Page 15 of Purple Scales & Coffee Tales

There was never a big fuss when I arrived. My family dealt with big emotions behind closed doors.

Well, everyone but me.

“Hey mum, Gwyn.” My little sister, who was about to set the table, paused and gave me a quick hug. “How are things?” Without needing to be told, I helped her with the plates and cutlery, poured glasses of water for each of us, and then waited for Mum to put the lasagna dish on the table.

“Oh, same old, same old. School’s fine.”

“I just had a long week,” Mum sighed, looking tired as ever. Then she ranted about one of her colleagues and whatever she had done to offend her. Ugh, it had been so hard to get rid of the habit of gossiping about random people. I still caught myself having these nasty thoughts but made sure to counter them with my own immediately afterwards.

“How is your…school?” she eventually asked when she’d vented enough.

“Uni, Mum,” I reminded her gently. “Well, I’ve mostly given up on my studies, to be honest. I got promoted to manager at the cafe. It has a new owner, a Dragon.”

Immediately afterwards, I wished I hadn’t mentioned Taran.

My mum barely managed to conceal her sigh of relief.

“You’ve given up on it? For a job at the cafe?” Dad asked me cautiously. “Why don’t you at least finish your last year before you start working full-time at the cafe?”

“Stop it, Jack. She wants to do something with her time, let her. She’ll earn good money as a manager, right? I hope that Dragon isn’t one of those greedy people who tries to get rich at your expense?” She surveyed me over a forkful of lasagna.

“I’m trying to get my degree but the cafe’s going to come first, Dad,” I explained. “And no, he isn’t, Mum.”

Don’t engage, Maeve. Just let it go.

“I hope so. Gott, I remember how much Oma always hated Dragons.” And she was off again, talking about my stern German grandmother who, let’s be honest, never liked anything much.

When Mum was like that ignoring her was the best strategy, and it gave me the opportunity to talk to my sister. Gwyn was about to turn eighteen and would finish school at the end of summer.

They weren’t the perfect parents, but they had always been supportive of my decisions. I could appreciate them for it, and besides, I was far from perfect myself.

Nonetheless, it was good to be back in Kirkmuir and in the peace and quiet of my own room.

Yeah, my family was great, but I loved them best from afar.

Chapter Eleven

Maeve - Three weeks later

My phone chimed as I was heading to a lecture on branding. I’d started going to uni more to squeeze every last bit of knowledge from my courses that I could. Directly applying it to the cafe’s branding helped keep me interested and I kind of loved it.

Taran: Hey boss, are you free this afternoon?

Taran: Can you meet me at the cafe at two?

Maeve: I can make quarter past two, I’m headed into a lecture.

Maeve: I can skip it though

Taran: NO!

Taran: Quarter past is perfect. I’ll see you later!

It was hard to focus on my lecture knowing that I’d be seeing Taran again after almost two weeks. I’d never admit it, not even under torture, but I was fucking pining at this point. The number of times I had touched myself thinking of him over the past fortnight was concerning, even to me. I also had a horrible mosquito bite halfway up my back that itched like crazy, and not matter how hard I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t.

Ugh, it was running into Vaughn that put my mind off things for a moment.

“Hey bubba,” I called, waving over at him and jumping into his arms. I loved that fluffy guy like a brother.

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