If I close my eyes, I can envision her swaying to the beat of the music, a mug of fresh coffee in her left hand, a paintbrush in the right, as she squints at a blank canvas in her art studio. She always said Stevie Nicks helped her to see the art before she was able to paint it.
I look around the coffee shop, taking in the late-‘60s style with the collection of warm earthy colors and antique-style furniture that create an inviting feel. Anyone who steps inside The Groovy Bean feels as if they have stepped into a timemachine that serves amazing coffee. It’s become one of my favorite places in Covewood.
In front of me, I recognize August Banks’ long dark-brown hair worn in her usual low ponytail. She catches sight of me and waves. “Hey, Ryland. How are you?”
“As good as I can be,” I reply with a shrug.
She gives me a look that’s a mixture between understanding and pity. She opens her mouth to say something but is cut off by the sound of a bell and Grayson Topkins, the coffee shop owner, letting her know that her order is ready.
“How’s Jessie been? I haven’t seen him around lately.” I take a step toward the counter and wait for Grayson to return to take my order.
“He’s good. He went to stay with my sister, Samaira, last week during spring break. He’s back at the farm today, helping Dad with the goats.” She grabs a drink carrier, and I reach out a helping hand with the four drinks she ordered. She mutters, “Thanks,” as she balances the carrier in her arms.
“Farm work is always a good way of teaching kids responsibility,” I say, and she hums in approval. “We’ll have to get the kids together sometime. Annabelle has been wanting to play with Jessie, and your husband owes me some barbecue.”
She chuckles. “Yeah, about that. I’m pretty sure he mentioned something about you hosting a cookout soon. He must think that it’s your turn. And I’ve been wanting some of your famous smoked brisket.”
I grin and shake my head, knowing that Thomas is trying to get out of having to cook but not minding an excuse to host a gathering. It’s getting warm enough outside that cookout season can begin. “I do have a brisket in the freezer. I’ll check my schedule and see what I can throw together sometime soon.”
“Alright, that sounds like a plan, then. Maybe you could invite Raine Wiley to join us?” She gives me a knowing smile.
Of course the small-town gossip has made its way around.Earl called me late last night to inform me of Raine’s decision to take over the farmhouse renovations for him. I tried to ignore the jolt of excitement I felt at his words. I could hardly sleep last night and felt the tightness of nerves this morning with the anticipation of seeing her at the farm this morning.
“News travels fast around this town.”
“It does.” August nods in agreement. “How has she been?”
I shrug my shoulders for a second time, not sure how to answer her question since I haven’t seen Raine since the funeral. “I’ll find out in a few minutes.”
“Oh,” she replies with a sympathetic smile. “You should grab her a coffee, then. Coffee makes the day a little brighter.”
I hadn’t thought of that, but that would be nice. A peace offering. A let's-have-a-fresh-start coffee—if that’s even a thing. An idea strikes me, and I’m thankful to have a female friend to confide in right now.
“Yeah, okay. Do you think I should get her a muffin too? Maybe a gift card to use while she’s in town?” I’m rambling like an idiot. August’s smile spreads across her tanned skin, and she reaches out with her free hand to point at me.
“I have an idea!”
When I pull up to the farm an hour later, I see Raine’s white car in the driveway. There is a buzz of anticipation building inside my gut as I shut the truck door and do my best to cradle the gift basket in my hands.
August and I ventured to different small shops that line the downtown streets. She had the bright idea to put together a basket of things to show Raine what Covewood has to offer these days and to focus on items that could bring her some comfort during this time of grief. The town has grown a lotover the last ten years, and this basket will be a way to welcome her back, even though it’s only temporary.
I hope this will be a way that I can brighten her day, as I can only imagine how hard it has to be for her to be back at the farm without her grandparents living here. It still breaks my heart, remembering what Earl explained to me the night before about why he didn’t want to stay at the house any longer.
I make my way up the porch steps, and Raine turns to look at me, taking me in with her wide grayish-blue eyes. I do my best to contain my own expression as I refuse to admit the hurricane of emotions that is currently giving me whiplash as I take her in as well.
It’s weird seeing her here again. It was easier to be around her at the hospital, but being here on the farm, where so many of our past memories were created, has my head spinning with a weird sensation of deja vu.
She seems to be feeling the same way with how her light brows pinch together and her eyes dance around my face, searching for an answer to an unspoken question that is hidden within her stare. We stay silent for a long moment, both looking like we want to say something, but neither of us knowing where to go from here.
“Hi,” I finally say to break the deafening silence, taking in just how familiar her eyes are, yet reminding my brain that everything else about her is unfamiliar.
Proceed with caution,my heart warns me.
“Hi,” she repeats back to me suspiciously and looks at the basket in my hands.
I take the few steps between us and set the basket on top of the table she’s sitting at. I hold up a finger before she can say something and jog back to my truck to retrieve the coffees that I picked up before I drove here. I’m thankful I decided to wait so that the coffee would still be hot by the time I arrived.
I make my way back to her, giving her a nervous smile as I place the coffee into her hands and attempt toignore the way my skin buzzes at the feel of her fingertips grazing my own. I take a step back to give us some space and bring my cup of coffee toward my lips, giving my shaking hands something to do.
