“I…thank you?” I say, not sure about the chakra thing.
The girl’s young, with long, honey blond hair and woven hemp bracelets around her wrists. Turquoise stones hang from her ears. Her nametag reads JESSA, and below in marker, she’s written NAMASTE. “I can feel that your energy is in need of healing,” she says, smiling sweetly. “I can try a little Reiki on you, but I’m afraid it might be too punishing for your aura right now.”
“Eh, I’m okay. Can I just get a refill on my coffee?” I ask, putting down my empty cup. She places her hand above my head, closes her eyes, and inhales deeply.
“You’re a traveler wending her way through life. It’s my privilege to offer sustenance on your journey.” She floats away to get the coffee. I’m not sure how PC her moccasins are, but I’m not going to give her a hard time about it.
The door opens behind me, bell tinkling as a customer enters. Callie walks over, rolling the twins in their tandem stroller. I wave at Lily, who’s got her whole fist in her mouth. She waves back, gleefully. Callum shakes a ring of plastic keys with huge enthusiasm.
“Sorry I’m late, Cal spit up and I had to give him the fastest change known to man. Clark Kent has nothing on me.” Callie slides in, and Jessa brings us our coffee. Callie raises her eyebrows. “Hey, I didn’t know you were on shift today,” she says, reaching up and hugging Jessa. The hippie girl kisses her cheek.
“You two know each other?” I ask, surprised. Jessa and Callie don’t seem the type to run in the same circles. Maybe Jessa helped her with a homebirth?
“We’re sisters,” Callie says, shrugging. “Jessa was our parents’ later life miracle baby.”
“I think it’s so beautiful that I was chosen to bridge the final gap in our family, one they didn’t even know was there,” Jessa says, smiling dreamily. “It’s also beautiful to think of middle aged people, whose desires are suppressed by society, still engaged in passionate coupling.”
“Not so great when the people in question are your parents,” Callie says, making a grossed out face. “Jess, can I have a short stack please?”
“With my blessing.” Jessa’s serene expression gets excited when she spies her niece and nephew. “Hello little numbkins!” Jessa gets on her knees and makes smoochie faces before leaving to get the order started.
“So. How’d it go yesterday? Is my brother Hollywood ready?” Callie leans forward, all excitement.
“Well, we’ve got to finish up the sizzle reel.” I force myself not to check my watch. Time is money, Flint. Where are you? “Then we hop a plane back to LaLa land, do the pitch in person. The executives fawn over the rugged man of the east, we sign our contracts, and the deal is pretty much done.” I’m making that all sound a lot easier and more guaranteed than it is, but screw it. I need to believe it’s that simple. There are no back up plans. I’ve Rory Gilmore’d it to the max and applied only to the top three Ivies in the country. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
“Sizzle reel. Los Angeles. Damn, I wish I could do all the legwork for Flint and go out there myself.” She throws her head back and laughs, the kind of frazzled laughter you sometimes hear from overtired moms. I realize she has a few Cheerios in her hair, and try to think of a way to tactfully bring that up.
The door opens again, and Flint’s body fills the doorway. It takes all my available willpower to keep from drooling onto my placemat. He’s got on a fitted denim shirt today, one that hugs his sculpted torso in all the right places, with the top few buttons undone. How does this man make even denim sexy?
“Ready?” he says to me. Has he got an actual Thermos of coffee in his hand? He doesn’t even look tired, the bastard.
“Ready. I’ll get the eggs to go,” I say, rising, but Flint waves me down.
“I’ll handle it. Jessa gets a little flighty sometimes.” He walks over, and his little sister immediately flings her arms around him. I smile. Normally, big guys like Flint—from my limited experience, of course—tend to be a bit awkward around women. It’s that sort of he-man, big muscles, ‘man things, you wouldn’t understand’ type thing. But Flint seems to really love his sisters. He swings Jessa up in an easy hug while she giggles, then chats casually as he waits by the counter.
“Flint’s a good one,” Callie says, smiling fondly at her brother.
“A little gruff at first, but you get used to it,” I say. Callie laughs.
“He was never a big talker.” She sighs. “I think this show is the best thing that could happen for him. He’s been brooding for a while now.”
“What’s he got to brood about?” I ask. “The hardware business?”