If At First

Part 10 - Chapter 9

"Macchiato please," I said to the tip jar resting next to a register.

"Hey, stranger!" a pleased voice called over the tall end of the counter. I looked up. Doug was my barista.

"Doug? –Hi." My voice was surprised, but I hoped he mistook it.

"What's going on? I haven't seen you in weeks! I called, but maybe you didn't get the message."

"You work here?" I don't know why it was so unexpected that someone I knew might actually be employed in this town.

"Yeah, this was how I met Haven a few years back – he comes in all the time. Lets me tag along to his swanky parties and stuff."

"I thought you said you came here and stayed with his family."

"I do. I'm putting myself through school, and after Haven and I became friends he offered to let me stay up at the Lodge while I worked so I could save money. I mean, you know how it is..." He paused thoughtfully, "Well, maybe you don't."

"No, I do. But, he offered to let his barista live in his house?"

"Weird, right? He does a really good job of hiding what a great guy he is, but the people who know him well are never surprised. I keep insisting on paying some sort of rent, and at one time I was actually doing it, but I found out he was putting the money back into my account."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I go to school in North Carolina, but I come back here in summer. The tips are pretty good, and you can't beat free rent."

"Huh," was all I managed. That was unexpected.

"Here's your coffee. Ya wanna go out again sometime?"

The girl behind the counter standing next to him jerked to attention, staring. Her dazed eyes went from Doug to me.

I smirked. "You say 'again', like it's happened before." He rolled his eyes.

"Fine, not 'again'. For the first time. And I know the rules now, I'll keep my hands to myself." The girl behind the counter stared straight ahead, clearly listening for my answer.

"I don't think so, Doug. I've been pretty busy lately. You might consider someone a little more...local." I turned to leave, but before I did, I saw the girl's cheeks turn red as she watched me go.

"Right. Later,"

I meandered back to the house in complete abstraction. I don't remember the walk at all, except that by the end of it, I found myself once again inflicting my presence on my grandmother. I was determined to come clean with her before dinner tonight. The suspense of being found out was agony, but part of me was afraid that her reaction, instead of counseling me on how to escape it, would encourage me to continue as though it were true. Then the honest part of me knew it wasn't fair to her, after all the generosity she had shown, to perpetuate a false persona under her roof.

Nana stood on a small stool, watering the beloved plants Beverley was prohibited from touching. When she heard me enter, she turned to stare with a probing eye. "Did you get my message?"

"About dinner?" It's only been ingrained in my brain since you agreed to it! "Yes. I remembered."

"Good." She paused, examining me slowly from head to foot, and I was immediately self-conscious. "Is that what you're wearing?"

"Um, -No?" I supposed khaki shorts and a button down shirt weren't going to cut it, then.

"Good." She repeated and returned to her plants. Obviously I wasn't planning on wearing this to The Lodge, but faced with this newest reproach, the courage with which I initially entered was crushed. "I confess, Tabitha, my design in bringing you to Townsend was mostly to assist in...improving the company you keep." She sighed and glanced over her shoulder to see that I understood. "I never could get your stubborn mother to listen to me, but if your father is good for anything maybe he instilled some common sense in you. And I won't lie when I say that this dinner is no small gesture. Being invited to the Lodge by a Casey is like being invited to Buckingham Palace by the Queen of England."