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

49. Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Six

D ays before Christmas, Angie sat in her office, sipping a smoothie Tom had brought her—“to keep your strength up,” he’d said—and going through the ballot box to name the cat. She had a chemo treatment the following day and she didn’t know what shape she’d be in afterward to do this. So she’d cleared her desk and began to lay the ballots out, stacking those suggestions that were repeats, like “Coffee,” “Mocha,” “Coco,” and a few others. It wasn’t long before the top of her desk was covered with ballots.

In the end, it came down to two names she thought were cute, but she couldn’t decide. She called Debbie, who picked up right away.

“Everything all right?” Debbie asked.

“Yes, I’m going through the ballot box, and I’ve narrowed it down to two names for the cat.”

“What’ve you got?”

“Mr. Beans and Louie. I can’t decide.”

Without missing a beat, Debbie said, “Mr. Beans. He doesn’t look like a Louie.”

“Thanks, Deb. Talk to you later.”

Angie stuck her head out the back door, spotted the cat, and said, “Your new name is Mr. Beans. Merry Christmas.”

She closed the door against the icy air and called the phone number on the back of the ballot. No names were recorded on the ballots in the interest of no favoritism. Only cell phone numbers were provided. A woman’s voice answered.

“Hi, it’s Angie from Coffee Girl.”

“Is this about the cat contest?” the woman said excitedly.

“It is. You’ve won. His new name is Mr. Beans.”

“Wonderful.” The woman identified herself as Kay Bright, director of the Lavender Bay Historical Society.

“Next time you come in, your twenty-five-dollar gift card will be waiting for you at the counter.”

“Thanks!”

To celebrate, Melissa took a proper photo of Mr. Beans, who was looking well after putting some weight on. She had it printed and framed, and it hung on the wall in the café. A small engraved plaque was hung directly below it: Employee of the Year .

Christmas Day ended up being a bust. Angie was so sick after her chemo treatment that she spent the holiday at home in her nightgown and robe, beneath a crocheted blanket a customer had made for her, lying on the sofa while the rest of her family made their way over to Aunt Gail’s house. Her phone had been ringing off the hook all morning with calls from her family and Tom, who all promised to stop over at different times of the day.

In the early afternoon, Debbie arrived with an armful of DVDs and a grocery bag.

“What are you doing here?” Angie asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

“And Merry Christmas to you too,” Debbie said. “I thought I’d keep you company.”

“Deb, that isn’t necessary. What about your own family?”

Debbie rolled her eyes. “I stopped by my mother’s to bring her her gift, and she was fighting with my brother. On Christmas Day! I don’t need that. So, you’re stuck with me.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” Angie retorted and pointed to the bucket parked at her end of the sofa.

“No problem. I’ve brought ice cream: vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate mint. And Jell-O.”

“Perfect.” With a nod toward the DVDs, she asked, “What are our choices?”

Debbie went through the stack. “ Christmas Vacation , It’s a Wonderful Life , A Christmas Story , Going My Way , and Die Hard. ”

“Sounds good. Pick one and let’s get started.” She readjusted the blanket and got comfortable, happy to let Deb take care of everything.

The week after Christmas, Angie felt better enough that she went into work for half days. It was a bright, sunny day outside. The air was crisp, and the sky was blue. Two feet of snow covered the town of Lavender Bay.

She made her way around the café, wearing a mask as she was apt to when in public, on the advice of the nurse. She went from table to table, talking to customers and asking how their holidays had been. Everyone was in a good mood. The week between Christmas and New Year’s was always a happy, relaxed time. She was still laughing at Java Joe’s sandwich board. It read: Coffee Girl, Bah Humbug! To which she’d written on her own curbside board, Java Joe, the Grinch of LB .

Debbie had taken Mr. Beans to her house to litter-train him and would keep him there until Angie was finished with her chemotherapy. As Angie wound her way through the tables, proudly wearing one of Grammie’s vintage Christmas scarves, she spotted Lisa, the young mother from her support group.

She broke into a wide smile. “Lisa! It’s wonderful to see you.” Similarly masked, Lisa stood and hugged Angie. She introduced her to her husband and her two daughters, who both strongly resembled their mother with their heart-shaped faces and bright green eyes. Cups of coffee, hot chocolate, pastry hearts, and cinnamon rolls sat on the table in front of them.

“We were worried about you, we missed you at group,” Angie said.

Lisa smiled. “Had a little setback. Got out of the hospital just before Christmas.”

Angie looked at Lisa’s daughters, glad their mother had made it home for Christmas. They were so young.

“How are you feeling now?” Angie asked.

“Much better.”

“Will you come back to group?”

Lisa nodded. “Probably next week. I want to spend this week with my girls.”

“The Floyd and Nena show is still in full swing,” Angie told her.

Lisa burst out laughing. Angie noted how much better she looked since she’d last seen her. Not wanting to intrude on their family time, she wished Lisa well and told her she’d see her next week.