why you do.”

“Death wish, obviously.” Storm, was the real answer. Between his nights with her and various worries over her future, this business, and his own, he had lost a lot of sleep in the last two months. “Art always had a pot going. I thought that’s what we still did.”

“Yeah, he’s not allowed to drink that much coffee anymore. Thank you, by the way, for asking him to work at the store. Even if he decides not to do it, it’s nice for him to feel needed. Losing your dad hit him really hard.”

A cold, hollow sensation scraped behind Logan’s sternum. He pivoted away from it and poured the first cup of what was truly rancid coffee.

“Is his health okay?” He was thinking of her diligence in making sure Art took his many pills.

“If he went to the doctor, I could answer that,” she said with exasperation. “He’s eighty-four. Every time he goes, they tell him something else needs watching. Blood pressure, thyroid, cholesterol, blood sugar….” She shrugged. “He gets bummed about his limitations. Hopefully, being in the store gives him a sense of purpose. I kind of wish I’d thought of it, to be honest.” She circled her desk and tapped to wake up her computer, then pulled the folder closer. “Did you see the fuel surcharge on this one?” She waved an invoice at him. “High seas piracy.”

They were done with personal talk, Logan surmised.

“Lemme see.” He took it and sipped his coffee, then spit it back into his cup. “I can’t do it. I’m going to the coffee shop for a red eye. You want one?”

“No, thanks.”

By the time he got back, she’d been called down to a charter yacht with an oil leak.

*

It was a typical Monday where everything went sideways and time disappeared before Sophie knew where it had gone. She briefly saw Gramps in the store, when she stopped in for a part. Otherwise, she’d been run off her feet all day with repairs, big and small.

By the time she climbed the stairs to the marina office again, planning to sit down at her desk and finish those invoices, Biyen was there, talking to Logan. He was at the desk working through the invoices himself. Or trying to.

“Some dinosaurs lived for three hundred years,” Biyen informed him.

“You’re fibbing me.”

“No. It’s in my book. I’ll show you when we get home.”

“You sure love dinosaurs. Why is that?”

“That’s a good question.” Biyen pinched his chin as he deliberated. “I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it.”

Logan looked at Sophie, expression bemused.

Biyen provoked that reaction a lot. Some people called kids like him an old soul, but Sophie liked to think he was just a bright kid who hadn’t been devastated by life yet. He led with his heart because it hadn’t been broken.

“Hi, Mom. Did you ask Emma?” were the first words out of his mouth.

“Rats. I forgot.” She came to the desk, hit the button for speakerphone, then the speed dial button labeled WILF HOME.

“G’day,” Emma answered after one ring.

“It’s me. Biyen is wondering if the kids want to play?”

“They’ve been asking about him all day. Send him over.”

“He just got off school. He hasn’t had a snack.”

“I’ll start a box of mac and cheese.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“No worries.”

---