Walking over, I pick up the phone from where I placed it well before the sun came up and glance at the screen, confirming the text is, in fact, from Ella.
Ella: Greetings, my bestest friend. All is well here. Sold out of the chocolate chunk muffins right away this morning, but we still have a lot of the other flavors. People keep asking for them, so I had to take the featured item off the wall menu. Wanted to let you know, I think it’s rain and things are slower than normal. Don’t rush in. No need to save us from any fires just yet. Go run some of your errands or something after you drop bean off at school.
Me: Another reason to hate rain—it’s bad for business.
Ella: I wouldn’t say it’s bad for business, per se. The lull gives me time to catch up on the tasks we don’t always have time for during big rushes. We’re prepping, stocking, and cleaning when we aren’t helping customers.
Ella: Do you have any idea how many slaughtered trees we had in this shop just from all the old newspapers left behind? I was momentarily overwhelmed with guilt watching one of the guys pile that stack in the recycling canister.
Me: I’m certain the recycling center is very happy that we have so many murdered trees. I don’t think the old newspapers left behind are supposed to be the biggest impact on your morning and overwhelm you with guilt. Instead, my precious friend should count her lucky stars and relax while you can for once. Maybe ask one of the baristas to make you a super complicated drink to test their skills and keep them on their toes. Then relax with an old paper while you can and enjoy your beverage. ;) See you in about 30.
Ella: See! Another reason you’re such a rock star. Now I need to think of a tricky order so I can try to throw them off. You know… For training purposes, not to be mean. I guess it’s kind of mean, but justifiable since it’s with good intentions to help them grow and learn and all. Right?!
Me: Insane. You. Are.
I toss my phone in my handbag and glance over my shoulder at Riley.
“Okay, little bean. Let’s shake a tail feather, okay? It’s a short day at school, so let’s get going so I can get back to you. Maybe we can go see Frozen 2 again and avoid the rain?”
Riley screams, shoving the last bite in, and just like that, my girl is ready to take on the day with a burst of energy I wish she would share.
Oh, to be young and blissful again.
“The Bones” by Maren Morris
Olde Mug by Bean & Co. never fails to give me a massive rush of pride every time I’m walking up Newbury Street and see it in the distance. Each step brings me closer to the little dream I always imagined but never had the courage to break away from the family expectations to build.
Sadly, it took losing my sister for me to take that step. I needed a purpose other than the one drilled into us. The high-society bullshit was never my thing. I played the part and did what was expected of me, but when our parents died, it was just motions of what I had been conditioned to keep up with.
My life had no color.
I’ll never forget the day I bought the building, which had once housed the Cole Haan store. It took an exorbitant amount of money to buy the building from the retail giant to build my coffee shop. The previous owners had been fighting the Historical Society for the changes they wanted to the outside, and it just was my lucky day that I gave them the out they had been looking for. They just moved their store farther down Newbury and knocked out three retail units to give them what they wanted in the end. What their new place isn’t, though, is the gem of Olde Mug.
It took me longer to talk the sweet old man who owned the unit behind the space to let me buy that as well, giving me not just the shop but also the ability to renovate and add a kitchen and living quarters that took up the whole back end and top level of both.
Ella has been living above the shop for two years now as part of the perks of being manager and working such long hours. It also helps so that I can be with Riley.
I wait for a car to pass so I can cross the street, taking me one block closer to Olde Mug. I can see the dove-gray awnings over the outer windows from my vantage point, the glint of the sun shining off the glass intricately designed as a belt, so to speak, wrapping around the whole building between the levels. One more “belt” of copper and then more windows. It was the first thing that made me know it was where I needed Olde Mug—that natural light was a must. But it was the roof that made me crave. I would have paid millions more just to have this building. There’s no other way to describe my pride and joy other than looking like a castle. Two high peaked Victorian-style turrets on either side of the roof, pieced together by some of the finest craftsmanship I’ve ever seen in a gable. Every time I see it, I feel transferred back to the little girl who grew up wishing her prince would steal her away from my life and into one of pure happiness. Which is exactly what I get every time I walk in the door.
Now nothing about my world is colorless.
Between the shop and Riley, the only thing that would make it better would be having my sister back. Unless you ask Ella, and then she’d tell you what I was missing was a man.
With a laugh, I wrap my hand around the iron pull on the door and step into heaven. The first thing that assaults me is the scent. Nothing on this earth is better than the smell of ground and roasted coffee beans. The sweet scent of different foods intermingling make it almost too euphoric.
I step around the eclectic mixture of couches and chairs I hunted down to fill the vast floor area, each carefully placed to break the room into different seating areas. A variety of tables are sprinkled between. A large area serves as a workspace for those who prefer to relax while working as well as ones that take up a decent chunk of the room on each side, just to the side of the front windows. My eyes flit up, and I smile at the three chandeliers above me. So classy, my coffee heaven castle.
“You’re late!” someone bellows from farther back in the room, where the bar of coffee machines and food display counters are.
I shake my head and glance over at our large clock, complete with coffee mugs as number placeholders, and roll my eyes.
“I’m ten minutes early, just like I always am,” I call back to Ella.
“Morning, Olivia. Lovely morning, isn’t it?” someone says from my side.
When I see who spoke, I can’t help the smile that grows.
“Well, good morning, Mr. W! It’s a wet one, that’s for sure. How are you feeling today? I missed you here last week, but I heard someone wasn’t being a good boy about taking his medication.”
My favorite customer just laughs, his weathered voice heavy with age and the pneumonia his caregiver, Grace, had told me he had last week.
“That nosy little girl doesn’t know what she’s talking about. You know she isn’t even a doctor!”
I pat him on the shoulder. “She’s qualified enough to know when you need your medication, you stubborn man.”
“In my day, you just took a few shots of Jameson to get rid of a little cough.”
“Well, in my day, you still do the same, only you make me hide it here so Grace doesn’t know you’re being a bad boy.”
He grumbles under his breath, but smiles nonetheless.
“You doing okay? How about the wee one?”
“We’re doing just fine. She’s just as energetic and opinionated as ever. Reminds me of someone I know,” I respond with a wink.