Page 34 of The Lone Wolf Café
“Ok, thank you.” I brushed past Rowena, making my way toward the kitchen door with the pumpkin spice container in hand. “I’ll get to it.”
“Nettie?”
I froze, but didn’t turn around. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry for laughing.”
I fought back a chuckle as I craned my chin over my shoulder, amused that Rowena was apologizing for a second time. “It’s not a big deal. In fact, it’s–”
“I grew up kind of isolated, too.”
I froze. This was the first time she’d mentioned something so personal about herself, but it plucked a deep, longing nerve in my heart.
It also makes me feel queasy. As much as I wanted to learn more about Rowena, I had work to do, and there wasn’t much time left before the café opened.
“Honestly, though,” I continued, cringing as I realized I was completely stepping over Rowena’s words. “It’s okay. In fact, consider it payback for me laughing at the coffee beans earlier.”
That made Rowena chuckle, and my heart fluttered again.
That laugh is so cute.
“I guess you’re right,” she nodded. Her smile disappeared quickly, as if she were scared to wear it for too long. “Let me know if you need anything while you’re baking.”
“I will!” I shouted over my shoulder as I strolled through the kitchen door.
Once I was alone in the kitchen, surrounded by ingredients and utensils, the silence gave my mind time to process our conversation.
Rowena bought me coffee.
We sat and drank our morning beverages together.
I’d learned what pumpkin spice was.
I’d heard Rowena laugh.
Her pale, petite face, framed by that messy bob of black hair, reappeared in my mind. Warmth prickled my cheeks, and alone in the solace of the kitchen, I grinned like a pining idiot.
Maybe I’ll have to try tea again,I thought as I worked at a hurried pace. Within thirty minutes, Mavro was settled into the oven, and the kitchen smelled delightfully of pumpkin spice. The goods would be ready just in time for the café to open.
I’m sure Rowena has plenty of recommendations.
The day came and went the same as it had before. There was a never-ending line all morning, followed by a small lunch rush and a slow trickle of customers in the afternoon.
I enjoyed the bustle of the morning rush – how it kept my hands and mind busy and I got to watch all of my pumpkin-spice pastries disappear from the display case. The customers were cheerful and inquisitive as always, and their compliments on my baking skills made my heart swell with pride.
“Wow, these are the best pumpkin spice cookies I’ve ever had!” Adrian exclaimed as he took a large mouthful, not even waiting for Rowena to tally up his order. “They’re so moist and chewy! What’s your secret?”
“Actual pumpkin,” I replied, and Rowena and I shared a knowing glance with a small chuckle. “It really helps keep the cookies from being too dry.”
Even though it didn’t contain actual pumpkin, the pumpkin spice blend was delicious. I even added some to a second cup of coffee once the morning rush was over, and Rowena explained to me how ‘pumpkin spice lattes’ were one of the favored drinks of humans.
“Why don’t we offer them in the shop then?” I asked as I rinsed out teacups.
Rowena scowled, and I giggled at the way her nose crinkled. “No. The coffee is just for you.”
“Pumpkin spice tea then?”
Rowena looked unamused at first, but I could see her expression shift as she continued cleaning. I knew she was brainstorming what kinds of tea would work well with pumpkin spice.
