Page 17 of Memories of the Past

I parked my truck and made my way to the front of the small diner. It looked like it had been expanded to take over what once had been the small newspaper office. It also looked like everything had been updated from the last time I’d seen it, back when my mother died.

I opened the door and stepped inside and looked around, remembering when Brooke used to serve Trinity and me breakfast when we were younger. I’d also remembered the crush Brooke had had on me back then and how it had driven quite a rift between her and Trinity. The diner hadn’t changed much on the inside. They’d expanded, added newer tables, and changed the color of the walls, but otherwise, it was exactly how I remembered it. I stepped farther into the bakery, looking for a table, when I heard someone call my name. I turned and looked in the direction of the dessert counter.

“Thomas Jenkins? Is it really you?”

I nodded and smiled at the short blond girl. “Yes, it’s me. How are you, Brooke.”

She looked just like she had all those years ago, only a little older. She grabbed a menu and came around the counter, making her way over to me. She guided me over to a table in the corner and set the menu down.

“So, you’ve finally returned to Willow Valley?” she said, placing one hand on her hip and the other on the back of my chair, waiting for my reply. “Is it permanent or temporary?”

I knew she was probably just searching for gossip. The Crispy Biscuit always was the hub for all town gossip, and I was already sure there was plenty floating around about me as it was. “Not sure just yet,” I replied, opening the menu.

“I see. I heard about your father. I am sorry. I sure will miss seeing his face in here,” she said, glancing around at the other patrons. “He was one of my regulars.” She winked. “Can I get you a coffee?”

“Thank you, and yes, please,” I replied as I read over the menu while she went to grab the pot of coffee. A few new items had been added to the menu, but many of the dishes were still the same as they had been back in my younger years.

“Here you go,” Brooke said, filling the mug. “What will you have this morning?”

“Eggs, sausage, and toast,” I said, closing the menu and taking a sip of the hot coffee.

“Old habits die hard I see.” She winked at me while marking my order down on her notepad. “It will be out in a jiff.”

I smiled. I used to order the exact same breakfast years ago when I’d bring Trinity here. I guess Brooke remembered that. I watched Brooke as she walked away, and then I picked up my mug and took another sip of coffee. The coffee even tasted the same. Willow Valley had changed in many ways, and in others it remained the same small town I remembered.

I grabbed a newspaper from the empty table beside me and began flipping through it, reading the occasional article while I waited for my breakfast, and that was when I spotted my father’s obituary. The words began to blur as I read them over, and I realized how much I wasn’t prepared for tomorrow. In fact, I didn’t want to go to a viewing at all, never mind to a funeral later this week, but then who ever does. With a heavy sadness moving over me, I closed the paper and watched people pass by the bakery while drinking my coffee.

It didn’t take Brooke long before she appeared with a full plate of breakfast and placed it down on the table in front of me. “Here you are, Thomas.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“So, what are you planning on doing with the ranch. There’s rumor that it was left to you. Are you going to start running it again?”

I looked down at my breakfast. “I don’t know just yet.”

“Well, if you are, you’ll have competition. Connor Darling is a hard-working man. You remember him, don’t you?” Brooke asked.

I nodded. “I’m not here to compete with anyone,” I answered. “As a matter of fact, I might just sell the place. It needs much work.”

Brooke nodded in understanding. “Have you had a chance to stop over and see Trinity?” she questioned.

There was the question she’d been dying to ask. I don’t know why it even surprised me; it was always like Brooke to ask questions about us. I nodded, reaching for the ketchup, knowing that in a matter of hours, I would probably be the talk of Willow Valley, if I wasn’t already, and now I’d be dragging Trinity into it as well. “Yep. As a matter of fact, I’m headed over there to do some work around the bookstore for her.”

I could see the curiosity in Brooke’s eyes. “Is that so? I guess old habits really do die hard,” she muttered. “Well, that’s wonderful. I better get moving. Enjoy your breakfast, and welcome back to Willow Valley.”

I frowned as I watched Brooke make her way back to the counter and whisper something to the other girl who stood beside her. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything because there it was. The gossip was starting, and Brooke always did have a knack for starting it.

I dug my fork into my breakfast, ignoring the glances from Brooke and the other woman behind the counter. I’d never been so happy to be finished eating, and I went up right away to pay my bill, ordering a coffee and muffin to-go.

I arrived outside of Bluebird Books a little before nine. The lights were still off in the storefront, and upon quick inspection by peeking through the front window, I could see that Trinity had yet to come down. I glanced at the sign that showed her hours. It told me that she would be open by nine. I placed my hot coffee on the window ledge and went over and removed the ladder from the bed of the truck. I leaned it up against the front of the building and went back over and pulled the large tin of blue paint and the paintbrush I’d purchased yesterday from the back seat of the truck. Then I reached for the sandpaper.

I climbed up the ladder and began sanding away all the flaking paint off the first few letters of the sign, before needing to move the ladder to continue. Once I was finished, I climbed down and cracked the lid of the paint, pouring a little into a plastic container that was easier to hold and climbed back up the ladder and began carefully painting over the words Bluebird Books in brilliant blue. I had only completed the first letter when I heard the front door open, and I looked down to see Trinity.

“What on earth are you doing?” she questioned, irritation lining her voice as she stood looking up at me, her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

“Uh, well, I believe this was the first item on the list that you wrote down for me,” I said, placing the paintbrush down on the top rung of the ladder and pulling the list from my shirt pocket. “Yep, repaint the sign,” I said, shoving the list back into my pocket and picking up the brush, carefully dipping it back into the paint.

I looked back down at Trinity and saw her staring back up at me, her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face.

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