Page 5 of Falling For Us Again

“Ouch,” I say, clutching my chest in mock pain. “Come on, Maggie, you know that’s a touchy subject for Mrs. Anderson. You did wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

Maggie is my right hand at The Hartlow House Café. She’s a professional barista and a Hartlow native. We often joke about how our parents expected us to leave town in pursuit of bigger dreams, only for us to return and settle back in.

“Yes. I did.”

I laugh. “Well, that makes two of us. Couldn't fall asleep, and when I did it was nothing but crazy dreams.”

“Oh, really?” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Anything spicy?”

“Please,” I say, brushing off the comment as I glance at a vintage painting on the wall, though my mind is elsewhere. Flashes of the dream linger, starring a woman who’s now out of reach—a woman I’ve grown to despise. A pang of pain hits my chest at the thought of her.

She’s part of my past now. Long gone.

I press the button on the coffeemaker with more force than necessary, trying to push her memory out of my mind.

“It was just a weird dream,” I say, more to myself than to her.

“Hmm, care to share?” Maggie asks from the kitchen, where she’s mixing flour for a new batch of pancakes.

“Nah,” I reply, leaning against the counter as I watch her work. “It’s not important.”

“Hey Dylan, did you hear the news?” Sam Gelding calls from his table with a gap-toothed smile.

I turn to him with raised eyebrows. “What news?”

“Well, help me arrange a bouquet to celebrate Diane and I’s anniversary, and I’ll tell you.”

I chuckle. “Of course.”

I begin putting together roses and peonies, lavender, white calla lilies, sprigs of eucalyptus, and clusters of baby’s breath fortheir symbolism of everlasting love and purity. Satisfied with the arrangement, I wrap the bouquet in The Hartlow House Café Flower Cafe brown paper and tie it with a silk ivory ribbon.

“I wouldn't believe it if I was merely told, but I saw her myself.” Sam says to Jill, shaking his head as he speaks.

Dylan walks to his table with the fresh bouquet. “Here’s your bouquet, Sam. And happy anniversary!”

Sam grins and nudges him to sit on the empty chair next to Jill.

Just then, Old Jake raises his head, satisfactorily throwing the newspaper on the table.

“Have y'all heard? The Goldberg girl’s back in town. She arrived yesterday.” He says before sipping his coffee.

The cafe falls into silence for a moment as his words sink in. A pit forms in my stomach, and my head spins when I hear those words.

I was about to sit on the chair at Sam’s table when Old Jake drops the news; I stand suspended for a few seconds before crashing into it, the chair scraping in protest against the floor.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Old Jake!” Sam whines. “That was my news to tell.”

The cafe goes into murmurs and whispers as the other townspeople receive the information.

I clear my throat, trying to recover from my shock. “Goldberg girl?” I manage to say, but my words sound hollow even to my ears.

Jill clicks her tongue. “Jenna Goldberg, of course.”

My limbs quiver beneath the table, and I couldn't be more grateful to be sitting right now.

“You know her very well, don't you? Weren't you two young lovers back in the day?”

All I can do is weakly shake my head.

---