Page 39 of In the Long Run
‘What happened?’I ask Celeste when I see the smashed cake stand on the floor behind the counter.Shards of glass litter the floor and cling to a pile of pain aux raisins.The swirls of glossy pastry and raisins have always been popular.
‘A little spill.No big deal,’ Celeste says matter-of-factly.
‘I’m so sorry.’The woman who asked about being slow earlier is standing in front of me, holding a toddler who has half a chocolate éclair on her face and in her hair.When she smiles, a bit of cream drips out of her small mouth.
‘It’s fine, honestly.’I take half a step into the side office and yep, there it is.The broom and dustpan are still in the same spot.The fact that so much hasn’t changed makes my chest ache in both a good and bad way.
‘At least let me pay for them.’The woman shifts her daughter to her other hip and tries to fish a bank card out of the pink running belt she’s wearing.
‘It’s really no problem.’Alizée’s has a long path to travel back to solid profitability, but Eugene would never take payment for something like this, and I’ve always tried to follow his example.‘If you like your treats today, come back and buy something again another time.’Aren’t returning customers the currency small business owners are most interested in?
‘Thank you,’ she says, wiping the little girl’s face.
I start sweeping up the mess.‘How’d you find the run this morning?’
‘Hard.But good.I’ve wanted to do a marathon for a long time, and I figured why not go for it?I get nervous running on my own though.Have you heard about the guy who’s’—her voice drops to a whisper—‘harassing female runners on the other side of town?’
Must admit I haven’t really been paying much attention to the news lately.‘No.’
‘Someone said he’s been spotted out this way.The mornings are going to be dark for a while yet.’
A lead weight forms in my stomach.
‘But the police are looking for him, so hopefully they catch him sooner rather than later.’
‘Po-po!’her daughter cries as she squeezes the chocolate éclair and cream oozes everywhere, all over her arms and yellow leggings.
‘I better get this one outside before we destroy your pâtisserie.’
‘I’ll see you next week …’ I pause, hoping she’ll tell me her name.
‘Violet.’
‘Violet,’ I repeat.‘I’m Knox, by the way.’
‘Oh, I know.’Her eyes light up.‘My PT saw your TikToks and suggested I come along.Besides, everyone loves a love story!’
Gen chooses that moment to enter with Meredith and Bernie.She’s been queuing outside, which makes me like her even more than I already do.The rosy-red knitted jumper that she’s pulled on over the top of her running clothes matches the flush on her cheeks.
Our eyes meet across the crowded room and I lift my chin, tilt my head to the space next to me, telepathically telling her to come forward.That she gets special treatment.That none of this would’ve happened without her.
Really, I just like being near her.
Gen shakes her head, and I swear she says my name.That’s what happens when you’re watching someone so closely.You notice everything about them.And I’m learning that every time I look at Gen, I discover something different about her.Like there’s a little freckle that sits just above her top lip.And she’s got a dimple in one cheek but not the other.That she can’t help but say silly things around me.Fuck knows I lose my mind around her.Case in point: when I told all of TikTok that I’d liked her immediately.My attempt to downplay the moment and hide behind our ‘plan’ was clumsy at best.
But the other thing I’m learning about all these little facts I’m collecting is that they’re already not enough.They make me want more, even if I shouldn’t.
Never mind that I don’t know how to ask for more.
There’s a commotion at the door and Brand pushes into Alizée’s, all swagger and show-pony flair, teeth brighter than the overhead lights.He stops next to Gen and says something that makes her chin jut forward, her expression harden.
What’s it going to take for this asshat to get a clue?
I’m out from behind the counter before I even register that I’m moving.
‘Apron suits you,’ is how Brand greets me.He gestures to the queue of people, the half-empty display cases, the line of cups with orders scrawled on the side in front of the coffee machine.He lowers his voice.‘It’s cute that you think this is going to work.’
It’s not cute how much I’d like to shove him out the door and put as much distance as possible between him and Gen, but I’m aware more than ever that people might be watching.After all, we’ve invited them here to watch.
