Page 18 of There’s Trouble Brewing

They stood for a while, letting the festival spin outaround them, the edges of it already growing soft and thin. In the past, he’d have been halfway back to the coffee shop, avoiding all the things Emily didn’t seem to care about avoiding: crowds and laughter and too many feelings.

“Mark, you did great up there,” Emily encouraged with a smile. “Next time, you just need to relax a little.”

“Next time?” he questioned with a raise of his eyebrows. “There better not be a next time.”

“Oh, there will be. It’ll just be for when you earn the honor of best coffee shop in Texas.”

“Now that I can live with,” he stated with a nod. “But I’ll just have you accept it for me instead.”

As soon as he said it, he realized his mistake. She wouldn’t be there by the time that was a possibility. And that knowledge bothered him more than he cared to admit.

“We should probably get back to the booth and help out,” Mark mumbled, trying to quickly divert her from his verbal blunder.

They were only back a few minutes when Nicole came over to the booth with Kurt and his parents.

“We can’t thank you enough for what you did for our little boy,” Kurt’s mother told Mark with a quick hug.

“If there’s anything you ever need, we’re more than happy to help out,” Kurt’s father added, shaking Mark’s hand.

“I’ll never forget how you helped me,” Nicole said with tears in her eyes as she glanced between Mark and Emily. “Both of you.”

Mark noticed that Kurt was standing behind his mother, peeking out every so often to look at him. He bent down to be on the little boy’s level. “How are you doing, buddy?”

“Good,” Kurt told him. “It was really scary though.”

Mark nodded. “I know it was, but you’re okay now. That’s what matters.”

“Thank you,” the little boy whispered. “I like being alive.”

The frankness of Kurt’s statement caused everyone to laugh. There was another round of thank-yous before the Hutton family took off.

“That was really nice of you,” Emily praised.

Mark shrugged as he picked up a rag to wipe the booth’s counter. “It was nothing.”

“You know, you dismiss what you do all the time. It wouldn’t hurt to be proud of all the amazing things you do every once in a while,” Emily gently chastised before getting back to work.

Her words bounced around in his head. Part of him knew that Emily was right, but it wasn’t like him to take credit for doing the right thing. It was just part of his nature to want to help people.

By the time the festival was ending, the baristas had done most of the clean-up, but there were still a few odds and ends to finish after they left. This time, Emily let him help.

As they moved to put away the last of the supplies and roll up the banners, Mark realized how much he enjoyed spending time with Emily. He wanted to tell her so. He wanted to say the other things he never got around to saying, and more than that, he wanted the right words to find him when he needed them most.

“Didn’t think the booth would run as smooth as it did,” she told him. “Had my doubts about the baristas, but they managed to keep it together.”

Mark laughed a low chuckle that felt good to release after the tension of the day. “You underestimate your team.They’re good because you’re good at leading them, even if you doubt it sometimes.”

Emily glanced at him, her expression softening. “Thanks, Mark. That means a lot coming from you. I’ve always admired how you handle things...straightforward and strong.”

He shifted uncomfortably, not used to receiving compliments any more than he was used to public accolades. “I just do what needs to be done.”

As they finished tidying up the booth, Mark gently brought up what happened earlier. “So, about earlier...with your ex,” he started cautiously, not wanting to pry but needing to understand. “Is everything okay now? I mean, he didn’t seem too happy about being told to leave.”

Emily sighed, dropping a stack of napkins into a box with more force than necessary. “Yeah, I think so. I hope so. It’s just…complicated. And old news, really. I should’ve handled it better before things reached this point.”

Mark nodded, understanding her need for privacy and not pushing further. Instead, he focused on helping her fold up a banner. “You know you can talk to me if you ever need to vent or…anything,” he offered tentatively.

She smiled at him gratefully. “I know, Mark. Thank you.” She paused, then added, laughing slightly, “Seems like we’re both pretty terrible at accepting help or talking about our feelings.”

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