Left to Chance

If I’d been at a Hester property, or back in San Francisco, I’d revel in my newfound time alone. I’d relax on a balcony or walk on a beach. I’d disguise myself as a guest and sit at the pool wearing a large floppy hat and dark sunglasses.

But now I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to go back to my room, or walk around Chance on my own. I didn’t want to call Annie and talk about work, and I couldn’t call Josie because she was at work. I wanted to talk with someone, not to someone. About anything. I had always been able to call Celia and just say, “What are you doing?” Her answer might have been anything from formulating a plan for world peace to folding the laundry, but it didn’t matter. We always parlayed into a conversation about anything, nothing, and everything at the same time.

I folded the thin newspaper and placed it on the table for the next customer. The door opened and Lorraine walked in, but without Cousin Maggie. She waved and walked to the counter. Steaming mug in hand, she sat at a table on the other side of the coffee shop. Lorraine wasn’t reading or talking on her phone or even gazing out the window or at the shelves full of mugs. I envied the peacefulness I presumed.

I approached Lorraine’s table, one hand in my pocket, one hand holding Shay’s abandoned cup. Lorraine smiled wide.

“Hi, Teddi. I hoped I’d see you again.”

“Me too.”

“Do you have time to sit?”

I nodded as I sat on the chair across from Lorraine. “How are you?”

“No complaints.”

“Glad to hear it.” I wished I could say the same thing. “Where’s Maggie today?”

“Today’s my day off. Maggie usually spends the day with her library friends.”

“She’s okay to do that?”

“Oh yes. I’m really just a companion for her. No one likes to be alone all the time.” I sipped the iced tea through the straw. I was going to float back to Nettie’s if I didn’t stop drinking tea soon. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“Not anymore. Shay was going to meet me here but she’s with her friends.”

“As it should be, at her age.” Lorraine stirred a honey stick into her tea.

“I guess. I was just looking forward to the company—not that you’re not very nice company, that’s not what I meant.”

We laughed.

“I didn’t think that’s what you meant, no worries. You’re welcome to sit with me as long as you like.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Oh, sometimes I wish people would intrude a little more. When I was growing up on St. Thomas, my family all lived close by and we just popped in on each other. The problem wasn’t having company, it was having time alone. And now everyone is too concerned with respecting personal space, so no one takes a chance. I’m glad you did.”

“Sometimes my personal space is just too spacious.”

Lorraine laughed and covered her mouth with her hand, as if she’d been taught that was ladylike. “That’s why I like spending my days with Maggie. She’s a tough nut, but she’s mine.”

“Do you live alone?”

“I do. I’m divorced and my daughters are grown. One lives in Philadelphia and the other lives in New York. I was just here, in Chance, working part time, and I realized I was alone too many hours every day. The Internet is not a sufficient replacement for a person.”

“No. And just being around other people isn’t the same thing as being with other people.”

“That’s why I agreed to spend time with Maggie. I like talking with her.”

“I never realized how much I relied on having someone to talk to all the time until I didn’t.”

“Celia.”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know her but I’ve heard that she was lovely.”

“She was.” I sipped as much tea as I could before I swallowed. “Losing her derailed me.”

“Of course it did.”

“And at the same time, it set me on the path I’m on today.”

“That’s a difficult thing to come to terms with.”

“It is.”

“You can talk to her, you know, even though she’s gone.”

I cocked my head, and inched my way back as I waited for Lorraine to convince me she was a psychic/clairvoyant/medium/good witch and that for the tidy sum of a zillion euros she could channel Celia right through the coffee beans.

“I don’t believe in that kind of thing.”

“In what kind of thing?”

“Spirits.”

“That’s neither here nor there. You can talk to her no matter what you believe.”

“I’m not a fan of cemeteries.”

“You’re overthinking this, Teddi. Just talk to her inside your head. You can do that anywhere. Right here, if you want. Go ahead. I’ll wait.”

I stared at Lorraine. “Um…”

“I’m kidding!” She laughed as she reached across the table and rubbed my arm. “Relax.”

“That’s the problem. I can’t relax. I feel like I really screwed things up and I’m too late to fix them.” I gathered my cup and napkin, and stood. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lay all this on you.”

“Sit. I don’t mind. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want, but stay. Unless you have somewhere you need to be.”

Lorraine and I sat in a companionable and soothing silence. The sounds of Perk simmered around us—the hiss of the espresso machine, the swoosh of the broom, the scrape of chairs as they were pushed into place.

“Since you have two daughters, can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course.”

I slid my chair closer to Lorraine’s.

“Shay’s only twelve, but I have to have a difficult conversation with her and I don’t even know how to start.”

“Are you sick?”

“No, why would you think I was sick?” Did I look sick? I thought I looked okay.

“She’s a little girl whose mother died. If you approach whatever this is by beating around the bush, she is going to think the worst. And it’s not the worst, is it?”

“No.”

“She’s been through the worst.”

“Yes, she has. Which is why I don’t want to make anything harder for her. And I don’t want her to hate me. I couldn’t stand it if she hated me.”

“Kids fling words around they don’t mean sometimes, remember that. They do it for effect. Be direct, but kind. And you can tell her it’s hard for you to talk about, that it’s not easy for you to disappoint her or upset her. For some reason teenagers think we enjoy making them miserable. Just ask your friend.” Lorraine tipped up her chin toward the door so I turned around.

Josie bounded through the door as if pushed by the wind. “I so need a latte.” She placed her briefcase, handbag, and shopping bags at my feet and hurried to the counter even though no one was trying to outmaneuver her.

“She’s a firecracker, that one,” Lorraine said.

“How do you know Josie? Oh, that’s a silly question.” I laughed at my own na?veté. Everybody knew Josie.

*

Perk’s tempo rose to meet the end of the day and the need for caffeine. Josie placed a plate of cookies in the middle of the table.

“What are these for?” I asked.

“Lorraine loves the lemon cookies here. I’m so glad you two met. Didn’t I tell you she was great?”

“Who?” I asked.

“Lorraine.”

“You didn’t tell me anything about Lorraine. We met the other day when I walked past my cousin Maggie’s house. And Lorraine was none too pleased at first, I might add.”

Lorraine smiled, and covered her mouth again.

“Then it was kismet!” Josie said.

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