Page 26 of Salvation
I smile, hoping it reassures her.
“It’s fine. I haven’t been here long, and Mason and I were just talking,” I say.
She huffs out a long, exaggerated sigh. “I’m sure you were. He still hasn’t caught on to the whole stranger danger lesson. To him, everyone has the potential to be a friend.”
“Right,” I say, feeling awkward since I’m the “stranger danger” in question.
The woman must notice my unease because she smiles and claps her hands together. “Anyway, I’m Zoey. I own this place. I haven’t seen you around. Are you just passing through?”
I shake my head, finding it nice that at least one person here doesn’t know me or my grandparents. “Not exactly. I—umm—I inherited a house here. I’m still figuring out what to do with it.”
It’s at least part of the truth. It’s not like I can just blurt out that I have a daughter I thought was dead, and I’m at least sticking around until I find her, and after that—well, I don’t know what comes after that.
“Oh? What house?”
“Ummm—the Cunningham house. Over on Lincoln Street.”
Zoey gasps. “No way. I drive by that house all the time just to look at it. It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks.” My smile is tight because she’s right. Objectively, it is a beautiful home, but so many ugly things have taken place inside those walls that I don’t know if I can ever let myself love it.
Once again, Zoey notices the tension and changes the subject. “Listen to me rambling on. You came for substance. What can I get you?”
“A coffee, please. Black.” I hesitate a minute, casting a glance at the display case full of pastries. I bite my lip, talking myself out of it. “And that’s it.”
Zoey grins. “Coming right up.”
She busies herself, grabbing a cup and the coffee pot, and I decide I like her. She didn’t push for my story for small-town gossip. She realized I was uncomfortable and moved on. Not many people are like that.
In no time, she’s sliding the coffee cup in front of me along with a bag.
“What’s this?” I ask, my brows dipping in confusion.
Zoey shrugs. “Sometimes you just need the pastry.”
Tears sting the back of my eyes. She couldn’t possibly know how badly I needed that one act of kindness, but I’ll forever be thankful for it anyway.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice a whisper to keep it from breaking. “What do I owe you?”
“It’s on the house. Consider it reimbursement for having to be a witness to me throwing myself over a counter.”
I laugh, feeling lighter if only for a second.
“Well, thanks again. I’ll definitely be back.” With the coffee cup and bag in hand, I lift a hand and wave goodbye, heading for the door. Zoey waves back, and I’m about to head out when a flyer catches my attention.
It’s hung to the right of the door, the bright colors drawing my eye. At the top, it reads, “Local Painter Wanted for Community Center Mural.”
Painting has always been a part of me—a way for me to express myself when my voice felt silent. I made a career of it, but lately, it feels lackluster. I work on commission for high-end clients, providing artwork for their homes, but nothing about it feels meaningful anymore. It’s why all my canvases have remained blank. Something about this community center project calls to me, though. Without analyzing it like I usually do, I pick up the phone and call the number at the bottom.
Chapter 13
Ivy
Awoman answered when I called the number on the flyer, and when I told her I was still at the coffee shop, she asked if I could stay for a little while. Since I have no other plans—and I’m avoiding going back to the house—I said yes.
With my coffee and pastry in hand, I take a seat beside one of the windows at the front so I can watch the world outside. People pass by in groups, laughing and smiling at each other as they talk, and I sit and watch from a distance. It’s fitting, I guess, since that’s what I’ve done most of my life—sat on the outside and watched.
Soon enough, the coffee shop’s door opens with a little chime, and a tall, blonde-haired woman walks through. Her pant suit and blazer are light pink, adding femininity to the confident set of her shoulders as she surveys the shop and takes in the people around her. Several people say hello to her, and she smiles back at them, saying something I can’t hear.
