Page 26 of Of Literature and Lattes
Janet, by her wondrous expression, didn’t hear it. “Some nights, early on, it felt like I lived and breathed only this. There was a clarity, creativity, and a hyper-focus I can’t explain. Look here. This is a painting I did of you. Do you remember the photo we took of you on the swings in Milan? The street artist painted your face? And this one...”
She moved through the room pointing here, there, low, high—Alyssa barely kept up with the color, the light, the commentary, the perspective. She found that the most challenging. The perspective. She didn’t recognize her own mom.
Janet must have felt her shift of emotion, because she stopped and stared at her. She reached out as if to touch Alyssa’s arm, then pulled back before making contact. “I’m sorry. I’ve thought about this moment for a long time, and I’m messing it up, not unlike Tuesday. I would’ve talked to you that night, but your light was off when I got home and then you were gone all day yesterday and... I didn’t want to wake you this morning.”
Alyssa kept her eyes on the walls. Looking at her mom was too hard—like when she tried as a kid to look at the sun and not blink. More had changed than she anticipated, and in that moment, when again the ground gave way beneath her, she struggled in her desperation to find stability.
“Nothing’s the same, is it?” The words came out in a whisper and felt more for herself than for her mom.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Janet stepped toward her again.
“I mean you, Dad, home, not home, me... this.” Alyssa waved her hand around the room. “I thought I could start again. That, in coming home, maybe I could catch my breath, catch up.” She twisted her wrist, fingers now pointing toward Janet. “Where was this when we were growing up, Mom? You don’t just go from zero to this in four months.” She stopped. The back of her throat stung with tears.
“I think I’d been storing it up for years. It kind of exploded out of me. And that was wrong, but I didn’t know—I promise I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?”
“That art, expressing myself in this way, was such an integral part of me. I got it wrong. I listened to the wrong voices and was punishing myself, or your father... I don’t even know anymore, but I ended up punishing you and Chase too. We moved here so fast, then you were born and I wanted to make everything perfect for you. I wanted to be perfect. The perfect wife. Mother. Friend. Neighbor. PTA volunteer. There wasn’t any room, at least I didn’t see any, for this, for me. I thought I had to leave it behind, that it was selfish and—”
A chime broke across the moment. Janet looked past her into the dark office. At the click of a switch, it filled with light.
“Janet?”
“In here,” Janet called before dropping her voice to Alyssa. “Madeline. Maddie Carter was her aunt and left her the shop. She and Claire own it together now.”
Alyssa turned, expecting to meet a slightly younger Mrs. Carter, someone near her mom’s age. Instead she found a woman exactly her own age—and almost her height. Auburn hair arced up at her forehead, giving her face a heart-shaped appearance, before it curled past her shoulders. Madeline’s brown eyes widened upon seeing her and lit with delight.
“Wow. You’re Alyssa.” She laughed. “Chris was right.” Madeline looked between Alyssa and Janet. “Come on, you two. Don’t tell me you can’t see it? You’re twins—well, Janet’s got more wrinkles and something concerning waddling just below her chin.” Madeline winked at Alyssa.
“Thank you.” Janet smirked.
“Don’t see what?” Another woman stepped around and in front of Madeline. This one was closer to Janet’s age, with darker brown bobbed hair. “Alyssa... Oh, it’s so good to meet you. Are you here long?” The woman threw a questioning glance to Janet and thrust out her hand. “I’m Claire Durand.”
“Claire, as I said, owns the shop with Madeline,” Janet added.
“How long are you here?” Madeline pressed past Claire and brought them both spilling into the small room.
“I... I have to go.” Alyssa swiveled around them and backed through the office toward the storefront. “I really do. It’s nice to meet you both, but I didn’t realize how late it was.” She glanced back to her mom, unable to hold her gaze. “I’m meeting Lexi for coffee.”
With that, she bolted out the storefront and onto the sidewalk.
Chapter 13
“Hello? Earth to Lys?” Alyssa’s best friend waved a hand inches from her face. “I’ve been calling your name since across the street.”
Alyssa grabbed her into a hug.
“Good to see you too,” Lexi laughed.
Alyssa almost mentioned the studio, the women, the shop, then realized Lexi already knew. Lexi lived in Winsome, and had stayed since college. None of this was a surprise to her—only Alyssa had been left in the dark. She offered an “I’m so glad to see you” instead and looped her arm through her friend’s.
Lexi spun them toward Andante. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about coming home until yesterday. Seriously, you go radio silent for six months and then you’re here... Why are you here?” Without waiting for an answer, she cinched Alyssa tighter at their interlaced arms and whispered, “Wait till we’re seated. I want to hear everything.”
As they walked the few steps to the coffee shop, Alyssa took in Winsome—and saw it as if for the first time. What was once poky and provincial now bustled with activity. The town square was crisscrossed with people. New, and more, parking spaces were delineated on the diagonal rather than running along the street parallel. New plaques emblazoned the doors between shops. By the signs, many of the above-store apartments had been converted into offices—an architect, a lawyer, a dentist... A medical spa spanned the space above the coffee shop and Olive and Eve Designs. Even Winsome Jewelers, its protruding sign visible down a side street, sported a new logo and graphics as swanky as Andante’s.
Lexi held open the coffee shop door as Alyssa focused on the fountain. Despite everything said against it for decades, she liked that the town had installed that fancy heater all those years ago and that the water now flowed all year round. There was something hopeful about that symbolism and its plaque declaring Winsome’s “never-ending flow of love and support for those who have gone before us.”
“Do you love living here?” she asked Lexi, who directed her toward the counter.
