How (Not) to Fall in Love(22)

I stirred sugar into my tea and then followed Liz behind the barista bar, then through shimmering gold curtains to a hidden part of her shop. “Come sit down,” she commanded.

Instead, I stopped with a gasp on the threshold. We had entered Fairyland.

Strings of firefly lights lit the tiny room. Two deep chairs nestled in a corner, a small table between them, overflowing with books and magazines. The scent of incense and the sound of jazz came from somewhere. The walls, painted deep lavender, were covered with vintage French ads and 1980s celebrity posters. The juxtaposition made me smile.

“It’s perfect,” I whispered.

“Thank you,” Liz said. She sat in one of the cozy chairs and gestured for me to take the other. I did, and glimpsed a small closed-circuit monitor mounted unobtrusively in a corner, showing the café and its patrons.

Liz followed my gaze. “Lucas hooked it up for me. Every time a customer walks in the door, there’s a bright blue glow on the screen, then it goes back to normal. I prefer that to that horrible Halloween noise when you open Charlie’s door.”

I laughed. “I can see why. This is great. If I were you, I’d never want to leave.”

“Most days I feel the same way,” Liz agreed. “It’s taken me a long way to get the life I wanted. But I finally made it.” She sipped from her pink cat mug and locked eyes with me. “Your dad might even say I reaped my harvest.”

I flinched. I’d managed to forget about Dad since I’d arrived here. Liz bringing him up felt wrong.

She didn’t miss my reaction. “Your dad’s ideas have helped many people, Darcy. I can’t speak to what he’s doing right now, but there was a dark time in my life when his words were a guiding light. I wouldn’t have this shop if it weren’t for him.”

I stared at her, shocked.

“Oh, I never met him personally. Your uncle Charlie gave me a set of his CDs several years ago. At first I thought Charlie was trying to get me to join a cult.” She laughed and tossed her long braid over her shoulder. “But because I was falling madly in love with Charlie, I agreed to listen to a CD before I’d pass judgment.”

Charlie gave Liz the Harvest CDs? Did Charlie believe my dad’s stuff, too? I thought of all the times I’d heard Dad rag on Charlie’s lifestyle, of how I grew up not knowing my uncle at all. My internal stress ball threatened to explode.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Damn it, I didn’t want to feel angry again. Coming to Liz’s was like finding an oasis in the desert. I didn’t want it muddled up with my dad, and I didn’t want even more reasons to be mad at him. I took a deep breath.

Liz squeezed my knee and I opened my eyes. “Let’s not talk about that,” she said. “We have more important things to discuss, like if you want to do a trial run tonight. We need to see if you can handle my Italian baby out there. Bella is temperamental, beautiful, and a real handful. But she makes the most amazing espressos in town.”

All thoughts of my father fled. A temperamental Italian espresso machine that had probably cost Liz thousands of dollars? “Um…maybe I could just be the tea maker?”

Liz threw back her head and laughed a deep, throaty laugh that came right from her gut. “Oh honey. If you’re the only person working here, what do we tell our coffee customers? No. You’ll learn how to rule Bella. She’s difficult but not impossible.” She grinned. “Kinda like me.”

I took a deep breath and stared at the giraffe painted on my mug. My dad’s words floated to mind, unbidden. “Try one new thing. Plant one new seed.”

“I have to warn you, I’m not mechanically inclined. I can barely make toast.” So much for selling myself.

Liz laughed again and set down her teacup. “Neither was I. When I decided I wanted my own coffee shop, my biggest worry was how the heck to make a cappuccino.”

“Really?”

Her glittering eyes held mine. “Really. I spent weeks visiting coffee shops all over town. I’d order something and sit down and lurk. I watched those baristas work their magic. And I realized something.”

“What?”

“That anyone could do it. Kids younger than you, folks old enough to retire. I watched people who turned out perfect drinks one after the other while barely looking at the machine and serious artists who never took their eyes off the gauges.” Liz reached behind her chair and pulled out a tin of butter cookies. She pried off the lid and held it out to me. “These are my weakness. Especially with tea. Take one.”

I dipped the cookie into my tea while she watched approvingly.

“It’s like dancing,” she said. “Once you know the steps, you bring your own style to it. And the most important thing I learned?”

I waited, paying more attention to her than my cookie. My dad was going to have to pay for my liposuction when he got home.

“Each cup got easier. Each time I messed up a latte, I was that much closer to making a perfect one. You only become an expert at something by failing millions of times along the way. I wanted to master Bella the beast, so I did.” She paused to chew her cookie. “What have you mastered?” she asked suddenly.

“Me?” The question startled me. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? There’s nothing you do well, maybe something you do every day so you don’t even think about it?”