Page 41 of Scrape the Barrel
The problem with trusting any babysitter was that I’d want to know what was happening every second while I was away, and that was probably the last thing any of them would want to do—update the mother constantly. But Callan did it willingly. I hadn’t even asked for them, he justdidit. Everything he’d done today, between watching Avery for me and bringing me a get-well basket, showed just how thoughtful he was.
What guy did that? Because I was convinced men like that didn’t exist.
But here Callan was, right in front of me, teaching my daughter how to ride horses and voluntarily stepping up to watch her for me so I didn’t have to bring her to work.
Not to mention that he’d suggested I take a bath instead of sticking around to help out with the cat situation. And the fact that I got to nap? I hadn’t had time for a nap since before Avery was born, but even then, they were few and far between because my ex didn’t think they were productive.
I didn’t want to confuse myself by getting caught up in the small things Callan did for me. He was just helping out for the time being, and then he’d be gone. I couldn’t have him teach Avery for free forever, and I wouldn’t be able to afford lessons once I had to start paying for them, so this kindness from Callan had to stop at some point.
I just feared I’d miss it too much when it did.
Callan was everything a woman could want: handsome, overly caring, thoughtful, and he worked on a ranchteaching children to ride horses. If your ovaries didn’t explode over that, there was something wrong with you.
Sure, we got off on the wrong foot when I spilled coffee on him, but he hadn’t held it against me. We’d both had a bad morning, and we started fresh after Avery’s first lesson, but now I was starting to enjoy the little things he did, and that was dangerous.
I couldn’t let myself get used to this. He was only temporary.
I stayed on top of the dishes and wiped the counters after each customer. I was not in the mood to stay late today, given I wanted to get home and make sure Callan and Avery hadn’t burned the house down.
It was always slow in the afternoons, which was why Erica changed our closing time to five p.m. instead of seven about a year ago. It was costing us too much to stay open that late with not much foot traffic to justify it. I wasn’t complaining though; it just meant the second shift was shorter if we split up the day. Most of the week, we’d work through from opening to close, but a few days a week, they were split, so one of us would have mornings and the other the afternoon. It was well balanced between Gemma, Penny, and myself, but the days that Gemma flaked, I’d have to cover if Penny couldn’t come in, which sucked, but I appreciated the extra money. The schedule helped during the school year, but wasn’t the most ideal in the summer when I’d have to drag Avery to the cafe midday.
My phone dinged with a text on the counter beside me and I picked it up, seeing Callan’s name across the screen.
Callan:Avery is telling me all the names of her My Little Pony’s. Peanilla was an interesting one
I smiled down at the phone, typing out a reply.
Me:Just wait till she gets to Chicken
Three little dots appeared and I stared at them, waiting for his response.
Callan:I guess that goes hand in hand with the cat’s name being Pudding
My cheeks ached as my smile widened, but before I could begin typing back, the cowbell above the door clanged. I locked my phone, slipping it into my apron.
“Good evening,” I said to the man. He was wearing a black zip-up and blue jeans, and his dark hair was cropped close to his scalp.
“Hello, there,” he greeted as he approached the counter. His eyes searched the small pink dining area before landing on me, glancing at my name tag.
“Midday coffee?” I asked.
“Black, please,” he replied.
I typed it into the register and turned, pouring some beans into the machine and starting it up.
“You have a lovely cafe, Ms…” He trailed off, and I assumed he wanted me to fill in the blank.
“You can call me Sage,” I said, leaning a hip against the counter as I waited for the coffee to brew. “But thank you.”
He pursed his lips, giving a small nod.
“Would you like any food with your coffee?”
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, keeping his attention on me. “No, ma’am.”
I turned back to the pot, my fingers finding the charm on my necklace. Unease crept through me with his presence. He filled the room, but given he was the only one here aside from me, there wasn’t anyone else to focus on.
Once it was done brewing, I wiped my hands on my apron before pouring the coffee into a paper cup, then popped the lid on. Turning to place it on the counter in front of him, I read off his total. He handed me some cash, and I held his change out to him after counting it out.
