By the time my fury abated, I was already on route to my favorite coffee shop. The car almost seemed to have driven itself, guiding me toward the center of town. I eased my grip on the steering wheel and took a deep breath.

Now, I’m not someone who is quick to anger. In fact, it usually takes quite a bit to set me off. But Lauren just had this way of getting under my skin. Every time I saw her sitting in front of the TV, I wanted to scream. When I was down and out, I’d been forced to fend for myself. There had been no one to support me.

To my surprise, when I reached the coffee shop, there was a space waiting for me just outside the door. I eyed it with zeal as I crept forward through the traffic.

But just before I could reach it, the car in front of me turned on its blinker. I watched in dismay as they did a horrible job of parallel parking.

Just my luck. Ever since I could remember, I’ve been plagued by bad luck. Maybe I was born on the same day my mother broke a dozen mirrors or something. I wasn’t sure, but I knew that life always had a way of giving me the finger.

I sighed and drove past the elderly couple emerging from the car. Maybe it was for the best.

With no other option, I rounded the block, but the town was congested and packed with people. It was a Friday evening, after all. Most people would be getting out of work and enjoying drinks with their friends. My only friend was still on his honeymoon.

God, when did I become such a loner?

Finally, I squeezed into a tight space on a rough-looking road. I pushed in the mirror, despite the fact that it would probably be broken by the time I got back, regardless of whether I took this precaution or not. With my hands in my pockets, I started for the coffee shop.

All around me, people looked happy and carefree. Couples held hands as they laughed at each other’s jokes. Men walked with a pep in their step. Women swayed their hips. I seemed to be the only one with a dark storm cloud hanging overhead.

When I walked into the coffee shop, my spirits lifted. The familiar smell of coffee beans was one I welcomed. Their fall specials filled the air with spices that made breathing crisp and satisfying. As always, I walked up to the counter without looking at the menu. I never deviated from my regular order.

“May I help you?” a young barista asked. She was new. Her nametag still held a certain level of shininess to it, whereas others had faded and worn away.

“Yeah, I’ll get a Red Eye and an apple turnover.”

She looked at her tablet, scanning through the options. “Um…” she mumbled to herself.

Before she could worry herself into a fit, my favorite barista, Alexis, came to the rescue. She was a tiny girl who always had an abundance of energy, even though I had never seen her drink a sip of coffee. She wasn’t wearing her usual uniform but instead sported some tight-fitting jeans and a graphic tee I didn’t quite understand. Still, the bright colors were rather appealing, and they matched her personality quite nicely.

“Mr. Farmer.” She nodded in recognition. “A Red Eye is just our regular coffee with a shot of espresso. So just punch in a regular coffee and then add the espresso as an extra.”

The new girl nodded in understanding. “That’ll be $6.57.”

As I fished out my wallet, Alexis was already making my drink, even though it was obvious that she wasn’t on the clock. By the time I got my change back, she placed it on the counter with a satisfied smirk on her face. A second later, she thrust my apple turnover into my hand.

“Thanks.” I was about to leave when I turned toward her. “Do you mind having some coffee with me?”

Alexis smiled. “Sure.”

We snagged a table toward the back where it was quieter. Alexis had made herself a decaf chai latte, which she cradled in her hands like it was her most prized possession.

“I don’t know how you manage to be so energetic when you don’t drink caffeine,” I remarked. “I personally feel like a zombie until I’ve had my morning cup.”

She shrugged. “I’ve never really felt a need for it.”

“I envy you.”

She chuckled. “So what’s the matter?” she asked, picking up that something was wrong.

I thought about telling her, but I hesitated. I felt weird admitting that there was a pregnant woman living in my home. I felt even weirder admitting that the child was mine – a product of a desperate decision ten years ago. I had yet to completely accept that my actions were coming back to haunt me. I was trying to take a distanced approach, but deep down, I knew that once the baby was born, I wouldn’t be able to let go. My paternal instincts would kick in, just like they had with Gina. But how was I supposed to raise a child when I couldn’t stand its mother?

Alexis patiently waited for me to answer.

“Nothing. I think I just needed someone to talk to.”

“Just lonely, huh? I hope this isn’t your attempt to flirt with me because I’m sorry to say this, but I have a girlfriend.”

“Oh.” The word slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“Surprised?”

“A bit.”

She shrugged. “Looks can be deceiving. That’s why I never judge someone before I truly get to know who they are.”

Her words sat heavy in my mind.

She was right.

From that point forward, it was easier to talk to her. It was like her piece of advice had lifted a weight from my shoulders.

By the time I left the café, I felt better about my situation and actually headed home with a sense of hopefulness. Maybe if I just sat down with Lauren and had a genuine conversation with her, I could learn more about her.

With this thought in mind, I jumped into my car, glad to find that the mirror was still intact. Perhaps I wasn’t all bad luck after all.

But I’d spoken too soon.

My phone rang in my pocket. I grabbed it to see Cruz’s name on the screen. That was weird. He’d said he didn’t want anyone to disturb him while he was on his honeymoon.

“Hello?”

“Dean Moss has been released from jail.”