The Boy I Married [hold]

03| Balzac's

Unpacking the rest of my luggage turned out being an adequate therapeutic exercise that shook the remaining bits of nervousness still hanging on me since the flight. Dad's Tv downstairs was loud enough for me to hear it up here which only meant one thing—he was watching hockey.

Decompressing right now was the only thing on my mind. My bed had still felt as comfortable as ever. The sunlight shining from outside was nice. As well as the tranquility of the street outside. California was nice, don't get me wrong. But there was something about the everlasting calmness lingering in the air here that was unmatchable. The wind hollowed deep sorrows that only furthered the fatigue eagerly waiting to snatch me in slumber. A few minutes of rest wasn't too much to ask for? It was.

The tv in the living room quieted and clanks on the wooden floors hastily crescendoed up the stairs. Mom. She raced in my room and before I could say anything, she tackled me in a hug. The comfort of her company eased the tension locking my shoulders. Wow.

Mom dragged me downstairs into the kitchen with her so the both of us could catch up. She convinced dad to finish mowing the grass in the backyard so we could have our own time to catch up with each other.

She looked a little different. Not so different that she'd become unrecognizable, but enough for me to notice the change. Corrugation commenced on the narrow canvas below her hairline. If anything was to blame, mom would say it was stress starting to eat at her. I pretended they weren't there because the acknowledgement would've only made her upset. Her hair had been a tad bit lighter now. It suited her tone a lot better than the color before.

We unpacked the groceries from the farmers market and made small conversation. She talked to me about her arsenal of small odd jobs she had decided to do to pass time. Her favorite was driving people around town to wherever they needed to be. Apparently it made her calm and meeting new people was comforting to her. Mom decided against making dinner tonight and instead scheduled us a reservation for dinner later tonight at a new local restaurant her and dad had come to love.

"So, a pool?" I questioned. Dad was still outside mowing the grass along the cement.

The pool had become a new addition to the house that mom couldn't live without. She said it added "flavor" to the place and give it its final missing piece. I knew it was just something she had been saying now. Her mind remained indecisive. Regardless, she was right about the pool tying the house together. It was beautiful.

"You like it? I begged your dad to install it. Took eleven months to get it up and running but it's lovely," she smiled, before waving that conversation away. "How've you been, Brooke? Where's Justin?"

The excitement in me seemed to slowly dwindle. I gave her a smile and dropped my slowly tensing shoulders again. I couldn't help but feel sad every time someone brought him up and he wasn't around.

"He couldn't make it," I shrugged. "Work."

She nods and walks towards the back door. Her eyes espied dad's movements with the lawn mower. Something seemed off but I couldn't exactly put my finger on it. Telling her about us trying to conceive would have to wait. Again.

»

Canada looked really different. Time had give then a chance to fix the architecture downtown. Even the building that had burned down a few years ago, was back up and running. It was a lot smaller than California, but it was home. Nothing could make me hate this place.

While driving around town, I made it a mission to stop by to all of my usual hang out spaces.. It was my absolute favorite coffee shop in town and nothing else could beat it. Not even the expensive seven dollar coffee I got in California.

When I pulled up, the place had been dull. I knew it was old, but now, you could actually see it's wear. I walked in and even the sound of the door bell was different.

"Can I have a black coffee? Two sugars?"

The man smiled at me and made the coffee while I sat at the bar stool.

"Time definitely didn't stand still in here. What happened?"

"You new here?" He questioned, adding two teaspoon full of sugar. "That'll be 74 cents," he added.

I handed him the change and grabbed my cup of coffee before taking a sip. Still the absolute best I thought to myself.

"No, I used to live here a few years back. This place never looked this way," I said, taking another sip.

"That's because my dad, the owner, passed away about a year ago. Ever since then, no one has been able to keep this place running like he had. This is the last week it'll be up actually. We're going out of business. You'd think cheap, high quality coffee would always be around but I guess overpriced coffee is in now. He'd be so disappointed that I couldn't keep this place going, but I simply can't. Bills are piling up faster than I can pay. It's just time to call it quits," he ends.

I watched as he wipes the already clean counters off before throwing the towel he had onto it. I spent so much time and this place and it was hard knowing things were coming to an end.

"What if I bought it from you? We could still sell your fathers recipe. You and I can keep it up and running. I'd just like to make a few interior changes and maybe a new name if that's okay with you? I could pay you in full today, and give you the extra money needed to pay off the payment debts. It'll be great. We could make the building a bit larger and start selling food. It'd be making money in no time," I said, finishing my cup of coffee. I slid the empty mug towards him and he poured me another, just the way I had asked for it before.

I waited for him to make a decision but he still hadn't said anything yet. I knew he was contemplating the idea because I looked so much younger than him. He was maybe in his mid thirties at most.

"My father would still get credit for his coffee recipe?" He asked.

"Mhm. Maybe we could even get this place popular enough to open more shops around town, hopefully to the states too."

He clicked his teeth together and walked from behind the counter to take a seat next to me in the stool beside me.

"How do you plan on doing all this? Do you even have the money to buy this place? Let alone paying off debt, and changing the design? You know any interior designers and exterior designers?"

"I do, and I'm sure my husband will also help me. This is where we grew up. Well, hung out I should say. I used to sit in that booth over there, and laugh for hours while we hung out here. I wouldn't want to see this place just go out of business. Like I said, I can even have the money for you today. I mean if you decide you want to go along with it. You can make a contract, and we can get it all together and ready for a reinvigorated coffee slash food stop,"

He looked at me a little longer before he had completely surrendered to the idea and I clapped my hands in excitement. "First things first. The contract," he said tapping his nails on the chipped barstool.

"That'll be no problem, we can do that now," I said. He nodded his head and pulled out his phone to begin his half of the contract, and I had done the same.