Page 14 of Finding Silence
Today’s special - Caramel Macchiato
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That sounds right up my alley. I don’t indulge often—these days my hips are eager recipients of unnecessary calories—but every now and then I crave that rich sweetness.
As I push open the door, I hear my name called. I smile when I spot Savvy in a booth at the back of the coffee shop, waving me over.
“Come join me!”
Every set of eyes in the place is now fixed on me, so I quickly walk over.
“Let me grab a coffee first. Can I get you anything?”
“I’m good, and your coffee is on me. What would you like?” Savvy counters.
I notice she has what looks like a macchiato in front of her. The mound of whipped cream and drizzled caramel makes my mouth water.
I point at it. “One of those.”
“Gotcha.” Then she fixes her eyes on the woman behind the counter and calls out, “Bess, can I have another caramel macchiato for my friend Phil?”
“You betcha. One macchiato coming up,” she calls back.
Savvy turns back to me, a satisfied grin on her face.
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
She shrugs. “Fastest way to get the nosy Parkers to stop gawking and whispering behind your back.”
“And endorsing my character by identifying me as a friend,” I add. “To the sheriff, no less.”
“Probably doesn’t hurt,” she admits. “Although, for some it might be a strike against you. Not everyone likes me in the role of sheriff.”
“I appreciate the show of support either way,” I assure her.
“It’s me who’s grateful. Not only because you removed the albatross from around my neck and paid generously for it, but also because you appear to have breathed some life into my father’s ho-hum existence.”
“I have?”
I’m not aware of any such thing, but I sure am curious to know how she came to that conclusion.
“One caramel macchiato, and a couple of apple blueberry turnovers on the house,” Bess announces, setting my coffee and the two pastries on the table. “You two can be my guinea pigs, it’s a new recipe I’m trying out.”
She slips back behind the counter before I can thank her.
“Why do you think I come in here to drink my coffee on Fridays?” Savvy shares with a grin as she grabs one of the turnovers. “Bess always does her baking for the weekend.”
“Smart.”
I grab my own pastry and take a bite of the flaky confection, groaning as the flavors hit my tongue. My hips are in big trouble.
“And to answer your question,” Savvy says, still chewing. “Yes, you have. Dad shared about Angus’s latest escapade, and how you showed up with the stupid goat and a half-chewed pair of panties. He can’t get a bead on you; he’s rattled.”
She leans across the table.
“You do him good.”
I bark out a laugh. “I seriously question whether your father would agree with you.”
