He chuckled when he recalled being referred to as Todd’s dad. No doubt, Todd’s real father was missing out on a great kid. Cal hoped the man would wake up soon. The boy needed someone to step up for him.
When Cal told Mitch a student had complained about Justin Hicks bullying him, Mitch said, “Not much we can do. Boys will be boys.” Mitch’s response had shocked Cal. He had asked if there was an anti-bullying policy. Mitch answered a phone call, shooing Cal away with his hand, saying, “This is going to take a while.”
Bryony Green’s brother was a piece of work.
But Bryony Green was starting to look more and more like an exquisite example of feminine humanity. Exquisite, but also fairly guarded. Considering the potential fallout from her brother, and the fact that she lived hours south of his homeland, he should stop thinking about her, but he could not.
Just how soon would be too soon to ask her out?
BRYONY’S STUDENT TURNS THE TABLE
Sleep and dreams gave way to imagining the pies Bryony would make for Mitch’s staff. She lay in bed thinking through a list of ingredients and formulating a schedule to make room for purchasing fresh products, while leaving time for serenity in the kitchen. When her mental pad indicated completion of the planning process, she showered, dressed, and readied herself for the work day.
A pink glow lit up the eastern horizon. Bryony sipped the last of her tea and set the cup in the sink. She should take advantage of these mornings, when the cooling air whispered the arrival of bitter winds in a month or so. She shrugged her shoulders into a light jacket. She had just enough time to walk to work.
Stepping carefully down the steps from her side door, she tested her leg as she did every morning. So far, last Thursday’s fall had produced only a large bruise, but no lasting effect. All muscles and bones seemed to be in good working order. She set off at a brisk pace.
What a hopeful time to be outside. The air smelled crisp and clean. Streetlights shone on leaves still green, but dull now, awaiting their autumn palette. Bryony loved fall and its evocation of new-school-supply memories, every year a fresh start.
Arriving at the coffee shop a few minutes early, she found Todd waiting beside the front door.
“Good morning, Miss Green,” he said.
“Good morning!” Bryony did a double take and clapped. “Wow! You look stunning.” The young man wore a black jacket over a crisp T-shirt with tight black pants and leather boots rising to mid calf.
Todd blushed.
“You look like a pop star! And I love your new haircut.”
“I cut it myself,” he said.
Bryony inspected his face. “Do I see a bit of black eyeliner?”
“I tried to be subtle. Mom asked me at breakfast if I was getting enough sleep.”
How could anyone mistake eyeliner for dark circles? “Your mom doesn’t wear makeup, does she?” Bryony asked.
“No,” Todd said. “Not even on special occasions.”
Her own mother had worn little makeup throughout her life, but Bryony could think of few women who never added a dab of color here or there. She used a bit of concealer every day. If women did, why not men? “You look fantastic. Lillian will love it.”
“I was afraid it wasn’t professional enough.”
“It’s perfect for the coffee shop.”
“Mister Forster helped me pick out the clothes.”
“He did?” she asked.
Cal had been in the coffee shop several times since their mutual mud bath, but he and Bryony had interacted very little, she being too busy with work tasks, he chatting with whoever waited in line with him or sat at the table beside him. She’d rarely met a more friendly, social person. Come to think of it, she’d never met anyone as engaging as Cal Forster.
Together, she and Todd turned on lights, prepped sandwiches, set up the coffee, and placed napkins on every table.
As they finished the usual start up tasks, Todd turned to her and said, “My brother’s in prison. He broke into the restaurant he worked at to steal money and accidentally started a fire. A firefighter was killed when he fell through the roof while trying to put out the fire.”
The sentences had come out one on top of the other, a scramble of imagined action evoked by the telling of his story. “I’m so sorry,” Bryony said, unsure if that was an adequate response.
“I wanted you to know. Mister Forster encouraged me to not keep it a secret, to tell people I can trust, and I think I can trust you.”
“Thank you, Todd.” Bryony gently laid her hand on Todd’s arm. “Your trust is a gift to me.”
Lillian arrived, dropping her purse on the counter. “What did I miss?” She gave Bryony a sideways hug and hit the start button on the coffee makers.
“Nothing,” Bryony answered.
Todd mouthed, “Thank you,” from behind Lillian’s back.
Lillian, too, praised Todd for his new look. He tried to brush off the compliment, but Bryony could see the delight in his face.
This boy had a future, no matter what Mitch said, and Mitch had said plenty on a phone call the night before. Watch your back, Bryony. He can’t cut school work. And there have been family troubles, really serious troubles. Don’t let your guard down.
Lillian would have scolded him, saying something like, Everything came too easy for you, Mitch, but Bryony had remained silent, unwilling to challenge the big brother who coached her to excel only to belittle her when she tried. He demonstrated no empathy for his own sister. Why would she expect anything different from him when it came to boys like Todd?
The morning rush commenced and ended like clockwork. Cal, as usual, made his daily witty remarks, added a compliment about Bryony’s smile, stayed a bit longer than usual, and gave his customary wave goodbye before he walked out the door.
Todd stayed longer than usual, too. He said a teacher’s meeting had pre-empted classes for the day. Midmorning, he and Bryony sat together at a table near the counter, taste testing a new line of teas Lillian wanted to offer.
“This one hurts my stomach,” Bryony said. “Too spicy.”
“Try this one.” Todd pushed a small cup across the table.
Bryony sipped. “Lemony, I like it.” She sipped again.
“Have you ever talked to Mister Parker over there?” Todd asked. “He’s like the smartest guy I ever met. I sat with him one day last week. We talked about an assignment I have for U.S. Government. He could reel off dates and names and tell stories without using his smart phone!”
“I’m impressed.” Bryony had never had a conversation with Mister Parker lasting longer than the time it took to fill his order or refill his cup. Todd’s attention to the retired gentleman further validated her perception about the boy’s character.
They made their way through the other flavors, debating the qualities of this line of tea products versus the line they were already selling. Bryony wanted to revisit Todd’s morning pronouncement, but didn’t want to push. She would wait for him to bring up the topic again. In the meantime, she fell into asking the same question she was asked too many times as a senior in high school. “What do you want to do when you graduate?”
“I have no idea,” Todd said. “Maybe college, something with computers, or something in the food business. I like working here. I do not want to be a firefighter.”
She knew he must be referring to the brief confession from earlier in the day, but when he failed to say more about that, she asked, “What do you like about working here?”
“The people mainly,” Todd answered. “Being forced to be friendly at seven a.m. changes the rest of my day. I’ve made a few new friends at school because I started treating my classmates like customers, you know, smiling first and asking them about their days.”
Bryony smiled. “A great life lesson.” And one she, too, had learned from working at BeanHereNow. Small talk came easier to her these days, as well as initiating a greeting when passing someone on the sidewalk, or at least offering a smile.
