Marriage For One

If there was one thing I wanted the most for Around the Corner—my coffee shop!—it was for it to be inviting, warm, and happy. Popular wouldn’t hurt anyone either. Even though I was well aware I was going to be the boss, I didn’t want to work with people I couldn’t get along with just because their resumés were impressive. If we were happy and friendly, I believed it’d have a different kind of pull for the customers, and Sally’s personality and cheerfulness checked all the boxes for me.

“You got it, boss.” She wiggled her newly found phone at me in goodbye and backed away toward the door. “Oh, when do you want me to come in again?”

I put the paint roller down and groaned as I straightened back up with my hand on my waist and gazed at my almost finished work. “I think I’ll be fine on my own this week, but I’ll text you for next week if I have a lot of stuff going on. Would that work for you?”

“Are you sure you don’t need help with the painting this week?”

“Yeah, I can handle it.” I just waved her off without turning because I didn’t think my body was capable of doing anything that complex at the moment. “I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“Got it. You be sure to go home before you drop dead.” With her lovely parting words, she unlocked the door and opened it. Before I heard it click shut, she called my name and I glanced at her over my shoulder, which took some serious effort on my part.

“Only two weeks or so now,” Sally said, grinning. “I’m so excited,” she squeaked, bouncing up and down.

I gave her a tired but genuinely happy smile and managed to pump my hand halfway into the air. We only had five years of age difference between us, but I was feeling every single one of the years I had on her. “Yes, definitely yay! You probably can’t tell from my face right now because I can’t move it much, but I’m excited too. Can’t wait. Woohoo.”

Her body disappeared behind the door, and all I could see was her head. “It’s gonna be great!”

“I’m crossing my fingers in my mind because I don’t think I can do it in real life.”

After she gave me an even bigger grin, her head disappeared too and the door slid shut. Since we’d boarded the windows up, I couldn’t see outside, but I knew it was already dark. Reaching for my phone in my back pocket proved to be harder than I’d expected, but I was able to check the time. I was pretty much moving in slow motion, but who needed speed on a Monday night?

Eight o’clock.

I knew I shouldn’t take a break, but my legs, feet, back, neck, arms, and everything in between were killing me. Left with no other choice, I slid down behind the counter, right where the cash register would be in just a few days, groaning and whimpering the entire time it took my ass to reach the ground. Then I dropped my head back with a loud thud and closed my eyes with a heavy sigh. Now, if I could only manage to get up, finish the last coat on the wall, and make sure I couldn’t see any damn red anymore, I could lock up then move my feet enough times to get to the subway so I could get home and step straight into the shower. If I didn’t drown myself in the shower, getting into my bed would be nice, too—and food. At some point, I’d need food.

Then it hit me again. If you ignored that I was dying a slow death from all kinds of aches, Sally was right—I was getting really close to the opening day. Ever since I had taken a job at a local coffee shop when I was eighteen, I knew I wanted to open my own place. Something that belonged just to me. Not only that, but it would also be where I belonged. And that would be a first as well. As cheesy as it sounded, there was something about the idea of my own place that had always lifted my heart when I daydreamed about it.

Just as I felt myself drifting off, the front door opening and closing with a soft click jolted me awake. I had completely forgotten that I hadn’t locked it after Sally left. Thinking she had left something behind, I tried to get up. When my legs didn’t want to cooperate, I had to get on my hands and knees with much effort and then held on to the counter to pull myself up.

“What did you forget?” I asked, and it came out half as a groan and half as a whimper.