“It’s not on the menu,” the girl told me.
“No, it’s not, but I brought some in this morning to use for the dairy-free, low-fat banana bread I made,” I explained to her, keeping my smile in place. Her eyes widened some when I said that and her demeanor changed.
“You have dairy-free, low-fat banana bread?” she asked.
“We did. Just sold the last of it. We will have more in the morning. It is also gluten and nut-free,” I added.
The girl looked up at Drake. “Oh my god. Why didn’t you tell me they had things like that here? I thought it was just a regular coffee shop. I have to text Amy,” the girl said then walked off with her phone in hand.
“Well, damn, girl,” he said impressed. “I’ve not seen her that excited about anything since I met her, but I just met her yesterday or was it the day before. I’m not real sure. Anyway, get her that drink shit she’s so pumped for and I just want an Americano.”
I added his order into the computer when he said, “Give me one of those strawberry donuts too.”
I put it in then went to the espresso machine to start on the cappuccino.
“Amy and I are coming in the morning at eight,” I heard the girl tell Drake.
“That’s great. Now, which one is Amy?” he replied.
“The redhead,” she answered him. “Want to come with us?”
“Will it end in a threesome or a blow job?” he asked hopefully.
The girl laughed. “Uh, no. Absolutely not.”
“Then no thanks. I’ll be in bed,” he replied.
It sounded like Drake asking girls about their feelings on blow jobs was common. I wanted to think it was just him being funny and making a joke… but I didn’t think it was. I was fairly certain if a girl replied that she liked giving blow jobs, he would take her up on it that very moment.
I finished her cappuccino and Drake’s Americano then placed them on the counter. She picked hers up and headed for the door. I put Drake’s donut in a bag and he gave me a lazy smile as he took it from me. “Now I know where to find you,” he said.
“I guess you do,” I replied. However, his buddy would not be happy about his looking for me. I also was not Drake’s type and he wasn’t mine.
“When do you get off work?” he asked me.
I glanced over his shoulder at the brunette talking on her phone just outside the door. “It appears you have enough company today,” I told him.
He shrugged. “She’s getting boring.”
“Don’t be a jerk,” I replied.
He placed a hand over his chest. “Ouch. You wound me.”
“I doubt that. Have a nice day, Drake.”
He shook his head grinning. “Don’t play hard to get, Henley. I like that game.” Then he turned and walked out of the door. I watched as he, once again, put his arm around the girl and they walked away.
With a sigh, I picked up the low-fat oat milk and put it back in the mini fridge under the counter. I needed to find the chalk and add the oat milk to the menu. Then I needed to add it to the list of things for Hillya to order.
Tomorrow I needed to plan on making an extra loaf of banana bread and two more batches of the dark chocolate rolls. If the brunette helped spread the word, we may just need them. Smiling, I headed back to the kitchen to find my list. Gran must be sitting back and smiling right now as she watched this unfold. I liked to think she was always watching.
Six
Doubting my gran had always been a waste of time. My new job was just more proof of her wisdom. She was right; I was good at this and my new boss was very happy with my first week. We already had new regulars who came in just for my items.
Drake had returned alone twice this week, but we had been so busy I didn’t speak to him much. Saul had come in once with the blonde; I hadn’t been the one to take their order, but the blonde had ordered an acai bowl and I had to make those. I had only made eye contact with Saul once when I handed the blonde the bowl. He had been watching me or it appeared like it and I managed a smile then went back to working on a drink order for someone else.
Falling into a routine had been easy enough and I was enjoying working with Hillya. She was possibly my only friend in town or the closest thing I had to one. I saw her more than I saw anyone else. The only issue with my working so much was that I hadn’t made it to the fourth request on Gran’s list.
After I worked eight days straight, Hillya had decided we needed to schedule my days off. She had given me Sunday, Monday and Wednesday off, but I would still deliver items in the morning before they opened for them to sell. She said once she hired someone that I could teach to make the items, I could have real days off. I didn’t mind how things were now though. I also wasn’t sure how I was going to teach someone to make something when I had never written down an actual recipe for anything. I didn’t even know the exact measurements of my ingredients. I just guessed, and it always turned out good.
The two large tool boxes full of my grandfather’s tools were in my back seat as I pulled into the parking lot of Deep South Farmer’s Market. Again, I was confused by Gran’s request. It seemed odd that I was taking Granddad’s tools that she had kept this long to a man who owned a farmer’s market. Not just any farmer’s market either, the largest one in Alabama. It was famous around here and even held a Watermelon Festival every year that brought in thousands of people from all around the southeast.
Perhaps Lloyd March liked tools as well as produce. I didn’t know the man, but I had been here plenty as a child with my grandparents to get their weekly fruits and vegetables as well as homemade ice cream. It had been a while since I’d been there, but the place brought back memories. I wondered how likely it was Lloyd would be here. Gran seemed to think he would be easy enough to find in the letter. It had simply said:
Take Granddad’s tools that I have in storage room to Deep South Farmer’s Market. The man who owns it is Lloyd March. Ask for him and personally give the tools to him. Tell him that your granddad would have wanted him to have them.
Not once in all the years we had come to this farmer’s market had I met this man, yet my granddad was close enough to him that he’d want him to have his tools. It seemed odd but then all Gran’s requests had been strange. Except the first one. It had made enough sense.
The tool boxes had been heavy and a struggle to get in the car. I decided I would leave them there and go find this Lloyd March before fetching the tools. Stepping out of the car, the humid heat hit me in the face followed by a gulf breeze. I wished I’d brought Gran’s white hat. The sunscreen I had applied this morning would have to do its job.
Glancing around the parking lot, where I had found it difficult to find a parking spot, I tried to decide the best way to find Lloyd in this mad house. The tourists were everywhere with their bags of fresh homegrown items and ice cream cones. Every other person I walked past had a watermelon tucked under their arm. The employees had Deep South tee shirts on, but they were all different shades of summer colors. It was hard to decipher who worked here and who didn’t with so many bodies moving about.