Page 32 of Time After Time
The pain I’d experienced was all too vivid. Whenever I thought about Sylvie now, I felt a sharp, aching emptiness in my chest that only seemed to dissipate if I reminded myself multiple times that she was alive and real. Still, I found myself playfully telling her to start driving, just so I could place my hand on her arm and remind myself this wasn’t a dream.
I leaned back against the headrest, letting the first notes of the song wash over me. I was hoping for an upbeat track, something we could sing at the top of our lungs that would have someone from our town telling our parents they’d seen us shouting lyrics once again.
But that wasn’t what started playing.
My arm instinctively reached to change the song, but Sylvie intercepted, smacking my hand away without taking her eyes off the road. “You know the rules. No changing the song.”
With a frustrated groan, I closed my eyes, hoping it would shield me from the emotional impact of the lyrics.
Sebastian had a way of making this song his own, often whispering the lyrics just for me. Whenever I was anxious or overthinking, he would comfort me, and once silence fell over us, he would just start singing-whispering the lyrics on purpose.
Viennaby Billy Joel.
“Wise lyrics in this one.” My sister quipped. I shook my head again, accompanied by a faint sigh, tilting my head to the side to gaze out the window. The world outside was a blur of greens and blues, and the dull hum of the car made my eyelids grow heavy. I leaned back, letting the music and the rock of the car lull me into that hazy in-between place where thoughts ended up suspended mid-air.
By the time I blinked my eyes open again, we were pulling up to Mermaid’s Mug, and my mouth was already watering in anticipation. It had become one of our favourite spots for sisterly outings. A cosy little café by the sea with a never-ending menu. Sebastian loved it too, and he had been paid by the owner to create some desserts for them. He even helped prepare the menu to match the theme.
Sip ‘n’ Sweets used to be our go-to spot, tucked away by the beach and loved by locals and tourists alike. There was something incredibly calming about sinking into its plush chairs with the distant sound of waves. The salty sea air would fill our lungs as a warm breeze drifted through, making everything feeljustright. It was the kind of place where you could kick off your shoes, dig your toes into the sand, and let the world melt away.
When the owners of Sip ‘n’ Sweets left Golden Sands, Marigold stepped in and gave the place new life, turning it into the Mermaid’s Mug. The café was a vision in soft aqua-green, its pastel walls making it stand out among the more faded and nondescript buildings nearby. The sign above the door was eye-catching—flowing cursive letters filled with the scales of amermaid’s tail. And at the end of the lettering, an illustration of a blonde mermaid cradling a steaming mug.
“Outside?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. We loved being outdoors, especially on hot July days like this. The café’s patio was cosy, with seats that matched the place’s vibe. The cushions were soft and rose-coloured, not as plush as the ones at Sip ‘n’ Sweets, but comfortable enough.
“I’ll let Marigold know our table and put in our order,” Sylvie said, pointing to table two. I slid into my seat, nodding. “The usual?”
“You know it.”
Sylvie and I were complete opposites when it came to ordering. I stuck to my routine, always getting the same thing: a Caramel Macchiato and a slice of red velvet cake. The thought of trying something new and missing out on my favourite was enough to keep me from straying. My sister, on the other hand, lived for variety. She loved the excitement of switching it up, her coffee choices ranging from sweet to tangy, and her dessert choices spanning to cupcakes, cakes, and whatever else caught her eye.
Once back, Sylvie slid into the chair across from me, her sunglasses shielding her eyes from the relentless sun. “So, care to spill the tea on what’s going on with Sebastian?” she asked. I wanted to share, but I wasn’t even sure if I knew what was going on myself.
I crossed my legs and scratched my right knee absent-mindedly, the skin feeling dry from skipping moisturiser. My feet started to fidget. “I don’t know.” Leaning my elbow on the table, my gaze drifted to the mermaid tail napkins. “He’s been acting off since the other night.”
Sylvie leaned forward, her curiosity evident in the arch of her brow. “Any specific incident triggered this change?”
I sighed, my fingers instinctively crumpling one of the mermaid napkins beneath my clenched fist, my knuckles turning white with the intensity of my thoughts. “I’m not sure. I asked him, and he just said everything was fine, that I couldn’t do anything to make him mad.”
Sylvie listened intently as I told her everything that had happened recently, my clenched fist relaxing as the napkin beneath it smoothed out. It was our usual routine, getting together to talk through our thoughts and feelings in a place we both loved.
“He’s been helping me figure out my passions,” I said, steering the conversation while keeping Sebastian in focus. “We’ve been working at Rob’s diner in exchange for his business advice. I’m intrigued by the idea of owning a business, but I still need to decide what kind and anyway, there are a lot of things that could go wrong with owning a business.”
Sylvie sighed, wincing a bit before she opened her mouth. “There are a lot of things that can go wrong just because they can.”
Sylvie kept asking questions, trying to suggest potential interests that might align with my likes and dreams. But the same issue remained: I didn’t have a clear passion or hobby. The thrill of losing myself in something I truly loved still felt unimaginable. Sylvie had found hers in cars, and Sebastian had discovered his in baking. I felt adrift, still searching for that sense of purpose.
Our conversation was cut short by Benjamin, one of Marigold’s servers and a close friend of Sylvie’s, who I suspected might have a crush on her. “I was missing my favourite ladies,” he said, setting down my coffee and cake—there was no need for him to ask who had ordered it—with a charming smile that drew attention to his left snakebite piercing. “And, of course, the strangest combination ever for you.” As he handed Sylvie herorder, my attention shifted from his lingering gaze to the dark-coloured cake in front of her, which didn’t look very appetising.
“Thanks, Ben,” Sylvie said, offering a small smile as she pushed her sunglasses up to the top of her head. Benjamin’s gaze was warm, hinting at something more, while Sylvie’s was purely friendly.
“Can I bring my car to you one of these days? It’s making that awful noise again.” Ben said, batting his eyelashes.
My sister rolled her eyes and raised an eyebrow at him.
“You shouldn’t have gone to Old George’s,” Sylvie said, her frustration clear. “He’s clueless about what he’s doing, and it shows in his work. He’s just in it for the money.”
She was right.
Old George clearly hated his job, and it was a mystery why he kept at it. His lack of enthusiasm was evident in his shoddy repairs. Before Sylvie started taking in cars for service, Sebastian’s mum had taken their pickup to him. Old George charged them but never did a decent job. As word spread, more people turned to Sylvie for reliable service, and Old George’s reputation took a hit. Now, whenever he saw Sylvie, he shot her a resentful glare.
