Stopping for coffee at Ma and Pop’s Java had been a Monday through Friday morning routine for Hunter Lawton since his wife died. Amy had been with friends enjoying Mardi Gras parades and catching all the beads she possibly could when someone described as a tall, bald man with an unkempt beard and yellow teeth bumped into her, almost pushing her off the sidewalk. He caught her by the arm to stop her from falling and stabbed her in the neck, instantly killing her. Her friends and parade enthusiasts watched in horror as a group of men took chase after the bald man, only to lose him in the crowd, leaving Amy’s death unsolved. Hunter blamed himself every day. If he hadn’t been so tired, he would have gone to the parade with his wife and she would still be with him today.
Just opening the front door of the coffee shop gave Hunter’s sense of smell the burst of coffee and fresh baked pastries that he had become accustomed to over the years. It was a small but prosperous place, owned by Mr. and Mrs. Davidson, a couple who had decided to leave their high stress, overworked jobs in their late forties and open a coffee house. Hunter had developed a taste for his wife’s favorite coffee and was one of his daily routines in an attempt to keep a piece of her alive. Besides his coffee and his job, there wasn’t much else.
Mrs. Davidson’s smile as he walked in said she had been waiting for him all morning. She was more like a mother to him, always giving advice, trying to make sure he was happy, and relentlessly trying to find the perfect woman for him. He wasn’t interested in meeting the perfect woman, but her heart was in the right place.
“Good morning, Agent Lawton,” she said as she handed him his coffee.
He took a sip and she watched with anticipation. “Good as always.”
Satisfied with his happiness, she leaned on the counter for their brief morning chat, leaving her husband to tend to the customers. After five minutes of filling Hunter in on their weekend activities, she began her predictable matchmaking routine, starting with, “And that nice young lady came in over the weekend.”
Hunter wasn’t interested in meeting anybody or getting into any kind of relationship. He had gone on a few dates since Amy’s death, but never had a second date with any of them. He didn’t want to hurt Mrs. Davidson’s feelings, so he spoke in a slightly uninterested tone, hoping she would take the hint. “Oh yeah?”
She tried so hard to pick out the perfect woman for Hunter and apparently believed she had finally found the one. The “nice young lady” had been a regular customer over the past few months, but only on the weekends. He had been repeatedly told she was attractive, obviously worked hard, and, most importantly, was single. Mrs. Davidson gave him that motherly look that said it was time he settled down again.
“She sat in that corner for a few hours working on her computer.” She raised her eyebrows at him to question whether or not he had been listening to her over the weeks of telling him about this nice young lady.
He smiled and tried to find the conversation amusing. “Her name is Tricia. She’s a realtor.”
“One day, your paths will cross.”
“Mrs. Davidson, I would think you, of all people, would agree that if we were meant to cross paths, it would have happened by now.”
Mrs. Davidson let out a humph and crossed her arms. From behind the espresso machine, Mr. Davidson attempted to save Hunter from his wife by giving his playful, “Woman! Let the man get to work. You can worry about his love life later.”
Mrs. Davidson shushed her husband with the wave of her hand. Mr. Davidson shrugged his shoulders at Hunter, apologizing for the failed rescue attempt.
“Ignore him,” Mrs. Davidson remarked.
Hunter chuckled but took this opportunity to step out. Raising his cup to her, he said, “It’s getting busy in here and I really do need to get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Mrs. Davidson came out from behind the counter and gave Hunter a quick hug. “This conversation isn’t over, you know.”
Pulling back from the hug and smiling down at her, his only reply was the obvious. “I know.”
Mrs. Davidson patted him on the shoulder and began to straighten his tie. It was a habit she’d picked up since he started coming in every morning, and Hunter found that he didn’t mind. To him, it was a gesture that she cared about him, and it felt good to have someone who cared, even if it meant putting up with mothering and matchmaking.
Satisfied he was presentable, Mrs. Davidson gave Hunter a quick kiss on the cheek and smiled. “You got yourself a new suit. Looks good on you. Now, you go and catch bad guys. We’ll talk about Tricia later.”