Second Chances in Lavender Bay (The Lavender Bay Chronicles #3)

8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

A s if taking no chances, Debbie parked her car in a vacant spot a block away from the café.

“Be back soon,” she said, and she slammed the door and walked briskly in the direction of Coffee Girl.

In ten minutes, she reappeared in Angie’s line of sight, carrying a takeout cup in each hand. Her bright red hair spilled out from beneath her purple knit hat. Debbie was such a caring and kind individual it surprised Angie that she was single. But like herself, she’d had an early, disastrous marriage, and she didn’t seem to mind her singleness.

As she neared the car, Angie reached over and opened the driver’s-side door.

“Thanks,” Debbie said, handing her the coffees so she could get in.

Angie set the two cups in the cupholders between the front seats.

Debbie went through her routine and then looked over her shoulder before pulling out into traffic.

At the end of town was a gravel parking lot behind a low concrete wall overlooking the beach. You had to sport an annual resident sticker that was obtained from the town hall to park there. Debbie’s bumper was littered with previous years’ stickers. She pulled into the lot and parked right up against the wall.

Once the car was turned off, Debbie turned to her. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Angie said honestly. She knew how important the walk was to her friend. She’d once said it cleared the cobwebs from her mind.

“What will you do? Besides text your employees with instructions?”

Angie glanced at the low wall. “I might sit outside for a bit and think.”

“Very good, then I’ll leave you to it.” Debbie jumped out of the car and opened the back door, pulling out a scarf and gloves. As she wrapped the scarf around her neck, she said, “You know, if your neck is warm, that’s half the battle.”

Angie smiled.

“Do you have a scarf, Ang? The wind is kind of bracing today.”

“No, I didn’t think to bring one.”

“No matter, I’ve got an extra one.” Debbie tossed a knit scarf over the front seat, and Angie caught it.

“Thanks.”

“I won’t be long.”

“Take your time.”

Debbie headed off, hands shoved into the pockets of her winter jacket. Angie dashed off a quick text to Melissa to let her know she wouldn’t be returning for the day. And to prevent a round of texts, she added that she was fine and taking the day off. It almost felt like back in high school, when she and Debbie played hooky. After she sent the first text, she followed it with a second, asking Melissa to feed the cat out back before she left for the night.

Angie wrapped the scarf around her neck and stepped out of the car, coffee in hand. She had no gloves, but the coffee was hot and warmed her hand. Carefully, she swung a leg over the low concrete wall and settled in.

For October, the air was unseasonably cold. Almost like winter. She shivered and took a sip of her coffee.

The lake was turbulent. All gray and green, rushing into the surf with speed and large foamy whitecaps that suggested it had somewhere to be. The roar was thunderous, nearly drowning out the cries of several seagulls who circled overhead. The wind was bracing. Angie looked in the direction Debbie had gone, her friend’s form diminishing as she walked farther away.

Angie looked back to the lake, and her thoughts shifted to the food truck. She could so easily picture it there, parked in the parking lot, the side open, the day sunny and bright. The more she thought about it, the more excited she got about this potential new side venture. And even though they were only awarding five licenses, not only was she hopeful, she was confident. She kept visualizing it, the colors she’d use and what she’d offer. Some people drank coffee no matter how hot it was, and of course there’d be a menu of iced coffees. The thought brought a smile to her face. It was like it was back in the beginning, when she first opened up Coffee Girl. Her coffee cooled down quickly in the cold air, and she downed the rest of it in one gulp. She swung her legs over the wall and walked to the nearest trash can to dump her empty cup.

Shivering, she got back into the car and pulled a notebook and pen out of her purse and started scribbling down ideas about the food truck. She was so engrossed in her task that when Debbie opened the car door, Angie jumped.

Debbie laughed. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” She unwound her scarf and tossed it in the back seat with her gloves. She pulled off her knit hat and tucked it between her seat and the console. Her hair was matted, her cheeks were red, and she was slightly breathless. “Come on, let’s go to my house and we’ll have something to eat,” she suggested.

Debbie lived over on Peach Street. The cluster of streets between Orchard and Vine was known as the fruit belt of Lavender Bay: Apple Court, Berry Street, Grape Avenue, Lemon Lane, Peach Street, and Plum Corner.

She’d lived in this house for fifteen years. What had appealed to her was the larger-than-normal backyard, which was currently ringed with white vinyl fencing. The house had started out as a summer cottage, but rooms and additions had been added over the years, giving it a hodgepodge appearance. But Debbie didn’t care about that, as long as there was enough room for her dogs and cats. She pulled into her driveway. In the front window sat two cats, one a ginger, the other all white.

As they got out of the car, Angie could hear the excited barking of Debbie’s dogs, even though all the doors and windows were closed.

Debbie looked over at her, concerned. “I’ll go in first and let them out back so they don’t knock you over.”

“Sure.”

As Angie waited outside, she heard the back door open and the dogs bound out to the backyard. She was thinking how weird it was not to be at the café, when Debbie opened the door and said, “Okay, the coast is clear.”

She stepped inside Debbie’s house and ended up in the kitchen. Debbie began pulling items out of the refrigerator.

“Toasted bagel with cream cheese okay?” Debbie asked.

“It’s perfect.”

The house was decorated in various shades of gray. There was a faint but pleasant smell of lemon-scented cleaner.

In the living room, old bedsheets covered the sofa and two chairs. Dog beds and cat beds were lined up against one wall.

“I’ve got sesame seed bagels or plain.”

“Sesame seed,” Angie said.

Angie pulled off her jacket and winced, aware of a soreness in her breast. She chose to ignore it and sat down.

As she did, a ginormous cat wearing a diaper walked through the kitchen. Or waddled. Angie blinked and her mouth fell open. “What is that?”

Debbie turned around and smiled. “That’s Po.”

“Po?”

“Mm-hmm,” Debbie said, popping a sliced bagel into the toaster. “Short for Potato.”

“When did you get him?”

“About two weeks ago. He’s a foster. He’s got a few issues.”

“You don’t say,” Angie remarked.

“As you can see, he has a little bit of a weight problem.”

“Yes, that’s obvious.”

“There’s no fat-shaming here, right, Po?” Debbie called after him. The cat meowed once and made his way to one of the empty pet beds in the living room.

“Why the diaper? Is he incontinent?”

“No, he’s not litter-trained.”

“And you willingly took this on?” Angie asked in disbelief.

“Sure. Cyril from Lavender Bay Rescue called me and said no one wanted him.” Angie’s assessment of that was that Cyril knew Debbie had a big, soft heart. “I’ve got to get his weight down, litter train him, and help him socialize with the other animals.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes. And then hopefully, he’ll be able to be put up for adoption. The fact that he isn’t litter-trained is holding him back.”

“I can imagine.”

Debbie carried two plates over to the table and set them down. “Did you want coffee or tea?”

“A glass of water is fine, thanks.”

The dogs were at the sliding door at the back of the house, barking and whining to come in.

Debbie opened the door and the two dogs, Oscar and Bogie, charged inside, their sights firmly fixed on Angie. Angie was used to this.

“Come on, guys, calm down,” Debbie said.

They ignored her. Angie knew if she paid them a little attention and petted them, they’d settle down. They only wanted to be acknowledged. Within a few minutes, they calmed and lay on the floor near the two women. Oscar, who’d been a rescue, snored loudly at Debbie’s feet.

They ate their bagels companionably, talking about nothing and everything. When they were finished, Debbie apologized for not having any sweets in the house.

“I thought if Po has to cut back, it wouldn’t be fair to have a pack of Oreos here.”

“Is Po partial to Oreos?”

“No, but I didn’t want to eat them in front of him.”

Angie had nothing to say to that.

“Did you want to watch a movie? Hang out?” Debbie asked, her expression expectant.

Angie dreaded going home, and watching a movie might be just the thing.

“I’ve had an itching to watch The Maltese Falcon again,” Debbie said, moving on to the living room and popping a DVD into the player, her dogs following her.

“How many times have you seen it?” Angie asked.

Debbie laughed. “Too many to count. It was your grandmother that got me hooked on old black-and-white movies.”

“I know.”

Debbie pulled a sheet off the recliner so Angie could sit down. She folded it up and put it aside. She pulled the living room drapes shut, throwing the room into darkness.

“How’s your family? Your mother?” Angie asked. Even though it was a sore subject, she felt compelled to inquire.

Debbie shrugged. “You know. The same.” Her friend had often said that the only thing she had in common with her family was the last name and that was it.

As soon as Debbie settled on the couch, lying on her side, the dogs jumped up and curled themselves at her feet. Three cats came out of nowhere and jumped up as well, two settling on the back of the sofa and one snuggling up in the crook of Debbie’s knees. Po waddled over and looked at them. He tried to jump up but was too heavy. In one fell swoop, Debbie reached down, lifted him, and placed him in front of her.

In the semi-darkness, Angie glanced over at them. “I’m surprised there’s any room for you over there.”

With all seriousness, Debbie asked, “Did you want one?”

“I’m good. Besides, I don’t want to upset anyone.” The image of the stray cat behind the café came to mind, and she hoped they remembered to feed him.

Debbie pressed the play button on the remote, and the television came to life with orchestral music, shades of black and white, and the opening credits of the movie. As they watched, Angie sent off various texts to her employees until Debbie spoke up.

“If you don’t put your phone down, I’m going to take it away.”

She sounded so stern, which was unlike her, that Angie had to suppress a chuckle.

They ended up watching two movies back-to-back, and it was late afternoon when they finished. Debbie popped up, her hair flattened against the side of her face, and all the dogs and cats stood from their positions. She popped out the second DVD, Leave Her to Heaven , and placed it on the shelf with the hundreds of others.

She peeked out the window and said, “Hmm. It’s already dark outside.”

“Winter’s coming.”

Angie stood from the recliner and stretched. Oscar watched her, wagging his tail. She picked up the folded sheet, shook it out, and placed it over the recliner.

“Did you want to grab some dinner?” Debbie asked.

Angie shook her head. “I’m not hungry, and I think I’ll go home.”

“You must be exhausted.”

“I am, actually,” Angie said. She was surprised at this. She’d relaxed all day as instructed, and she still felt as if she were ready for bed.

“Come on, I’ll let the dogs out before we go, then I’ll drive you home.”

“Take your time.”

Oscar and Bogie ran to the back door, their paws scrabbling furiously on the kitchen floor. The cats on the couch stared at Angie, decided she wasn’t worth any scrutiny, and moved on to other parts of the house.

As Debbie pulled into Angie’s driveway, she asked, “Do you want me to drive you to work tomorrow?”

Angie shook her head. “Not necessary. I’ll be fine. I am fine.”

“When do you find out the biopsy results?”

“In a few days.”

Debbie leaned over and pulled her into a hug. “Okay, I’ll be praying for you. Let me know.”

“Thank you. I need it. And I’ll talk to you later.”

She got out of the car, her housekeys in her hand, and waved her friend off. Although she’d enjoyed her day with Debbie, she was anxious to get back to work in the morning.