Page 88 of Of Literature and Lattes
“Everyone else does too... What can I get for you?”
“Tea. Do you have a nice chamomile tea?” George infused a little spark into his voice.
“I do.” Jeremy turned to scoop the tiny yellow flowers into a small silk pouch, then twisted back to talk to George while he worked. “Your wife’s service was beautiful, by the way.”
George nodded. “She would have loved it, especially Devon getting up to talk. He’s the quietest of the bunch, believe it or not. I almost had a stroke when he walked up to that lectern. No one told me.” He patted his chest. “I did mention to them later that it was not the best time for surprises.”
“Oh...” Jeremy placed a white china mug on the counter between them.
George laughed. “It was a good surprise though, and yes, it was a beautiful service.”
Jeremy looked behind him with such a questioning glance George turned too. No one was there. He turned back to the young man.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
Jeremy leaned toward him. “What Devon said?” The question was so soft, almost a whisper, that George had to lean closer to hear him. “That you chose him and his siblings... Is it enough? To be chosen?”
George straightened. He knew nothing about Jeremy, his situation, or what was behind his question. But he knew exactly what to say. Margery had said it to him just about twenty years ago. “Sometimes that’s all a kid has, and yes, it is enough. It is more than enough, I promise you.”
Jeremy swallowed. His Adam’s apple rose and fell as if dropped hard.
George wasn’t sure if his comment was reassuring or upsetting.
“Thank you.” Jeremy slid the mug closer to George.
As George reached for his wallet, Jeremy waved it away. His eyes shone and his mouth worked to form words. “Tea is on the house tonight.”
George didn’t protest. Instead he quickly lifted the cup in thanks and turned away.
No man wanted another to see him cry.
Chapter 39
Jeremy wiped his hands on a pristine white towel. He’d gotten the idea from Liam, and even though coffee grounds turned his towels brown almost as quickly as he pulled them from the drawer, he found a battle cry in each fresh towel. He understood now why Liam used them. Sure, they looked good, but they also felt like a call to do his best.
Ryan joined him behind the counter.
He saw that call within Ryan too, and wondered how he hadn’t noticed it before. Without being asked, Ryan had not only picked up the slack left from Brendon’s departure, but had taken ownership for certain parts of the business and pushed them ahead too. He actively talked up the book club every chance he got and had signed up another twenty customers.
Jeremy shook his head. None of this within Ryan was new. Jeremy had simply discounted it. No, that wasn’t right. He’d been wary of it, even envious. To know what you want, to push for connection...
“Can you close tonight?” Jeremy tapped Ryan on the shoulder. “I’ve been in and out all day, but I need to go talk to Krista.”
“I’m fine here, but are you okay? It’s late. Don’t you want to take a breather? Let her bomb settle for a few days?”
“I thought I did. I’d like to never see her again.” Jeremy looked across the shop to where George sat with his cup of tea. “But time isn’t on my side. I’ve got too much to lose.”
“Sure. Go.”
Before he knew it, Jeremy pulled into Krista’s driveway. It stunned him how a dark and silent half-hour drive could fly by without one noticing a moment of it. He hadn’t turned on the radio, Spotify, or anything. Not because his thoughts were loud, but because he was beyond thought—too tired, too worn, and too overwhelmed. And he had no idea what he was going to say now that he’d arrived.
Krista answered the door. She said nothing. She simply stepped outside under the lantern mounted above the front door and shut the door behind her.
He turned and dropped onto the steps.
“I called you. Several times.” She lowered herself next to him.
