TWENTY YEARS LATER
Jon: She saved your high school essay on feminism.
Evie: Really?
Jon: How did you get a B+? It’s so bad.
Evie: LOL. I made Frankie write it.
Evie: How’s that for feminism?
Jon: A+ Girl.
I couldn’t help but snort. Frankie hadn’t been the sharpest knife in the drawer. Evelyn could have written the paper herself and gotten an A without effort. I’m sure she did it as revenge for when he kissed Kitty during the basketball playoffs. She had a knack for taking things a little too far. This was one of our longest conversations outside of tragedy-related reunions. Who knew, maybe this would be the start of… anything? With Mimi gone, I needed some sort of connection with the last member of my family.
“What’s got you in a good mood?” Rita plopped down in a chair on the other side of the table. Since I sat down, she had busied herself behind the counter, changing filters and grinding coffee. Thanks to her, the cafe smelled wonderful. Rita scooted a small plate with a rustic donut covered in a gooey honey glaze.
“Twenty-year-old sisterly revenge.”
I leaned in and sniffed the donut. Fresh. Homemade. If I didn’t know better, Rita was hitting on me… or trying to fatten me up.
“I didn’t order?—”
“They were Mimi’s favorite. It’s on the house.”
Starting in fifth grade, I spent my summers in Firefly Valley. I hated it. Their idea of fun included Bingo, gardening, porch sitting, and gossip. On paper, this town should have been the antithesis of fun. Mimi didn’t know how to not have a good time. She screamed victory during Bingo, slashed at bushes with a machete, shared whisky on the porch, and told me everybody’s dirty secrets. Mimi made Firefly a home away from home.
“I have two sisters. You want to see madness?” I didn’t need to ask. The residents of Firefly were obscenely informal and over-shared to a degree that bordered on pathological. I loved them. “Three preteens fighting for the bathroom. Or worse yet, trying to decide which station we’d listen to on the radio. Dad almost called off our vacation after that madness.”
Yup. Perfect Firefly moment. I took a bite of the donut. “Rita.” I resisted, but my eyes rolled back in my head, and Ilet out a low moan. Were donutgasms a thing? When I went for my second bite, barely done with the first, I’m pretty sure me and this confectionary delight would need to get a room.
“You are definitely her grandchild.” Rita stood up, laughing as she patted my shoulder. “Thought she writhed on the floor the first time she had a bite.”
I continued eating, imagining my grandmother moaning as she slid from her chair. If Mimi had a dating profile, it’d read, “Over the top, drama queen with no limits. Laughter a must. Shenanigans required. Have bail money ready. Not for the weak.” The donut might have been delicious, but the real treat was Rita putting that image in my head.
“You know…” She turned around behind the counter. “She’s the reason I opened the coffee shop. She invited me over for the most dreadful cup of coffee of my life.” Sounded accurate. “Next time, I brought coffee and donuts. She made a joke about peddling it out of the trunk of my car.”
My heart doubled in size. I knew Mimi was a wonderful woman with wit sharp as a tack. Hearing somebody sing her praises reminded me that her legacy lived on. If she were here, she’d be taking chances, living life to the fullest. Fine. I took my cue from her.
I reached for my phone.
Jon: Hey, it’s Jon from the other night.
I stared at the text, unsure if it sent the right message. Hey, it was fun making out, and you give a stellar handjob didn’t quite feel appropriate. Did I ask him out? I still hadn’t placed his face, and now that I thought about it, I never asked his name. They needed to add a chapter on impulsive behavior in the Gay Man’s Guide to Dating. Would hitting the send button be the start of another disappointing romance that ended with me devouring chocolate and watching the Romance Channel?
Nope, Mimi would say live without regrets. I pressed send. Swoosh.
Ding.
He replied? I looked at my phone, confused. When I didn’t see a reply, I turned around, donut in hand, still chewing. Sitting in the far corner of Rita’s coffee shop, I spotted my unnamed hottie holding his phone. If not for the sugary goodness, I’d have dropped my jaw.
He held up a finger. Going back to his phone, he furiously typed. Swoosh.
Unknown: Hold on, there’s a sexy bear who’s got my attention.
Jon: How sexy?
Unknown: I’d follow him into the bathroom and give him a handie.
