by Ciara Knight
Without giving him a chance to answer, she hopped into her car and tore out of there. The entire way back, she felt the whiplash of emotions. She’d gone out there to ask for a favor she’d hoped he’d refuse, only to order him to do it anyway. What was she doing?
When she reached the coffee shop, she discovered Carissa and Felicia loitering outside, pretending to walk the town square. “What’s going on?”
“We heard,” Carissa stood on the curb and looked down at Mary-Beth with sympathetic eyes.
Felicia snagged her in a friend embrace and ushered her into the coffeehouse, as if heat lightning would strike them both on this cloudless fall day. “Tell us what happened. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” Mary-Beth collapsed into a chair and eyed her muddy shoes. “One minute I’m convincing myself that I have no choice but to go ask Tanner to coach high school football so that Andy can get a college scholarship but planning on convincing him it’s a stupid idea, but then I find myself begging him to do what I don’t want him to do. And then I convince him by offering to work side-by-side in the fields with the man who still churns up old feelings, turns me around like a fair ride, and spits me back out to clean up the mess. What am I doing?”
Carissa eased into the chair at her side. “You’re working through a lot of feelings you ignored for many years. It’s not going to be easy, but I’m glad.”
Mary-Beth found herself twisting her bangles so hard she caused her arms to turn red. “What? Why would my torment make you happy?”
Felicia settled in at her other side. “Because, hon, you’ve never moved on, and we want you to feel what we feel in our lives. That magical person who makes the world brighter, happier, and more fun. You’ll never have that as long as you cling to those old feelings you had for Tanner. Now you can work past them.”
For the first time in her life, the smell of coffee churned her stomach. “I can’t even make a cup of coffee he likes.”
“What?” Carissa asked with a hint of confusion.
“Nothing. Never mind. It’s not important.”
Felicia slid a hand onto her arm. “The Coffee Whisperer finally met her match. No surprise. You have no idea who he is today.”
“Did you offer to work with him to get to know him better?” Carissa asked in the softest, barely audible voice.
The room fell silent—not even a car passed outside or a person waved through the window. “Of course not. Tanner McCadden is nothing more than a boy I grew up with who I need to help my little brother. He owes me that much at least, after running off and breaking his promise to me.” She shot up and headed for the espresso machine.
“Then there’s no reason for you to worry. You’re simply helping out an old friend at his farm. Nothing too foreign about that in Sugar Maple. Right?” Felicia offered.
“Right.” Mary-Beth snagged a ton of supplies and lined them all up in front of her.
Her friends closed in around the counter. Carissa leaned in, studying all the potential ingredients. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m figuring out the perfect cup of coffee for Tanner. It can’t be hard. The man’s easy to figure out. Small-town football hero runs off for a better life and only returns when he discovers his family farm is failing. Kind of a no-brainer, right? I mean, I’m the Coffee Whisperer being featured on Knox Brevard’s show.”
“Right,” Felicia agreed.
They all stood there staring at the syrups and the milk and the spices.
“So, what’s stopping you?” Carissa asked
Mary-Beth dropped her head to the counter and beat her fist near her ear. “I’ve got nothing. For the first time in my life, I can’t even make a cup of coffee, let alone a perfectly crafted beverage for a person.” She looked up at her friends, hoping for them to soothe her worries. “What does this mean?”
“You know what it means…” Felicia offered her most sympathetic, sweet, scandalous smile.
“Oh, dear Lord, no. I can’t still be in love with Tanner McCadden!”
Chapter Eight
The lunch bell on the front porch rang, letting Tanner know that his mom had cooked something up. Part of him didn’t want to go inside and face the look he’d received earlier. But the other part of him wanted to know what she’d meant when she had insinuated that his father did want him around and that Tanner had it all wrong.
He snagged his shirt from the post and slid his arms into it, abandoning the back-aching work of fence repair for some sustenance. The aroma of his childhood favorite, steak and cheese sandwiches, wafted from inside. He opened the screen door with a loud squeak. Great… Something else that needed tending to.
“Don’t forget to take off your boots. No mud in my house,” his mom called from the kitchen.
With one hand to the wood-shingled wall, he kicked off a boot and then the other, trying not to fall face first over the threshold due to his legs spasming. Every inch of his body either had a scrape, bruise, or sore muscle. His mom set his plate at his old kitchen table seat and sat across from him. The head of the table, his father’s seat, stood empty, along with his brother’s. They’d once shared boisterous meals, but now the kitchen remained muted, old, and worn.
The smell made his stomach noticeably growl in the quiet, so he picked up the hearty sandwich, only to get smacked.
“Where are your manners? Give thanks before you gobble that down.”
He felt like he was ten again with the scolding, but he obliged since this was still her house. He clasped his hands together and tried to give thanks but couldn’t imagine what to thank their dear Lord for. Their town pastor always said things happened all according to God’s plan, but what was his plan with all this? Father dead, mother suffering, land drying up, crops neglected, repairs, and now coaching football? No way. He unclasped his hands and dug into his meal.
With one bite, he melted into his chair and closed his eyes. “No one in the city makes these the way you do.”
“Don’t talk with food in your mouth, son.” She set her napkin in her lap and took a nibble of her own half sandwich. “So, tell me what Mary-Beth came by to talk to you about. She looked nervous and stressed when she arrived.”
“Nothing worth mentioning. She just had some crazy idea that I should coach high school football while I’m here.”
“Why’s that crazy?”
He dropped his sandwich, coughing and gasping until he managed to swallow his bite and some milk. After recovering, he looked at his mom as if she’d been hit by Gobbles and suffered a head injury. “Seriously?”
She placed her sandwich down in a manner befitting the Queen of Bulgaria instead of a farm woman. “Give me three good reasons why you shouldn’t.”
He matched her posture and ticked off on his fingers. “I don’t have time with the work here.”
“I’ll help, and the town is coming out Saturday to work on some repairs so that it looks nice for Mayor Horton and Mr. Strickland’s wedding. And you need a life beyond the farm if you’re going to stay.”
“I’m not.” He took another gulp of milk. “I’m only here until Hawk can return home. He’s the one meant to inherit the farm. No way Pops would’ve left it to me.”
“We’ll get back to that. That’s only one reason. What are the other two?”
He held up the next finger. “I’m a college coach. Why would I coach high school?” He laughed nervously.
“So, you think giving back to the people of this town who lifted you up and gave you opportunities with football don’t deserve you? That you’re too above these people now?”
“No.” He rubbed his forehead, feeling the grit of outside on his skin. “I mean, I’m sure they have someone else to coach a high school team to state. Why me?”
“Why not? You’re the best this town has to offer.” She took another bite and then wiped her hands. “And the third reason?”
“Do I need another one?”
“You haven’t given any valid ones yet. You’ve g
iven excuses, not reasons. First one, we’ve already established the town will help. The second, we understand, is that your pride won’t let you do it, and the third? I’m guessing has to do with Mary-Beth.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He took a massive bite and chewed the steak like an angry bull.
“You don’t? Then give me a valid reason why my son—who I raised to be a loving, caring child with a responsibility to the community —won’t go help out a bunch of kids with a dream. A dream he shared once.”
The guilt weighed on him. “What if I don’t even like football anymore?”
“You’ve decided you don’t like the game? The same game that you obsessed over when you could crawl to the box and pull out the ball to throw and catch before you could stand? The same game that you ate, slept, and devoted every waking hour to as a kid? You know that for sure?”
“No. Not for sure. Coaching college ball as an assistant is too disconnected from the actual game, and if I’m being honest, I think I resent the game. You said that Dad cared about me despite football, but what was I supposed to think? He didn’t speak to me from the moment I lost my scholarship.”
“It’s complicated.” She pushed back from the table.
A lump lodged in his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me about Pops’s condition? All those years. I could’ve been here to help, to be with him.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open for a second before she closed it and rose from the table. “That’s why we didn’t want to tell you. Your father and I never had a choice but to remain on this farm. We don’t regret the years we spent here, but it was his duty to stay. He wanted you and your brother to have a choice.”
“A choice means there were options.” He swallowed, but the lump wouldn’t move. His eyes misted as he remembered that empty feeling of loneliness and disappointment that had raged and ruled over him for years. “Mom, how do you think I felt when he drove me away after my injury? I was broken and alone and felt like no one cared about me because I wasn’t the star we all thought I’d be. It was humbling and horrible.”
“We can’t change the past. Just know everything your father ever did was out of love.” She shot from the kitchen before he could press her further.
It didn’t matter, though. She was right about one thing… He couldn’t change the past, but what did he want for his future? Football had brought him nothing but disappointment and a wedge between him and his family.
He finished his sandwich and returned to the front porch to put his boots on.
His mom had work gloves on and headed for the herb garden, but she paused. “Just because your dream didn’t turn out the way you had hoped, at least you had a shot. From what I understand, Andy has a crap coach and no parents. Try to remember how you felt at seventeen, with the hope of playing college ball even though it was a huge obstacle considering your humble upbringing and the little exposure our town had in the world of football. It took more than just your talent to achieve your dreams of being offered multiple college scholarships. It took your coach, us, your town family, even the town elders, who chipped in for the team to afford the trip to state. All of that isn’t being offered to Andy. Are you going to punish him because of how you feel about Mary-Beth?”
He stood there with one boot on, watching his mom walk away in her rolled-up jeans, flannel top, and judgmental gaze. For a second, he allowed himself to think back to those years. Everyone in town had cheered him on, driven him home from practice when his parents couldn’t make it, spent extra hours on the field to make sure he was ready for the big game. Mary-Beth always by his side, his biggest fan. His mom was right. He did owe the people of Sugar Maple. If he couldn’t pay them back, he could pay it forward to the next kid, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do. This wasn’t about him; it was about Andy and his dream to play ball. This time, maybe, the dream would last more than one pass and a tackle.
He finished repairing the fence, changed his shirt, and drove to the high school, but when he reached the parking lot, everything flooded into him at once. The cheers echoed in his head. The smells of game food and sweat. The feeling of catching a pass in the end zone. The congratulatory kisses from Mary-Beth. Kisses that promised him a happy future but only gave him a broken past.
Chapter Nine
“I owe you big-time. I promise to do well in school and help out around the café any chance I get.” Andy pounded his football to his chest as if doing some sort of ritual greeting dance for a coach.
“Just work hard on your academics. If not, I pull Tanner from coaching. Got it?”
Andy only nodded, but she didn’t think he heard a word she said, with his mesmerized, locked-on gaze at the Sugar Maple football legend approaching.
“If this doesn’t work out, you know I’ll pay for your college.”
“No. You finally paid off your own loans and those to open your shop. I won’t put you back in debt.” Andy waved her to silence, and now wasn’t the time nor the place to argue with him, knowing he would never listen. Not with Tanner strutting to the field with that familiar jock swagger, as if he owned the universe. She knew that swagger made most women swoon at the sight. Not her. She liked the softer side, when they were alone and he made her feel like she was the only woman in the world and he didn’t want to be anywhere else but by her side.
Tanner didn’t stop until he was too close for comfort. “Hey.”
His warm breath breezed across the tip of her nose and over her lips, so she took a step back and shot that perfectly created, hour-long science experiment cup of coffee into his chest.
“I guess I look how I feel. This might actually keep me standing long enough to see what these kids have.”
Andy shot between them, offering his hand. “Hi, Coach. Thanks so much for doing this. The guys are all pumped and ready.” After their too-long, white-knuckled handshake, Andy took off to the other boys on the field.
“In case you didn’t notice, you’ve made his life. I’ve never seen him so excited.”
Tanner pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Can’t believe how much he’s grown up. He was what, six last time I saw him?”
“Seven. I missed him every day.” She eyed her little brother, the boy who thought she’d given up so much to watch out for him while he finished high school, but truth be told, she couldn’t bear the thought of being away from him again.
“You look like a mother about to have an empty nest.” He took a swig of the coffee.
She held her breath, but when the cup came down, she saw his lip curl at the edge. “What’s wrong? What don’t you like about it?”
“It’s good. Really.” He gave her a condescending pat on the shoulder.
“Good?” She huffed. “Good? I’m the most well-known barista in the county—no, the state. Maybe the country. I’ve been nicknamed the Coffee Whisperer. I’m about to be featured on a well-known internet show about my coffee creations.”
“I said it was…well, I don’t want to say it again since you look like you’re about to dump it over my head.” He eyed the field. “I better get out there.”
“Oh no, you don’t. You’re not going to escape that easily. Tell me what’s wrong with the drink.”
He ran his free hand through his thick, dark hair and looked at the cup and then at her. “Nothing. It’s just not something I would usually drink.”
She wanted to tell him to try it again, but one glance and she saw his clucking tongue trying to free it of the liquid residue. “Be specific, please. What don’t you like?”
“I don’t know… There’s like a grass or hay flavor to this. I can get that while working in the fields or barn.”
“Are you saying my beans are under roasted or damaged?” Mary-Beth gritted her teeth. No way she’d allow her beans to go bad. “That’s a special, high-quality coffee you’re drinking.”
“I guess I’m just not a good coffee connoisseur.” He handed her back the cup and trotted o
nto the field, leaving her holding her rejected brew. She sniffed, and it smelled rich and vibrant, but then she sipped it.
Dang if he wasn’t right. She stomped off to go investigate how this could’ve happened. She’d been saving that bag of coffee for months, waiting for the perfect opportunity to use the rated 95 expensive beans.
At her car, she snagged one last look and noticed Tanner’s gaze fixed on her the way he used to look at her—with want and desire. Her body trembled.
She shook it off and hopped into the car, ignoring how she responded to him. Anger crept in at the memory of him never even writing her back or calling her. She put the car in reverse and forced her attention on the road all the way back to Maple Grounds, where she flipped the Open sign over for the evening and went to investigate the coffee bag.
The only way the drink would taste like that is if the mild roast had gone bad, gotten wet, or been old. A few months on the shelf wouldn’t cause that flavor. She opened the bag, and it smelled fine. Turned it in all directions to make sure there weren’t any holes or water damage. Held it up to look under and discovered the reason. The expiration date was from last year. She’d been so excited to try the coffee, she never thought to check to see if it was out of date.
She sank down to the small stool behind the counter and eyed the expensive splurge that had been too good of a price to pass up. Now she knew why.
The bell rang at the front of the store, and in shuffled the elders for their afternoon tea. She tossed the bag in the trash and went to work brewing, pouring, cutting lemons, and plating some scones from Carissa’s bakery she had dropped by earlier.
Davey and Felicia’s grandmother, Ms. Hughes, snuggled like two lovebirds in the corner, while Ms. Gina glowered at them and Ms. Melba prattled on about the day. The town elders were all-knowing, plugged in to the Sugar Maple Gossip Hotline. Heck, they’d practically founded it sixty years ago.
