Page 8 of A Christmas Mystery

Waiting never bothers me. I’m not an impatient person. I amuse myself as I stand in line by looking around, waving at an older lady who is a longtime friend of Tee, and nodding at the owner of the art supply store.

There’s a large table in the far corner with a bunch of people I recognize from school. Not friends but acquaintances. They don’t see me, and I don’t make an effort to catch their attention.

When I reach the counter, I turn around and blink when I recognize Chase Park taking orders. He was in my year of school, and I always liked him. A laid-back, good-natured guy with the bland, unfocused manner of a stoner or a surfer. I learned early on that he’s far more intelligent than he conveys. I wouldn’t have made it through the coding class I took on a whim if he hadn’t sat beside me and been willing to help.

My surprise isn’t that he’s still in town but that he’s still working at this coffee shop. He bused tables here back in high school.

“You’re still here,” I say without thinking.

His shoulders shake in a silent laugh that’s reflected in his eyes but not his mouth. “I have gone home a few times in the past ten years.”

“Sorry.” I shake my head with a smile. “I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”

“No worries. I’m not offended.”

I can tell he means it. He’s one of the most unruffled people I’ve ever known.

“It is kind of funny to think I might be a cursed soul trapped behind this counter serving Green-Valleyites coffee for eternity like poor Prometheus,” he goes on.

“You probably have it a little better than Prometheus,” I say with another smile, recognizing he’s joking despite his sober expression. Someone as smart as Chase could have gotten another job if he’d wanted one, so he must still be here by choice.

“I’m way better off than Prometheus.”

Peering at his attractive face and mobile mouth, I recognize some sort of energy simmering under the surface of his bland expression. Something new. Something that wasn’t there when I saw him last. “You look happy,” I say, blurting the words out without thinking it through, which is one of my unfortunate habits.

He gives another one of those silent chuckles. “I am happy.”

“I’m glad.”

“It looks like the past two years have been good for you too.”

“I think they have been. I needed to get away.”

“And are you planning to stay away?”

I shrug. “Probably. Although I’m going to try to visit more often now that I’m on better emotional footing.” When a man comes in and stands in line behind me, looking impatient, I order my herbal tea and cranberry-orange scone.

Chase winks at me after I pay.

Since he appears to be manning the shop all alone this evening and it will probably be a few minutes before my order is ready, I don’t wait at the counter. Instead, I turn toward the room to find a table for Daniela and me.

The big table has seen me now. A former classmate named Paige is waving at me, summoning me over to the empty seat at their table.

I walk over but don’t sit down, greeting everyone and explaining I’m meeting my cousin.

In addition to Paige, I recognize Dan Mills, Rafe and Jules Archibald, and Carlton Hill. I say hello to Dan’s newish wife, Vicky. After a few minutes of small talk, Paige starts to ask me about my art, photography, and jewelry.

I answer easily, but it feels like there’s a purpose behind her questioning. I don’t realize what it is until Chase comes over with my tea and scone, setting it on the table in front of where I’m standing and then walking over behind Paige. He squeezes her shoulder and then slides his hand to gently span the side of her neck. “Maybe let her get her bearings before you start recruiting her for your site,” he murmurs.

My recollection of Paige is as a hardworking, ambitious student who strove to excel at everything. She’s always been nice to me, but we’ve never had anything in common. It makes much more sense that she’s working on building her business rather than making idle conversation about my art.

I appreciate that she thinks my work is of value enough to recruit, and I’m about to ask for her contact information when I suddenly realize something. “Wait!” I blink at Paige. At Chase, whose hand is still tucked under her hair. “You two are together?”

The others at the table laugh at my blunt inquiry. Paige smiles. “We are. Since last Christmas.”

“I never would have put you two together, but you know, it fits perfectly.” I glance up at Chase, who is still simmering with that undercurrent of excitement. “No wonder you’re so happy.”

Chase isn’t embarrassed by the comment. I don’t remember him ever being embarrassed by anything. He’s about to say something, but then his eyes move to the front door. “There’s your cousin. And I better get back to work.”

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