Page 114 of Salute, To Bravery
I just laughed along with everyone else who was listening.
“I love that cafe, it’s my favorite place to work,” a blonde pregnant lady perked up. “I’m Sarah, by the way.” She waddled over and shook my hand as well.
“Violet, a pleasure to meet you, Sarah.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” she said with a smile.
“What do you do for work?” I asked her, with curiosity soaking every word.
“I am a graphic designer,” she boasted.
“Do you work for a company?”
“Well, I do, but it’s a company that my husband and I built together. He likes the business side of owning a company, and I like the creative side of owning a company, so it works out very nicely.” Her smile was so warm.
“That’s so cool. I run my own business, too; it’s a small business, but it’s still mine. I’m a website developer.”
“Oh my God, I need a new website, and we haven’t found anyone who has shared our same qualities and style, but you seem like the perfect match,” she exclaimed. “Is it okay if I get your number and give it to my husband so he can contact you about your pricing?”
“Of course.” I gave her my number, and we were off to lunch.
I carpooled with Sarah, Ophelia, and Leanne. That was the best decision. Leanne was choosing music, Ophelia was driving, and Sarah and I were in the back. Leanne and I had similar music tastes, and the music was loud enough to drown out the fears about lunch.
After about a half hour’s drive, we reached the Book Store Cafe. It was a brick structure with beautiful gingerbread trimming around the building. It was as if it were out of an old movie.
“Do we go inside and get a table, or do we wait out here?” I asked awkwardly.
“Normally, we go inside and get a table,” Ophelia said as we got out of the vehicle.
As if right on cue, everyone else arrived in a minivan. We all walked in together.
Downstairs was a bookstore with cats, and upstairs was the restaurant. The interior was as beautiful as the exterior, with raw brick everywhere except for one accent wall, which was black. What a lovely contrast to the pastels.
“Hello,” Sarah said to the waitress at the counter.
“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” she informed us. She clicked on her screen a few times, then looked at the group. “How many?” The poor woman sounded exhausted.
“Eleven, and this will all be on one bill.”
The waitress nodded and took us upstairs and sat us down at a raised table.
“So, tell me about your life and what brought you to this lovely little group of ours,” Ophelia asked after everyone had ordered their drinks.
“Well, I was an orphan and in the foster system until my dad adopted me when I was six,”too much information,“I have been having horrible night terrors and PTSD symptoms ever since I’ve been back from Germany. My dad is a senior master sergeant, so he understands what I’m going through, which is nice, but he still insisted on me going to therapy, and so did my best friend. So now I’m here.”
Just as I finished telling a little bit of my life, I felt a buzz in my back pocket.I took my phone out and saw that it was Luna texting me.
Hey, when are you going to get back to me? Love ya <3
Hey, sorry, therapy went great, out for lunch. Call ya when I get home.
I quickly placed my phone on silent and into my back pocket. “So, what brought you to therapy?”
“Well, it’s a long story but to put it short, my parents forced me to go after coming back from Japan.” Ophelia seemed taken back and kind of closed off at the thought of all of it. “At least we have that in common, parents whosomewhatcare about us.” She chuckled, yet her eyes were lowered.
A dull pain started to form in my stomach. I wanted to reach out and hold her hand, but didn’t.
Soon enough, the waitress brought us our drinks and asked what we would like to eat. We all placed our orders. I only asked for fries, which, thankfully, no one noticed. I felt bad that Sarah was paying for all of us; it made me feel insecure in a way.
