The Enchanted Garden Cafe

by Abigail Drake

  Mom came out to the garden with a huge smile on her face. “Look who’s here,” she said. Auntie Mags followed closely behind her, making me roll my eyes. This wasn’t a casual visit. It felt like an intervention.

  She grinned at my reaction. I stood up and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Hi, Auntie Mags.”

  Mom went back to the kitchen under the premise of getting coffee. In actuality, she left us alone so we could talk privately.

  Auntie Mags sat down on the bench next to me and got right to the point. “What’s going on, Fi?”

  I played with the pencil in my hand. “I think you’re right about my heart.”

  She nodded. “Do you want me to try to help you with it?”

  I wanted this pain and confusion to end but wasn’t sure about energy fields or chakras or blocked hearts. “I’m not sure you can.”

  Auntie Mags patted my knee. “I know you don’t believe, Fiona. You’ve always been our little skeptic. It’s part of your charm. But it wouldn’t hurt to let me try, would it?”

  Remembering how it had felt when all those hands hovered over me last time made me shiver. I was fairly certain it had been an anxiety attack and not a chakra blockage but couldn’t be entirely sure. “It kind of hurt before.”

  She sighed. “It won’t happen again. It’s just you and me this time, kiddo.”

  I took a deep breath. “Should we go inside?”

  “It’s beautiful out here. You can lie on the bench if you want.”

  The bench had long fluffy cushions that tied under the sides. I stretched out, closed my eyes, and tried to relax. The summer sunshine peeked through the leaves of the big oak tree above my head. The wind whispered gently through the leaves, and the smell of roses and lavender and all the other flowers in my mom’s garden wafted to my nose. The fountain gurgled softly, reminding me of Matthew’s song.

  “You’re tensing up,” said Auntie Mags. “Try to relax again.”

  Inhaling slowly through my nose and exhaling through my lips made me so relaxed I was almost asleep, like floating on a warm summer breeze. A strange vibration filled the air as Auntie Mags’s hands hovered over my body, but it didn’t frighten me this time. She started at my head and traveled to my toes, but she went back to my chest several times. At first it was a little uncomfortable, but gradually the achy feeling eased and then left altogether.

  “Thank you, Auntie Mags,” I murmured, my eyes still closed.

  She kissed my forehead and covered me with a light blanket as I drifted off. “Sleep, sweet child, and dream of happy things.”

  For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could. I snuggled into the blanket and sighed as the sound of the fountain played like Matthew’s song in my ears.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Good sex should be as decadent and delicious as good chocolate.

  ~Aunt Francesca~

  I woke up a few hours later, refreshed and ready to go. Mom was in the kitchen making dinner. Pasta primavera, my favorite. I smiled and gave her a hug.

  “I feel so much better.”

  “A little rest, a lot of love, and some help from Auntie Mags’s healing hands. It works every time.” She filled a bowl of pasta for me, and we sat down at the island to eat. “I stopped by the hospital while you were sleeping. Moses opened his eyes. He went back to sleep right away, but the nurse said it’s a good sign. And Sally called. She asked if you could stop by. She has something special for you.”

  I grinned. When Sally had something special, it was always a lovely find. I finished my dinner and headed right to her shop. On the way, I noticed posted signs in several windows. “Coming Soon: Parking Solutions from Anderson Solutions. Meeting the Needs of Your Community.” Many were posted on shops closed ages ago, but some were more recent. I sensed the stranglehold Anderson had over local businesspeople getting stronger. Time was ticking. If we didn’t figure out something soon, our café would have a sign in the window too. The idea made a cold wave of fear wash over me. The council meeting was only weeks away, and the signs in the windows made it seem more real. Anderson’s “solutions” were tearing our little community apart, and I’d never felt so powerless.

  Sally greeted me with her usual enthusiasm. She squealed, hugged me, and gave me air kisses on my cheeks. “Wait until you see what I have for you, pretty girl.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the back of the shop.

  Sally had flaming red hair, ruby lips, and way too much blue eyeshadow and mascara, but it complemented the blue vintage dress she wore. She was beautiful and kind, and she’d been like an extra doting aunt to me my whole life. She also had a brilliant eye for fashion.

  She led me into the back room of the shop, and when I saw what hung on a hook in her office, I gasped. “It’s Chanel. Vintage Chanel. Amazing, Sally. And it looks brand new.”

  Sally clapped her hands together in excitement. “Isn’t it lovely?”

  I reached out to stroke the fabric, pale-blue tweed lighter than air with silver piping and silver buttons. The jacket had four small pockets, two on each side. It was exquisite and also way out of my price range. “It’s gorgeous, but I don’t think I can . . .”

  She hushed me with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand. “It’s a gift. You’re going to speak for all of us at the meeting. I want to thank you and help you look your best.”

  I had to blink back tears. So many people trusted and believed in me. I couldn’t let them down. “Thank you, Sally.”

  She pulled me into a big, warm hug. When she pushed me gently away, she had tears in her eyes too. “Stop it. You’re going to make me cry, and my makeup will be ruined. Go and try it on, you silly goose.”

  Sally waited outside the door. The suit fit as if made for me. At least sixty years old, it looked like it had never been worn. I stepped out, and Sally almost cried again. She waved her hands in front of her eyes to make it stop. “Oh, baby girl. You’re so beautiful. If only I could have given you a few inches of my height. You might have been a model. You’re perfect. Like a little perfect doll.”

  No one could spend five minutes with Sally and not feel better. She loved everyone, and her praise was effusive and genuine.

  “Thanks, Sally.”

  I went into the room to change back into my clothes as Sally chatted with me from behind the door. “Have you been to see Moses?” she asked. “Your mom said he opened his eyes today.”

  Almost closing time, the store was nearly empty. I cracked the door a tiny bit and peeked out, deciding to pump Sally for information. “She told me, but I didn’t have a chance to go and see him today. Have you heard anything more about what happened?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Poor man. And do you know what I find odd?”

  “What?”

  “No one in the entire South Side seems to have a clue about who did it or why. And people around here are so nosy. Remember when Lizzie Carson went into labor? There were ten casseroles on her doorstep before her cervix had even dilated.”

  “You’re right.” I winced just thinking about Lizzie Carson’s poor cervix. “We have no secrets here.”

  “It’s almost like . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t even want to say it.”

  “What?”

  “This is a stretch, but could it be a hate crime? Because of his race.”

  “Or it may have been something random. Wrong place, wrong time.”

  She gave me a sad little smile. “Let’s hope. The alternative is almost too much to bear, isn’t it?”

  I swallowed hard. She was right, and I knew for sure Sally had encountered more than her fair share of hate. Strangely, it hadn’t made her bitter or angry. If anything, it made her more tolerant and forgiving.

  I slipped back into my T-shirt and shorts and gently put the suit back onto a hanger, stroking the fabric with my fingertips. I let out a sigh. My world might be in chaos, but the suit was perfect. Thank goodness for small miracles.

  Sally stood outside the door, humming alon
g to the music playing in the shop. “Oh. I almost forgot. I saw your boyfriend the other night.”

  I stuck my head out the door again. “What? When?”

  Sally wrinkled her forehead as she thought about it. “Saturday. I went to the piano bar you recommended on Station Street with my beau. Oh, what fun. Those piano guys are so naughty.”

  I blinked. Scott had been at home with his parents until Sunday. He’d been clear on that one. He’d told me several times, in fact. Why would he lie? “On Saturday?”

  Sally nodded as she put the Chanel suit into a garment bag for me. “Dueling piano night. We had a blast.”

  I swallowed hard. What if he’d stopped by at the café? If he had, he might have seen me kissing Matthew, and he would have been devastated. But of course he hadn’t, because apparently he’d been at dueling piano night.

  “Did you say hello?” I tried to keep my voice nonchalant.

  She paused. “It was a bit strange. I waved when I saw him, and he didn’t respond. I thought he maybe didn’t recognize me. But he approached me when I came out of the ladies’ room. He seemed terribly uncomfortable, poor thing, and kind of drunk too. I was surprised he even wanted to chat. After all, we only met that one time, when you brought him here weeks ago.”

  I’d dragged Scott into Sally’s shop to see some vintage neckties. He hadn’t been impressed with the ties, and he’d stared at Sally like she was an alien. We had a spat about it afterward. He called her my “freaky friend,” and I lost it. I knew he had to remember her. I also knew it would have been hard to miss her, even in a crowded bar. She stood over six feet tall, sported the shoulders of a linebacker, and usually had on more pastel than an Easter egg.

  “What did he say?”

  “It was the oddest thing. He wanted to talk about my shop.”

  “Your shop?”

  “Yes.” She paused as if hesitating about what to say next, an odd thing with Sally. “And he wanted to talk about your shop too. He said, well, I hate to mention this, but he told me you and your mom were on the verge of selling. Is that true?”

  I shook my head and patted Sally’s hand because she looked so concerned, but this made me ten shades of furious at Scott. “No. It’s not.”

  She let out a sigh of relief, but a little frown formed between her expertly plucked brows. “Maybe I misunderstood. He asked if I planned to sell, too, and he even gave me his card in case I needed advice. It was quite sweet of him, but I told him my little place made no difference at all. Mr. McAlister owns the shops on either side of me. If he doesn’t sell, why would Anderson even want my shop?”

  “You’re right. Did he say anything else?”

  She gave me a little wink. “Well, it was kind of adorable, actually. He hinted around about an engagement in the very near future. I know it’s supposed to be a secret, but he seemed over the moon about it. Congratulations, my dear. He’s . . . lovely. So good-looking and a great dresser. I wish both of you the best.”

  I tried to keep my composure. It would devastate Sally if she knew how much her words upset me. “Thank you, Sally, but I’m too busy to even think about getting engaged at the moment.”

  Sally made a sympathetic tsking sound. “You have school and the shop and so much baking. It’s a lot of work. You’ll have plenty of time to settle down with Scott later. By the way, Ralph and I plan to come to acoustic night sometime in the next few weeks. I already promised Matthew we would.”

  “You know Matthew?”

  Sally nodded. “Sweet boy. He stops by all the time to chat, and he bought the beautiful leather jacket in the window. It looked fantastic on him.”

  I remembered the jacket, buttery soft and extremely expensive. I wondered how a guy who played for free at acoustic night and appeared to have no other means of employment could afford it, but that worry was small compared to my other concerns.

  “Did you hear about Yonky’s?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “It breaks my heart. And the nut shop closed too. I will miss those nuts.”

  She sounded so dramatic it almost made me giggle, but a thought occurred to me. “Were they pressured by Anderson too?”

  “I’m sure they were. Anderson has been relentless. And they’re acting like they own the block already. It makes me wonder what tricks they might have up their sleeve. I don’t know why your boyfriend misunderstood, but it’s a good thing your mom is standing firm.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She zipped the Chanel suit into a garment bag and handed me the hanger. “Have you seen their blueprints for the proposed garage? The Enchanted Garden is key. If they can’t convince your mom to sell, there won’t be a project at all.”

  I kissed Sally, thanked her again, and walked slowly back to the café with my beautiful suit over my shoulder. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Scott. Better to deal with him now than to let it stew.

  He answered on the second ring. “I’m in a meeting,” he hissed. “Hold on.” I heard a door open and close, and it sounded like he’d gone outside. “What is it?”

  I never called Scott at work, but this happened to be important. “You went to the piano bar on Saturday. You weren’t with your parents.”

  There was a long pause. “What are you talking about?”

  “My friend saw you there.”

  His voice was an angry whisper. “I was with my parents. Your freaky friend is a total liar.”

  I stopped right in the middle of the sidewalk. “I never said who it was, and don’t you dare call Sally a freak ever again. I mean it, Scott.”

  Scott let out an exasperated breath, his tone flippant and annoyed. “Some of us have to work for a living. We all can’t hang out all day making cookies and picking flowers like you and your mom, Fiona. I’m in the middle of something very important. I don’t have time for this right now.”

  His comments made my blood boil. “I don’t have time for this ever.”

  “What do you mean?” I heard the worry creep through the anger in his voice.

  Suddenly, it was so clear. Scott was . . . a total jerk. I don’t know why I’d never seen it before. Maybe Aunt Mags’s chakra unblocking actually worked.

  My words came out in a rush, my heart pounding. “You’re nothing but a liar. A fake.”

  “Because your friend imagined seeing me at a bar? You’re being ridiculous.”

  “She didn’t imagine anything. You told her my mom was thinking about selling the café. That’s a total lie. And why would you tell her we might get engaged? We’re not even dating anymore.”

  There was a long pause. “We’re just taking a break. This isn’t a permanent thing.”

  I let out a laugh, but there was no humor in it at all. Scott had seemed so perfect, so attractive. Now I couldn’t even remember what drew me to him in the first place. At this point, I found him almost repulsive.

  “Yes, it is. It’s very permanent.”

  “You can’t do this to me,” he said. I heard a strange note in his voice. Was he crying, or was it something else? I didn’t care. I’d moved a step or two beyond ticked off and had just hit my red zone.

  “It’s not up to you. We’re done. It’s over. Adios, Scotty.”

  He let out a frustrated noise. “Look, I can’t talk right now. I’ll stop by the café when I get back, and we’ll sort this out.”

  “Nope. Don’t waste your time or mine.”

  I hung up the phone. People walked by me on either side as I stood there, my phone in my hand, staring at it blankly. What had just happened?

  “Wow,” I said softly. “That was . . . weird.”

  There’d been no lists of pros and cons. No hours spent dwelling on all possible outcomes. I acted instinctively. Impulsively. And I did the right thing. So why did I feel so thrown off?

  He tried to call back, and I ignored it, shoving my phone back into my pocket. As I did, I felt the crumpled paper with Matthew’s address written on it and knew exactly what I had to do. I walked home wi
th a determined set to my shoulders, hung the beautiful suit on the back of my bedroom door, left a note for my mom, and set off immediately for Matthew’s house.

  Luckily, I brought a hoodie along. After only a few blocks, the wind picked up, and the sky grew ominously dark. I sped up my pace, hoping I’d make it to Matthew’s before it poured but knew it would be close.

  Scott called me over and over again. I turned off my phone, not wanting to deal with him. I could only handle one problem at a time, and I wanted to deal with Matthew first. I had to ask him about the naked yoga, or the doubt would eat me up inside. I needed to know the truth, to hear it from his lips.

  Halfway there, thunder sounded in the sky, and it started to rain. By the time I got to Matthew’s house, I was soaked to the skin. Even with my hoodie on, the rain managed to seep through my clothing all the way down to my undies.

  He lived in one of the elegant Victorian rowhouses lining the river. They had recently been renovated and made into high-end condos, and I remembered reading something about the architect in charge of the project winning an award. They sat on the edge of the South Side where the funky hippie shops changed into designer boutiques and fancy restaurants.

  I walked up the stone steps and rang the doorbell. No one answered. I banged on the door, but still no one answered. I never considered Matthew might not be at home and willing to listen to my tirade. I sat down on the stone steps in front of his door and wept as rain continued to pour down on me and the sky had turned black. I could hardly see and now had to walk all the way home in the dark.

  “Fiona?” Matthew stood directly in front of me, a bag from Wu’s Chinese restaurant in his hand and his jacket over his head. “What are you doing here?”

  I hiccupped and stood up. “Did you tell anyone about the naked yoga class?” I almost had to shout to be heard about the sound of the rain.

  “What?” Matthew stared at me, stunned. Obviously, he had no idea what I was talking about, but I still wanted to hear him say the words.

  “Someone reported us to the department of health. I need to know the truth. Have you spoken with anyone at all about it? Even a friend? Please tell me it wasn’t you.”