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Rainbow Mocha

Page 7

by Verena DeLuca


  "Tea, my brain has been so scattered lately. I completely forgot you were coming today," I said.

  Tori rolled her eyes, causing me to raise my eyebrows at her.

  "Your hatred of tea is the most Karen thing ever," she said.

  "What?" I asked.

  "I mean why hate something so trivial. What are you, 12?"

  She caught me off guard. I will give her that. But I could not help but burst into laughter.

  She gave me a puzzled look and set the pastries on the counter.

  I could not stop laughing and had to lean against the back counter to balance myself. Tears formed at the corner of my eyes.

  "Pot calling the kettle black much?" I squeaked out.

  After what felt like minutes, Aubrey walked out of the back, and asked, "What's going on?"

  "Sarcasm... overload..." I said as I squatted down to compose myself but it was not happening so I pointed at Tori.

  "I just told her to stop being such a Karen about tea," she said and crossed her arms.

  Aubrey giggled and asked, "You think what? Oh, my tea."

  She crumpled into laughter beside me.

  The laughter barely let me get the words out. "Could . . . you imagine . . . if I started calling the cops on . . . tea drinkers."

  "Barry's face would be so great," Aubrey said.

  We pulled ourselves up with the counter and tried to get it together.

  "Hailey do you think the law is a joke?" I said in a mock Barry voice.

  "No Mr. Bear, tea is deadly," Aubrey replied in a girlish innocence.

  We let a fresh wave of laughter roll over us.

  "I wasn't trying to be funny," Tori said.

  She was getting angrier by the minute, and I knew it would only make for awkward meetings, but it was just too much.

  I cleared my throat the best I could and wiped my eyes, "Oh Tori. Thank you. I needed that. Like tea crimes keep me up at night."

  "All I'm trying to say," Tori explained. "Is there are a lot more important things to hate."

  "That's the point," I said.

  I tried my best to suppress another fit of giggles. In glancing at Aubrey, I could see she was battling the same tea lord.

  Tori was missing it though. Sarcasm was not for everyone, but man it made my day when it went over their heads.

  "To be a Karen about it, I'd actually have to be apoplectic over it," I said, and Tori's face told me she was still lost. "You know, actually rampaging. . . Which is obnoxious at best, Tori. It's a teaing joke. Don't take everything so seriously."

  "Right. Well, it's childish."

  "Ok Tori," I rolled my eyes as she turned to leave. "Thank you for saving me from enjoying life. If you're so concerned about how tea feels, maybe try worrying about how Karen's feel when you use their name as a pejorative."

  Tori sneered, and I gave her my sweetest smile, and said, "Have a tea-riffic rest of your day!"

  "Someone had a bowl of soggy tea for breakfast," I said to Aubrey after Tori had left the cafe.

  And we started giggling all over again.

  "How can people live with so much venom?" she asked. "If anyone's a 'Karen', it's totally her. Coming in here with her superior air."

  "No kidding," I said. "She probably has the cops on speed dial."

  "Officer, I need to report a crime," Aubrey held her hand up to her ear as a mock phone. "These people are having too much fun."

  "Right," I giggled. "But seriously, calling people Karens is a far cry worse than using an inanimate object as a negative word."

  "For real. How rude can she be?" Aubrey asked. "Might as well start using Tori instead of tea."

  We let the laughter over take us.

  "Guess Tori is back to her usual self," I transmitted to Azure.

  "It was bound to happen, but for what it's worth, I appreciate your teaing sarcasm."

  I laughed even harder. I so needed this. Uninterrupted, pure laughter with my favorite people.

  After we calmed again, I asked Aubrey what Bianca had said.

  "She let me know that Ben was there for the entire event. It surprised her to discover that I knew about his hobby. She said all the painters were there throughout the night, and that if she recalled anyone slipping out early she'd call me back."

  "Tea," I said and giggled.

  "Guess I'm going to talk to Jess when I drop the kids off today."

  "Better you than me, I've already had two accusations blow up in my face."

  "Subtly isn't one of your finer quali-teas."

  I broke into another fit of laughter.

  "Stop it, you're going to kill me," I said, barely able to articulate the words.

  "That would be a Tea-ragi-tea."

  And with that we were crying laughing again. I was thankful for the lack of customers.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Thursday, April 16th

  Shocked that I made it to Thursday evening, I realized I had been truly looking forward to our tribe meeting. It was a relief to tune out the ladies as they gossiped about matters outside of my purview. Not that I wanted this banter to continue to be the norm for meeting conversation. But for this week, it gave me time to clear my mind and refocus.

  Azure was also eager to take a break from spying on the town. B & M Fish Market and Hayes Meat Market were the latest victims this week. It seemed like it would never stop, and I felt so helpless. I could tell that Azure was beating himself up over his failure to catch the culprit in the act, but there was nothing I could say to ease the stress of it all.

  Why did someone want to taint the entire town, who hated tourists that much? The more I thought about all the wording, the more I realized the real motive here was to hurt tourism. While I could see how tourists had a negative impact on the community, it was literally the reason we all were able to live a semi-retired lifestyle.

  No where else could a community thrive on small businesses. Or have strange store hours, while spending more time gossiping than working, and get to wake up to a gorgeous view day after day. Living in a place where tourism was the driving factor for the economy meant you catered to them and brushed off any negatives they left behind. It was trading hustle and bustle for a life of leisure.

  As a community we should actively promote more reasons for people to visit, not deter them from coming.

  That's it! That was what the tribe could focus on.

  "What if we focus our meetings on increasing tourism?" I asked, cutting Tori off.

  "Umm," Tori said. "We already do."

  "No," I said. "Discussing Sandy's arrest over the weeknd isn't helping anyone's business."

  She gave me a dirty look.

  "Thank you!" Skylar said, as she threw her arms in the air but then blushed at her own outburst, and so quickly added, "What did you have in mind?"

  The ladies giggled, but stayed quiet.

  "I mean discussing ways we can bring in more tourists. For example, murals on buildings could be a fantastic way to get people to want to visit our towns."

  "Like your lovely piece outside?" Tori asked and broke into laughter. "I don't want that on my building."

  "A nice Baked with Barf would be perfect for your store," I said, in my flattest tone, looking her straight in the eyes.

  She silenced her laughter and broke eye contact. So I continued with my excitement to the rest of the tribe, "Tourist want to see towns with character. What better way to show off our character than to have local artists design our outsides?"

  I could tell the idea intrigued the other women. Many of them looked lost in thought. No doubt imagining how beautiful our towns would be, if every building hosted a painting depicting something special about the store inside.

  Granted, it would be a means to fix Marble Falls, but it was still an excellent idea for the Hill Country as a whole. I was not above giving credit where it was due, as I would not have come up with it, if not for a push from the town tagger.

  I laughed to myself at the thought of glorifying th
e person. I could see it now, t-shirts with a masked cowboy, and in large letters, "WANTED: TOWN TAGGER".

  "How much would it cost?" Skylar asked.

  "I'm not sure," I said. "But I bet it will pay for itself in the number of tourists it brings in."

  "I don't do business with tourists," Vera said. "Nor do I have walls to paint."

  "True, but your clients do," I said. "Our towns run on tourism. Without it, there's no way that we could support all the small businesses. Think of every plant you've sold that is being displayed in front of a business. You are the one to thank for every person who complements my own flowers out front."

  The ladies nodded in agreement. It surprised me to see that even Tori was paying attention. I made a mental note that publicly shining light on her rude behavior seemed to be an affective means of correcting her tone.

  "I wouldn't mind a large cinnamon roll on my wall," Tori said in a quiet voice.

  "That's brilliant," I said. "We can all think about what we would put on our buildings. Then present our ideas next week? Maybe look into who is an artist in your town too. If anyone comes up with other tourist related discussions for future meetings, we can start a rolling list of ideas!"

  They responded with various versions of okay, and the excitement in the room was palpable.

  The ideas were forming in my mind faster than I could say them. This was it. This would be the tribe thing.

  "If we show how great it can be on our business, the other business owners will follow suit," I explained.

  "Are you leading a revolt?" Azure transmitted.

  "Only an artistic one."

  The ladies slipped off into their own excited conversations of ideas for their walls and the banter was music to my ears. It had taken a few months, but I finally felt fully ready to take on the role as Tribe Leader. Maybe I would thank the town tagger, if we ever caught them, that is.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Friday, April 17th

  Jess agreed to pick up the kids and bring Jason to the cafe around four to watch the video. When they arrived, I was still not prepared to confront another possible suspect.

  Aubrey set the children up at a table in the back to color, while the four of us viewed the recording.

  "Thank you for coming," I said to Jason.

  "You're welcome? Jess didn't say exactly why you needed me."

  "We're still looking into the tagging," Aubrey said. "We have a video we need you to see."

  "Oh, okay," Jason said. "She mentioned something about a video."

  I opened my laptop on the counter, and we all stood together in an eerily similar formation to the first time I viewed the video. It would have been a heartwarming moment, if it were not because we were accusing Jason of being the town tagger.

  I pressed play, and we watched in silence as the figure approached the wall, paint can in hand.

  After the tagging began, I sped it up to the point that the figure was leaving. We could see the person's head, but they hid their face behind a mask and hoodie.

  "Too bad the camera didn't catch their face," Jason said.

  "Yes, it is," I said, looking Jason up and down.

  He was the right height, and the only artist in town we knew of that used spray paint. But he was not nervous, or showing any signs of being caught red-handed. His body language spoke volumes about his curiosity towards discovering the culprit himself. Was I just that bad at reading teenagers? Or could we still be getting the taggers identity wrong?

  "Do you have something you wish to admit?" Aubrey asked, in a mom voice that sent a chill down my spine.

  Maybe she could play a believable bad cop?

  Jess was notably quiet. Even with the film, she refused to think it was Jason. Which I understood, I doubted that I could accuse my own brother-in-law of a crime either.

  "No," Jason said. "You can't think that's me."

  Good cop time.

  "If you admit it now, the town will go easier on you," I said. "We just want—"

  "No really," he held up his hand to cut me off. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to the laptop.

  "Sure."

  He rolled the video back to where the person was walking away from the wall.

  "You see that?" he asked.

  "See what?" Jess asked, leaning closer.

  He rolled the video back again and slowed it down.

  "See," he said pausing the video. "There is no way that is someone my age. They're stumbling over their jeans."

  We watched it again, this time at regular speed while the person tagged the wall. They fidgeted with their pants as they painted. It was apparent they were wearing clothes that their body was not used to.

  "I don't wear baggy jeans," Jason said. "None of my friends do. We would end up tripping while we skated."

  Why had we not noticed that?

  "That looks like an adult who thought that's how kids look," Jason said laughing. "Old people always over think how we dress. Not that y'all are old."

  We chuckled. We better not be old!

  "I never noticed," I said.

  "Yeah," Aubrey said. "I was always looking at the spray paint."

  "And you're sure?" I asked. "None of your friends wear baggy pants?"

  "No. I mean yes," he said. "None of us wear those. I think that went out of style years ago."

  I thought back to high school, when all the dudes who thought they were cool wore jeans with pant legs that could fit three of me. Aunt Tona had joked about them resembling bell bottoms, and that all teens look back at their senior styles and laugh. It was part of being a kid.

  "Besides," he said. "Tuesday night when this happened, I would have been with my friends down at the skate park. Just ask Tony or Zach. They can vouch for me."

  "Well then," I said, holding out my hand. "I owe you an apology. I'm so sorry for wrongfully accusing."

  "Yes," Aubrey said. "For a second time. We're sorry."

  "I never believed it," Jess said. "But we had to be sure."

  Jason laughed, clearly not offended, and asked, "Does this mean I can get a free coffee?"

  "Absolutely!" I said with a huge smile on my face. "Anything you want, it's on the house."

  Jason surprised me. Being able to laugh about this, rather than get defensive showed an actual level of maturity, I do not think I would have had at his age.

  "How was our good cop, bad cop act?" I asked, as I went behind the counter to make us all fresh drinks.

  "I wouldn't have pegged you for the good cop?"

  "Me either, someone stole my role, mid act!" I side eyed Aubrey, who was holding in a laugh.

  "What? I'm a mom, I'm always the bad cop at home."

  We all laughed together. She was probably right. I could not imagine William playing bad cop at home.

  "One more thing," Jason said.

  "Yes?"

  "When you find out who the tagger is. Can you let me know?" he asked. "They've got some real skill with the cans, and I'd love to learn from them."

  We laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Here was a teenager, too afraid to share his own skills, but more than willing to learn.

  "Only if you take your art into the gallery," I said. "You don't have to commit to selling it, just take the leap, and have the conversation with Bianca."

  "I guess I can do that," he said.

  Wait. That could be the solution!

  "I have an idea," I said. "How about you help the town by agreeing to fix the tagging that's already there? We can fix it up to be more inspirational and appeal to the tourists."

  He looked uncomfortable.

  "I can pay you?" I said. "And I'm sure the other business owners would be willing to pay too."

  I could see on his face that the idea of being paid to paint was appealing.

  "Are you sure?" he asked. "You've not even seen my work."

  "If Jess says you're good, I believe it."

  "Deal!" he said. "But for you, we'll make it a barter for coffee."

 
"You are speaking to my heart of beans."

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Saturday, April 18th

  Once again, I found myself kicked out of the cafe. With Kendrick now working my usual morning shift, Jess told me to, "Get out and find a hobby" when she found me milling around the storeroom. What I was supposed to find as a hobby I could not guess. I mean, I always loved reading, but apparently Jess and Aubrey were in agreement that I needed to get out of the cafe more often and enjoy myself.

  I considered bringing Azure along—he could have been my Toto, as I biked through Marble Falls—but he had been up far too late trying to catch the tagger who seemed dead set on ruining our pristine town. Even with Jason agreeing to fix the walls, I was not sure that one teen with his talents could fix an entire town on his own, if new businesses were to be targeted.

  I needed to get my mind off the tagger. Hobby, Hobby, Hobby. What were hobbies that people held?

  Perhaps I could take up photography and display my own art at the gallery. Provided I could learn the needed skills of lighting and composition. No. Photography was not what I needed. It sounded a bit more taxing than I was prepared to commit to.

  Knitting, no. Fishing, no. Running, no. Bird watching, am I 80? no. I should have stayed at the cafe and researched hobbies, not bike around town aimlessly.

  Turning right again, I ended up back on Main Street.

  I had managed to waste twenty minutes, but only accomplished riding in a giant rectangle around downtown. Tourists from all over were swarming around town. Weekend traffic came to a halt as pedestrians crisscross the streets and walked into the road when two large crowds inevitably merged. The solution seemed obvious. Cutting off access to vehicles in the four block area on the weekend, would be another way to promote tourism, and lessen traffic.

  Each weekend was a sheer pandemonium of shopping frenzy. Every small business had their doors propped open, and conversations poured through the streets.

  Why would the town tagger want to ruin this? Driving away the lifeblood of our town would only harm their fellow townsfolk. Marble Falls would not be the same if not for the warm hospitality we showed tourists every weekend.

  Not wanting to bike through the swarm of traffic—both pedestrian and vehicular—I took the back alleys. I would peddle back toward the water and look at the ducks.

 

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