CHAPTER FIVE
The café became busy, giving Charley little time to ponder. Over the course of the morning, she’d poured coffee, made half a dozen iced coffees, four cappuccinos, and served muffins, scones, and breakfast sandwiches to what appeared to be the whole town. When the rush died down, she sent the dishes through the dishwasher and wiped down the tables.
Hearing the bell on the door, she turned. “Hi, Angela. You missed the rush.” She ran her hand over her forehead, pushing her bangs out of her eyes.
“You’ve caught onto my devious plan.” Her boss mock laughed as she pretended to twirl the ends of her mustache. The damp rag hit her in the face. “Hey! You rat. This isn’t a snowball fight.” She tossed it back at Charley, who easily caught it.
“The white chocolate muffins sold well this morning. I’ll help you with the baking list for tomorrow. You made the sandwiches for lunch last night, so we’re in a good place before the noon rush.”
Charley pulled out the pad of paper and pencil and took notes while Angela walked about the kitchen shouting out items needed. She enjoyed this time of day, the lull before the lunch rush, but also the comradery between her and her boss. She’d come to think of the older woman as an older sister, to rely on her friend since she’d gotten the job at the café.
Charley paused writing and closed her eyes. A deep chill settled over her, freezing her to the bone. Falling into her memories, she unconsciously thrust out her hands to warm them by the burn barrel from the dark alley she’d been living in. The fear of never having enough food or being warm settled in the pit of her stomach. Since running away at fourteen, that last winter on the streets had been the worst. With nowhere to sleep after Boulder closed the women and children’s shelter, she had hitched a ride west and landed in the alley behind the café, burning papers to keep warm, eating leftovers from the dumpster, and fearful to sleep because she had no one to watch over her and keep her safe.
Clang. In her haste to reach her friend, Angela dropped a baking pan on the floor, startling her from her memories.
“Are you alright?” Her friend stared at her.
Charley strode out of the kitchen and into the back office. Taking the rubber band from her hair, she shook her dark blonde locks free. “Yes, I’m fine. Just got caught up in bad memories.” She ran her fingers through her tresses and massaged her scalp. Sometimes the need to feel clean overwhelmed her, forcing her to check and recheck her hair.
“You haven’t had a flashback this severe in a while. Did something happen to trigger it?” Angela placed her hand gently on Charley’s shoulder, her face full of concern. “Was it the pressure of the new responsibilities?”
She shook her head. “There was this guy who came in this morning. About my age. He had short dark hair but kept his baseball cap pulled down during most of our conversation, only taking it off when he ate. Something about his behavior had me wondering if he was homeless, despite what he said.”
“If I hadn’t seen with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed you were either. You hid it well.” The older woman tugged at Charley. “Let’s take a break, sit down and talk about it.” Angela scooped up two muffins and plates then headed out of the kitchen. She strolled to the small white metal dining set near the front window and placed the food on the table then sat down.
Charley brought a couple of iced coffees and both women sat in silence for a moment, savoring the food and drink.
“The guy was clearly starving. He said he’d just arrived by bus and had a job waiting for him but…. Something wasn’t right about him.” She recalled their conversation. “He appeared upbeat and made a lot of corny jokes, more slapstick. However, his gaze seemed haunted.”
“All right. Was there anything else?”
“His two packs were stuffed but looked worn. They weren’t name brand but maybe old military cast-offs. I’m probably imagining things. After all, he did say he’d been in college and had broken up with his girlfriend.” Charley shrugged before diving back into the coffee.
“Could it be the breakup which gave off the vibe he was hurting?” Angela picked at her muffin while slowly rubbing her belly.
“I suppose….” She squeezed Angela’s shoulder. “Are you okay? Here I am sharing silly stuff. Probably nothing to worry about and making you stressed. You’ve hardly eaten a thing. How is the baby?”
“Pea’s the size of an ear of corn, and fine.” Angela beamed. “I’ve been having some tingling and numbness around my wrist and fingers. The doc said it’s because of the fluid retention and perfectly normal. Seriously, I don’t remember all this when I was pregnant with Taylor. With my advanced age…all of 38”—she rolled her eyes—“the obstetrician is more cautious about retaining fluid and any pain. My feet aren’t swollen, but it’s almost time for the gestational diabetes test.”
Charley stared, puzzled. “What does that involve?”
“Nothing big like the blood of a white goat… I have to drink a special liquid, and then they’ll test my blood.”
“Better you than me. I’ll deal with lunch rush alone rather than have blood taken. I pass out.” She popped the last piece of muffin into her mouth. Angela chuckled and stood up. Gathering the plates, she walked toward the back but stopped suddenly.
Crash.
Charley stared at the smashed plates on the floor then stood so fast, she knocked over the chair as she ran to Angela, who stood as still as a marble statue, her palms resting on her belly.
“What happened? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do I need to call the doctor?” She rapid fired questions as she pulled her cell phone from her back pocket. She scrolled through her contacts to find Jake’s number but kept her other grip on her friend’s shoulder.
“Shush. Put your phone away.” The other woman chided. “Give me your hand.” With Charley’s firmly in her own, Angela placed both on top of her small rounded stomach.
“What’s going on?” Charley tried to pull away but she was being held firm.
“Did you feel it?”
She raised one eyebrow and stared at her friend. “Feel what?”
“Wait…there. Did you feel a small flutter?” Angela’s face had taken on a glow. Her eyes opened wide, and she wore that cheesy grin she always had when Taylor did something wonderful.
Charley thought she sensed something but wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel. Then it happened. The baby moved. She couldn’t believe a baby, a miracle, moved under her palm. She’d never experienced anything so wonderful. She stared at Angela’s face. A light shone through her eyes, one of passion, of love. She beamed. “Is it always like that?”
“It will be. And then some. I’m sure little Pea will be moving up a storm in no time. But this was its first movement.”
“I’m so glad you let me share in this with you.” She hugged her friend tight.
Angela stepped back. “Can you pack up some treats and fill the thermos? I think I’m going to head to the ranch to surprise my honey before the lunch rush.”
Charley sprinted into the kitchen. Once she’d gathered all the items, she stuffed them into a fabric bag and stepped out into the dining area.
Angela knelt on the floor, picking up the broken dishes. Charley shoved the sack into her hands then helped her to her feet. “I’ll get this cleaned up. You go and, if you don’t make it back, I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Go surprise your man.” Giving Angela one last shove, she spun around to snatch the broom and dust pan before her friend could see the tears in her eyes. A family, a new baby. Charley had finally gotten lucky after those cold nights on the street.