Page 13 of Dear Henry, Love Edith
Crazy as Angela made him, at least she was real. Not some dream girl. He just needed to try a little harder to make it work. Forget Goldie. For all he knew, she could be some lunatic who’d escaped from a maximum security prison, out on the lam. Best to forget about her right now.
He picked up his phone and dialed the physical therapy department’s number. “Can you let Lance know I’m not going to make it today? Something important came up.”
Henry pocketed his phone. He’d forget about her tomorrow once he found out who she was today.
Edith’s only plan after a restless night with little sleep was to walk until she came across a place that looked like it sold a decent cup of coffee. A two-story yellow house with a sign in the front that readMarvel for Sheriff!next to a sign proclaimingCoffee Forever!seemed a good place to start.
A wooden door painted in purple sat propped open. Edith opened the screen door and stepped inside to the intoxicating aroma of warm caramel mixed with cinnamon, honey, and roasted coffee beans. She had chosen wisely.
A black cat curled up in a wicker basket on the counter greeted her through bored, slitted eyes. “Hi there, kitty,” Edith returned his greeting.
A round, flush-faced woman holding a tray of cinnamon rolls burst through a set of saloon doors behind the counter. She spotted Edith. “Oh. Hi. You’re new.” She shoved the tray onto one of the shelves. “I’ll have fresh baked scones out in two shakes of a tail.” She pointed to herself. “Julie.” Pointed to a chalkboard menu above her on the wall. “Our specials.” She disappeared through the doors before they’d had a chance to stop swinging.
Edith sniffed appreciatively as she read the board. She’d made it to the chai tea options when the screen door behind her opened and slammed shut with a bang. Edith jumped. The cat yawned. The tiny wrinkle-faced woman who’d entered yelled.
“What’s that cat doing on the counter? Julie! I told you last time I was calling the sanitation department and this time I’m going to do it!”
Julie reappeared, carrying a tray of scones. “Now, Opal, you know he doesn’t bother anybody. He’s practically dead. Just let him be.”
“All the more reason to get rid of him. Nobody wants to be served a donut from where a dead cat’s been lying. It’s filthy, I tell you. Filthy! Now you give me one of those cinnamon rolls and if I see one speck of hair on it, I’m callingthe sanitation department.” The irate woman plunked cash onto the counter. When the black cat shifted his head to look at her, the old woman hissed.
Julie bagged up a cinnamon roll and handed it over the counter with a smile. “See you tomorrow, Opal. Take care, sweetie.”
“Not sanitary, I tell you. Not sanitary!” Opal slammed the screen door shut behind her.
“Sorry about that.” Julie wiped her hands on a flowered apron wrapped around her ample waist. “Some people just aren’t cat people,” she said with a shrug. “Are you new to town?”
Edith nodded. “I’m just here for the summer. My name’s Edith. I’m volunteering—”
“At the crisis nursery.” Julie’s face lit up. “Sharon told me about you. Wait right here.” She spun around, disappearing into the back for a minute, before returning with a yellowing waxy-leafed plant. “You mind taking this with you next time you go? I don’t know if I’m overwatering it, underwatering it, or what.” Julie handed it to her over the counter. “Thanks, honey. Really appreciate it. Now...” She wiped her hands on her apron. “Have you decided what you’d like?”
“Just coffee, please,” Edith said, looking down at the plant in her arms. “Black.”
“Why don’t you set it by the door? You can grab it on your way out. Anything else besides a Chester coffee?”
Edith did as Julie suggested, setting the potted plant down, before stepping back to the counter. “I’m sorry. A Chester what?”
Julie winked and pointed toward the cat. “Chester. He’s black.”
“Right,” said Edith. This town was so weird.
“Sure you don’t want anything else? The cinnamon scones are always a hit.”
“No,” Edith said, though the cinnamon scones did smell rather tempting.I really shouldn’t though. Especially since I ate popcorn for supper last night. Although that wasn’t really supper. More like I didn’t have supper. I just had a snack. Missed supper completely. And I certainly didn’t get any butter pecan ice cream. Probably need to make up for lost calories today.
“You okay, honey?” Julie waved her palm back and forth in front of Edith’s face.
“I’m thinking.” Edith blew her bangs from her eyes. “You know what, on second thought—”
“She’ll take the scone,” a deep and slightly winded voice said from behind her, the screen door clasping shut a second later. “We both will.”
Edith whipped her head around.Him.She reached for the counter, needing to steady herself. Especially when she looked into those blue eyes. Oh, dear. Paul Newman. Here. Mr. Hubba-Hubba. She opened her mouth. Nothing. Speechless. Or maybe she just couldn’t breathe. Oxygen. She needed oxygen. And at least two scones.
“And go ahead and add another coffee for me, too,” he said to Julie, though his eyes never left Edith’s. How was it possible he was even more handsome than she remembered? Granted, the last thing she remembered was his face contorted in agony. But still. She should have stayed home this morning. With Henry. Where it was safe.
Say something.A strangled sound made it past her throat. She cleared it and ducked her face into her purse. “Here, letme, ah... uh... oh...” Edith didn’t know what she was saying, other than vowel sounds, as she fumbled for money.
“I’ve got it. It’s the least I can do for the way I acted the other night at the diner. You were only trying to help. I shouldn’t have—”
