“No, I’m fine,” Cal said. “I’ll talk to her later.”
He walked out into the morning air with less pep in his step. He did need to talk to her because he had a big decision to make. A lyric line by The Clash about choosing to stay or go played in his head. The minute he thought the line, his brain provided an instant replay that looped until past lunch.
At four o’clock in the afternoon, Cal returned to the coffee shop.
Lillian took his order and arched one eyebrow as she set his tea on the counter, her non-verbal communicating with such volume Cal felt clairvoyant. “Bryony was here a minute ago but had an emergency errand,” she said. “An errand she remembered after Susie asked if we’d seen you.”
“Is Susie here?” Cal asked, looking behind him, his curiosity aroused. Why would Bryony avoid Susie?
“I think she went to the restroom,” Lillian answered.
“Susie and I planned to meet at four, a school thing,” he said, returning his gaze to Lillian, his own eyebrows raised now, inquisitive.
Lillian slid the tea across the counter. Cal started to reach for his wallet.
“This one’s on me,” Lillian said. “I think we can start considering each other as more than customer and shop owner.”
Cal wrapped his hand around the warm mug and studied Lillian’s face. She continued to look directly at him without flinching, her expression relaxed but strong, telling.
“And does this more-than-customer status,” he asked, “give me the right to probe into the peculiar looks and innuendos regarding relationships between people who have grown up in this town?”
“Yes, it does.” Crescents formed on each side of Lillian’s grin. “Now or later?”
“Quick as you can,” Cal said under his breath. “One line.”
“A tall order,” Lillian said. She took a breath and began to speak.
“Cal!” Susie called from the far side of the seating area. Cal turned to nod at her. “Let’s sit here.” She pointed at a table. “And can you please bring me a cup of whatever you’re having?”
Giving a thumbs up to Susie, he turned back to Lillian.
“Whatever Bryony has, Susie wants,” Lillian said. She pulled a mug off the rack, filled it with hot water, placed it on a saucer with two tea bags, and slid it across the counter. “This one’s on me, too. See you later, Cal.”
He nodded in understanding and turned to carry the two cups to the table.
“Tea?” Susie looked at the mug with distaste. “I prefer something sweet and milky with loads of caffeine, but okay.”
He put the tea in front of her. “So, tell me how you know Bryony.”
“Bryony?” Susie said. “Bryony Green? Oh, we go way back. I think we met when we were in first grade.” She put a tea bag in the water.
“Were you friends?” he asked.
“When we were young,” Susie said. “But then she got kind of weird, and I stopped hanging out with her.”
Gone was the smooth, sophisticated look she’d portrayed when they first met in Cleveland. He was finally meeting the real Susie, the one underneath the makeup, surgical lifts, and orchestrated vocal affect.
“Weird?” He dunked his tea bag.
“You know, she couldn’t keep up. In fact, she hasn’t changed at all since high school. She still looks the same, wears the same kind of clothes, and look where she ended up.” She scoffed. “Working in a coffee shop.”
“Anything else?” Cal asked.
Susie leaned in, conspiratorial, a devious grin on those painted lips. “I was instrumental in steering Chuck toward Charity. I think Bryony saw him as hers.”
“Chuck?” Bryony and Chuck knew each other? She hadn’t said a word. In fact, he remembered her indicating familiarity with his old friend, but nothing more.
“Chuck spent a lot of time with Bryony after he moved here. But when Charity came along, she was so obviously the right match for him, right? I mean, they’re the couple we all wish we were, or had been.”
“Uh huh.” Cal sipped his tea.
“To tell you the truth, I don’t think Bryony ever got over losing Chuck. She dated this one guy for a while, but then he ended up dating me.” Her face made an “oops” expression followed by a cutesy smile. “I mean she’s never been married. As far as I know, she’s single and obviously not trying to attract anyone. It’s kind of tragic.”
“Tragic,” Cal said.
“So, enough about Bryony Green! If you want to expand the program you’re teaching, I think I can help. I’ve written many grants over my career, and one thing I can tell you about money for kids, any way you can tie it to people with disabilities and minorities is a plus.”
“Mm hmm,” Cal sipped his tea.
“I’ll need to use one of your students as the ‘face’ of the program.” She made a frame with her hands and overacted looking out from it.
“Use?” Cal asked.
Her hands fell, and she assumed a more professional tone. “You know what I mean.”
“I think I do,” Cal said. He stood and put on his coat.
