Page 17 of Mother Parker
She took another sip, and this time I could tell she had sucked in a strawberry pearl because her face brightened again.
“Yep, yep. I’ll definitely be back, and then we can try that tarot chocolate-chip tea because it sounds interesting,” she said, walking out of the shop.
“Don’t forget to tell your friends how good Bubble Bubble is!” I shouted after her.
She waved at me, opened the door, and I returned to enjoying—or rather tolerating—my solitude.
“Right,” I said to no one and spun around, taking in my shop. The dream I’d had since I could remember myself.
The chairs and tables were a pick and mix from the local charity shop, all refurbished to look brand new and full of character. The tables, in particular, had been painted pink or white, and they all carried vases with fresh flowers and tins with cutlery and napkins.
Three walls had been lined with wallpaper made to look like white stone, and the front wall was pink. An old, square, tin sign that readPear’s Bubble Tea Caféin big, bold brush script hung on the wall.
The steel furniture for the small patio outside was all brand new, painted in my trademark colors, but everywhere I looked was empty.
“At least you’re here,Omma,” I said, looking at the shop sign that once hung outside her very own bubble tea shop.
I attempted to imagine her standing beside me, but no matter how many pictures of her I had, the images couldn't be life-like, and it had been almost fifteen years since she passed. It was only natural that my memories of her were more sentimental than realistic, but it hurt either way.
Before I depressed myself, I took my phone out, did a quick live for my Kimchis, and proceeded to make some cool bubble teas to upload on my Instagram and other social media over the next few days.
I had a lot more plans to tackle the slow business, but until I had a helping hand that wasn’t here just on the weekends, I couldn’t really do much, and until I got busier, I couldn’t afford full-time help.
Stupid catch-22!
The bell over the door tingled, and I turned to greet my new customer.
It was a tall, lean man with dark-brown hair, brown eyes, and a firm bearded jaw. His lips tilted to the side when he saw me, and I leaned on one of my chairs with my hand on my hip.
“Oh, it’s you. Again,” I said, going for a deep, brusque voice, but I ended up sounding comical.
“Nice to see you again too, sunshine!” Carson replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“If I wanted to see you every day, I wouldn’t have quit my job at the grill.”
“Awww, love you too, sweetheart,” he replied, snatching one of the bubble teas I’d made for pictures and sucking on it. “Mmm. Nice. Chocolate and…hazelnut?”
I nodded. “Yeah. That’s the Ferrero Rocher milk tea with boba.”
He took another sip and closed his eyes as he chewed the tapioca in his mouth.
“I like it!” He smiled.
I pushed his chest away and smirked.
“Well, duh! Of course, you do. It’s divine. And I made it.”
“True,” he answered with a wink. “So…no one around, huh?”
“Oh no. I’m rushed off my feet. Can’t you see all the customers waiting to be served?”
“Well, it is a Monday! EvenI’mnot open Mondays. Why are you?”
I sighed and walked away from my friend. As if I wouldn’t love to be upstairs relaxing with a good book and a cup of tea or visiting my friends at the Outpost.
“I’m a new business, Carson. People need to learn that I’m here and they can trust me.”
“People do trust you. They’ve known you all their lives.”
