The Magnolia Café

Chapter 4

It's Saturday night, and I might be out of my mind. I'm standing right in front of the Magnolia waiting for the right moment to walk in. I decided to accept Connor's offer. I don't have any other job prospects. At the moment, I don't even have any life prospects. To be honest, I don't even know what the hell I'm doing. I just moved to the countryside without planning a single thing. I just knew how much money I had in the bank and that I needed to get away, otherwise I would've probably been found dead glued to the couch, surrounded by snotty tissues soaked in tears.

Besides, learning a new trade is always a good thing and I need to keep my mind busy, or I might start spiralling down again. A couple of weeks ago, I barely left my house. I can't let myself fall back into that lethargic state.

"I accept," I say as I sit down on a stool.

"So, don't sit down. You can start now," he says with one of his smiles. Dammit! Who has smile like this?

"Now?" I open my eyes wide as I look at him. My eyeballs almost pop out of my eye sockets.

"Yes. The sooner you start learning, the better." He grins.

"But this place is full. Not a good time to learn. Nor to make mistakes."

"You have to see the bright side. It just means that you'll have plenty opportunities to learn."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. Come on over to this side."

As startled as I am with this unexpected turn of events, I get up from my sit and join Connor on the other side of the counter. He gives a quick tour of the place, where's the pantry, the kitchen, and the staff room. The Magnolia is closed on Tuesdays. I can schedule my other breaks. We open at ten a.m. and usually close around six p.m., unless there's an event like today and the rest Connor says I'll learn on the job.

"This is Carla, our chef. Carla, our new employee Isabella."

"Nice to meet you." She smiles tenderly.

Carla just looks like the most huggable person in the world. There's this friendly and trustworthy aura around her. She just seems like such a loving person. The type of person who wins you over with just a smile. Her skin is light brown, her dark hair is tied in a long braid, she's probably in her early forties and looks beautiful.

"Likewise." I come off a lot stiffer than what I intended to.

"There's no need to be so formal, hon." Carla chuckles. "Are you averse to washing dishes?"

"Not at all."

"Great. Then maybe you could start by lending me a hand here."

"Sure."

My first work night ends up way past closing hour. I'm tired, my lower back is sore, and I can't feel my feet. I let myself fall into a chair while Connor finishes up the rest of the cleaning.

"How do you manage to handle this on your own?"

"I promise you that usually this isn't as hectic as it was today. My sister also helps around here. But she has a one-year-old and they are still getting adjusted to their life with a baby. And Carla also has her sons and wife at home, so she rarely closes up with me."

Connor disappears inside the kitchen for a few moments and returns with two mugs of steaming hot cocoa with tiny marshmallows on top, sprinkled cinnamon, and it smells delicious. Chocolaty paradise... What is it about chocolate that is so satisfying and comforting?

"Oh wow. This is really good."

"Carla's recipe. You can thank her tomorrow."

"I will," I say, sipping another mouthful of paradise. As we enjoy our warm drinks, Connor keeps staring at me. "Why are you staring?"

"I'm not staring." He scratches his forehead and looks at the marshmallows drowning.

"You are."

"No, I'm not." He eats a marshmallow.

"You are. For a while now."

"I'm sorry." He blushes and looks down at his mug. I smile. Apparently, he gets flustered a lot despite his outgoing demeanour and lumberjack appearance.

"What do you want to ask?"

"Is it that obvious?" He flushes.

"Yes!"

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-six. You?"

"Twenty-eight."

"That's a little rude, don't you think? You just wanted to know my age?"

"No. I just don't get why someone like you is doing here."

"Someone like me?"

"A twenty-six-year-old, that had a good job at a big construction company, lived in a big city, someone that clearly only has shoes adequate for office jobs—"

I feel my blood boil. Little perfect Isabella with the perfect life. That's how it has always been. How I've always been perceived. It couldn't be further away from the truth. No one truly ever knows what it's going on in someone else's mind or what someone is going through. It's not fair to assume anything.

"Don't talk about what you don't know."

"You told me this yourself."

"I only had that job because my father is friends with someone that works there. I didn't get it out of my own merit."

"Don't belittle yourself. I'm sure that you had some merit of your own."

"I'm not belittling myself. I'm stating a fact. I've never done anything entirely on my own. I got the job because of father. My parents bought me the apartment where I lived with my fiancé—"

"Fiancé?"

"Ex-fiancé. We separated a few months ago. He—"

I look at the bottom of the mug as if he was going to be there. I can almost see his face reflected on the surface of the hot chocolate. His face still haunts me. I still can feel his presence around me. My wounds are still open and sometimes I feel him poke them. How can someone that isn't in my life anymore still hurt me this much?

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." Connor scratches the back of his neck and looks at me with regret in his eyes.

"It's fine. He just left. Disappeared into thin air one day without a proper explanation. Said goodbye with a simple note. Not even a letter or a message or an email. Just a shitty piece of paper with a single line." I laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"This. You. I'm sharing my life with someone I just met. If you knew me, you'd know this is extremely out of character for me. It's not something I do. I don't even share my thoughts with those closest to me, let alone with strangers."

"The country air is doing you some good."

"Maybe you're right. There might actually be something here."

"I think you'll enjoy your stay here more than what you expect."

I shrug. "We'll see. But anyway, what were you saying earlier about my shoes?"

Connor chuckles and, yet again, he blushes. "You paid attention to that?" He asks and I nod. "You'll need to get some shoes that are more comfortable than those, otherwise will leave in pain every day. And you should also get warmer clothes. Fall and winter are extremely cold around here."

"Fine." I sigh. "I'll do that."

"Come on, let's go. You need to be here early tomorrow. I'll walk you home." He smirks.

"Right... Because it's so far away." I grin. "You don't need to."

"I insist."

Connor walks me outside and waits for me to go up the stairs. He doesn't seem so bad. As we wave goodbye, I can't help but to feel less lost and alone. Maybe this move wasn't such a bad idea after all. In the short week that has passed, everyone has been so welcoming. It's starting to feel like this place could actually become my new home. My first ever home.