Trudy, the owner, was there this afternoon, bustling about the café. She gave Grace a once-over and then just shook her head, as if Grace were too hopeless to help.
She was rather feeling similarly about herself.
Later, in the evening, Grace heard the front door bell jingle and called out, “Welcome to Trudy’s.” Looking up, she saw a woman she hadn’t seen in quite some time enter. Kat Williamson, the granddaughter of Lillian Jacobs, who had come and gone from Heron’s Landing throughout her life. Grace had heard Kat had returned recently to help care for Lillian, who wasn’t doing well at the moment.
“Hi Ms. Williamson,” Grace said as she seated Kat. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Kat shook out the snow from her tight curls, currently worn in an afro that framed a smiling face. Kat stood out amongst the locals, with her hair, medium-brown skin, and penchant for brightly patterned clothes. Currently wearing black plastic glasses, she rubbed off the melted snow from the lenses before putting them back on.
“Grace, right?” Kat asked. “You can call me Kat, by the way. Calling me Ms. Williamson makes me think you’re talking to my mom.”
“Sure thing. It’s a habit I haven’t broken yet, the whole Mr. and Mrs. thing.”
Kat smiled, her dark brown eyes shining behind her glasses. “Being on the East Coast pretty much cured me of that. You call a woman Mrs. and you’ll get slapped with The Feminist Manifesto.”
Grace laughed. “I’ll make sure to remember that if I ever leave this town.”
Kat ordered a piece of cake with coffee, which Grace brought out to her. Seeing that no one else needed her, she couldn’t help but pepper Kat with questions. Although Kat wasn’t a new person like Joy had been, she was new enough in that she’d gotten out of Missouri and had met people who didn’t know what the Boot-heel meant or the difference between Kansas City and St. Louis.
“What are you doing now? I mean, job-wise?” Grace asked.
“I got a job at the elementary school, mostly as a computer teacher. I’m actually a computer programmer, but there isn’t a huge need for those around here. So I’m going to teach the children how to type.”
“That sounds…fun.”
Kat took a bite of her cake. “It should be something, I’ll say that. Although did you know a lot of schools have gotten rid of computer class? Which makes no sense, since we do everything on computers nowadays.”
Talking about computers reminded Grace of her adventure in Adam’s office today. Now a different kind of excitement filled her.
Trying to sound casual, she asked, “What kind of computer programming do you do? Like, could you hack into my computer and download all of my files?”
Kat sipped her coffee, her eyebrows raised. “Do you want me to hack into somebody’s computer?”
Yes, Eric O’Neill’s! “Oh, no, just curious.”
“Mmhmm, well, I’m not much for illegal hacking, but I won’t say that I couldn’t do it. Most people’s security systems are full of holes.”
Grace nodded eagerly. “My brother writes out his username and password on post-its that he leaves right next to his computer!”
Kat eyed her, but it was a curious look. “Yeah, things like that. There’s a reason why celebs keep getting their nudes leaked: they don’t realize how easy it is to hack into systems like the cloud, or their personal accounts.”
Grace heard the front door bell jingle. She looked up, greeting the couple coming in, and then said to Kat, “I need to take this, but let me know if you need anything else.”
Kat put her chin on her hand, smiling. “Of course.”
Grace didn’t get a chance to talk to Kat again beyond giving her the bill, which she paid in quarters. “My grandma made me break a twenty for her and gave me all of this change,” she said by way of explanation, shaking her head. “She told me I should use it to get a cup of coffee, even though a cup of coffee hasn’t been fifty cents since she was a kid.”
Grace pocketed her tip before placing the rest of the coins in the old-fashioned register. “Works for me. Have a good evening, Ms.—I mean Kat.”
Kat waved and headed out, winding a bright red scarf around her neck.
Grace walked home later that evening, everything swirling in her mind. Eric, the receipts, Kat, and, of course, Jaime. If she figured out this mystery, could they be together? Or would he give some stupid excuse and run again? Her shoulders slumped as she sighed.
When she heard the sound of a car coming down the road, she looked over her shoulder. Her breath caught. She’d recognize that truck anywhere, and the man driving it. It rolled to a stop when it reached her, and Jaime was there, opening the passenger door. “Want a ride?” he asked.
Grace was almost tempted to say no, but it was cold and dark and she really wished she had her gloves. So she climbed in, putting her hands up to one of the vents blasting hot air. “Thanks,” she said.
Jaime started driving again, and silence reigned between them. Then, without warning, he asked, “Did Eric ask you out?”
She froze. She turned to look at him, but it was too dark to see anything beyond his clenched jaw.
“How did you know he asked me out?”
“Does it matter? So it’s true?”
She had the strongest urge to punch him in the side. He told her they can’t be together, but if another guy asked her out, he got pissy? She wanted to bash her forehead against the truck’s console. Men were idiots!
“It’s none of your business, but yes, he did. It was months ago. I told him no. End of story.”
Jaime just gripped the steering wheel.
Grace sighed. A headache threatened to erupt, and she rubbed her temples. “Are you jealous or something?”
He flinched, then turned toward her. “What?” he asked.
“You don't get to dump me or whatever it is you did and then get mad that some other guy showed interest in me.” She leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes. “It’s dumb. And I don’t have time for it.”
Jaime didn’t reply, but when she felt him stop the truck, her eyes flew open. He was clenching and unclenching his hands from the steering wheel.
“I know it’s stupid,” he said in a low voice, “but everything about you makes me feel stupid.”
She frowned. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“No, I’m telling you that you make my life harder and it’s driving me crazy.”
“Uh, I’m sorry…?”
She watched as something seemed to snap inside of him. With a curse, he pulled her across the leather bench seat of the truck before sealing his mouth against hers.
She knew she should push him away. She knew how this would end. We can’t do this. And yet, kissing him, tasting him, feeling his arms around her? It felt like home. His tongue slicked inside her mouth, and she held onto his shoulders.
He was warm and solid and safe, and she had missed him.
“I told myself I’d stay away from you,” he said on a groan, unwinding her scarf and kissing her bare throat. “I said we couldn't do this. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you all this time. You’re like some kind of disease.”