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FATE AND MEATBALLS

STELLA

Walking into the cozy little café after my meeting with the girls, I take a deep breath, taking in the smell of coffee and baked goods.

“Girl, you look like you need a little something yummy in your life,” a chipper voice from the behind the counter says. Smiling, I give Hazel a little wave and head her way.

“Hey, lady! That’s exactly what I need.” I notice the café has cleared out a bit, and with it being almost three, Hazel is getting ready to close down for the day.

“Did you just come from HEA?” Hazel asks while she pulls out a large plastic cup.

“Sure did.” I scan the display counter to see what sweets are left.

“Did they try to get you to join the force?” Hazel leans forward, her arms resting on the glass.

I raise my brow. “What do you think?” I ask, deadpan.

She laughs. “Gotta give ’em credit. The two of ’em don’t back down.” She’s shaking her head with a grin. “What will it be today? Coffee or bubbly?”

“I need one of those tropical fizzy energy bomb things you don’t have on the menu yet,” I tell the woman who has quickly become a good friend.

“Coming right up. And pick out a dozen of whatever. I’ll box them up, and you can take them to Harps and Lillybean.” She gets to making my drink.

Hazel Allen is the manager of Sweet Wave, and honestly, the woman runs this place with her eyes closed. She bakes the sweets in the case, and she is responsible for some of the most delicious café drinks in the city.

She’s known my sister for a few years now, and has been babysitting Lilly when Harper needs her. But it’s a small world that she was already great friends with Cass and Lay since they are in the same building.

A couple of years younger than me, Hazel is stunning with her red hair and freckles. She’s as sweet as the treats she makes, and like Cass, she always has a smile on her face.

I decide on a few brownies, lemon bars, and giant chocolate chip oatmeal cookies as Hazel hands me my drink.

“How much are you gonna charge for this liquid gold?” I pull my wallet out of my camera bag.

“Not sure yet. But it’s on the house,” Hazel says, folding together a white bakery box.

“Sure, but I also know you’re not gonna charge me for the sweets, so I’m just keeping a tally of how many free photo shoots you get when you finally own this place,” I tell her as I shove a ten dollar bill in the tip jar.

She sighs a dreamy little sigh. “Someday.”

“It’ll happen,” I say confidently. She nods.

“I know Lilly wants brownies. What else?” She goes to work putting the sweets in the box as I suck down my pre-game energy drink.

“What are you up to tonight?” I ask Hazel.

Her face lights up. “Oh! I scored last minute seats to Disney on Ice tonight. I’m taking Harper and Lillybean. Have you not talked to Harp?”

I shake my head. “No, I haven't. I texted her a few minutes ago, but she hasn’t replied. That sounds like so much fun. Lilly is gonna die. I’m assuming she doesn’t know yet?” I’m not at all jealous of not getting to go to Disney on Ice. I suppress a shiver.

“Oh totally. The girl is gonna freak. One of my regulars who works at the radio station stopped in this morning and told me the winner of their contest never claimed the tickets. They me if I wanted them.” She tapes up the box.

“Was he flirting?” I chuckle.

“Uh, he’s like twenty year’s older than me.” She scrunches her nose.

“So he wanted in your pants.” I snort.

She can’t fight the smile and starts nodding. “Probably.”

“You’re gonna have to do something about these crushes, Hazel. Between the kid you’ve got working in the mornings and now this old dude, you’re gonna need a boyfriend or at least start going on dates with them.”

Hazel glares at me while she wipes down the counter. “You hush. It’s not my fault. I’m not asking for this attention. And I don’t string anyone along. I make it very clear I’m not interested but grateful all the same.”

I believe every word she’s saying. She’s so genuine; it’s hard not to have a crush on the woman. I’m one hundred percent into men, but even I have a crush. It’s gotta be the brownies and coffee.

“So what are you gonna do with your quite night off?” she asks.

“I’m going out,” I announce. Set on the fact that, despite the fact that I’m as independent as they come, I’m not one to go out by myself on the lookout for a one-night stand. This is a new thing for me. I’m oddly excited.

“Niiiice,” she says, drawing out the word. “Where?”

“Well, that’s the million-dollar question,” I tell her.

“There’s this super cute bar in Fleter’s Place—it’s called The Trading Post. It’s family-owned, and it’s not uppity, but it’s also not a hole-in-the wall. You’d like it,” she tells me as she glances at the clock.

“What’s the clientele look like?” I ask. I’ve got a goal, for goodness’ sake.

“Oh, I’ve seen a good amount of sexy single men there.” She winks at me as she walks to the door, closes it, and flips the switch on the neon open sign.

“Sold.” I raise my drink in that air. “Alright. I’m gonna get going so you can get out of here.” I adjust the camera bag slung across my body and pick up the box of goodies.

“Right. I need to get my prince makeup on, glitter and all.” She giggles.

“Better you then me,” I tell her as I wave good bye.

“Hey, hope you find what you’re looking for tonight, love!” She sing-songs as I walk out the door.

I shoot her a peace sign over my shoulder. I have to walk a good block to the lot that I parked in, so I enjoy the August sun on my face.

As I get to my car, I hear my phone ding from in my bag. I peek at my watch to see it’s Harper. The message takes over the screen.

Harper:

Hazel got Lilly tickets to Disney on Ice tonight. So we won’t be home. Got plans?

I texted her on my way out of HEA and asked what she had planned tonight. I’m not about to go out for the night if she needs me. Truthfully, besides monthly girls’ nights and occasional dinners out with the girls, I haven’t really gone out much in the six months I’ve been here.

I reach my car and get in before pulling out my phone to reply.

Me:

I just talked to Hazel. She told me all about it. How exciting!

I’m gonna go out tonight.

Harper responds immediately.

With…

Me, myself, and I

Really? No wing women?

The only single women I have in my life right now are going to Disney on Ice tonight….

Facts.

So does this mean you’re on the prowl?

Ew.

Harper: Searching for a tall drink of water?

Stop.

Looking for a situationship?

Absolutely not.

Hoping to get bibbidi-bobbidi-boo’d?

Blocked.

Thirst-trapping?

I’m done with this conversation.

Hitting the streets in search of your one-night prince?

I will actually call Mom.

Relax. Just trying to help you manifest a man.

Manifest your silence.

I toss my phone in the seat next to me and start my car. I hear the beeps to her replies, but I’m ignoring her. I’ve always loved my sister, but damn, she annoys me sometimes.

I need to get her to go out to a bar with me.

If anyone needs a good lay, it’s her. She says she’s not ready to start dating, and I’m not exactly suggesting she should, heck, I think she’d be smart to not get into anything serious—for her sake and Lilly’s.

I know she’s going to fall in love again someday.

But that someday isn’t today. Or tomorrow.

I fear she’s going to follow in my father’s footsteps.

The only reason she hasn’t gotten into a new relationship yet is because she’s been holding out hope that the deadbeat baby daddy, Ryan, will finally decide he wants to be part of their lives.

But that isn’t happening. And now that she has finally realized that, I think she will start looking for love.

Again.

Love is a short-term illusion. Some people buy into it, some of us know better.

Like my mom.

She and my dad split when I was fifteen.

While the divorce wasn’t all that surprising, it was long, drawn-out, and definitely messy.

They fought over everything. My mom claims my father was the love of her life, yet they rarely got along in the last years of their marriage.

If two people once loved each other enough to get married and have children, why did they turn their split into a shit show?

Once they were officially done with each other, instead of my mom finding herself, picking herself back up, and putting the pieces together, she stayed broken. She was depressed, she never dated, and she hated my father with a passion. It was emotional whiplash.

She would demand updates after we spent time with our father. She would get extremely angry that he was dating, and then she would spend days crying.

It took a good five years for her to resemble a small piece of the woman I remember to be growing up.

I love my mom very much, but our relationship is difficult.

She never remarried. She claims she will never love another, but honestly, I just want her to get over it.

Move on. But she’s my mom, so I bite my tongue.

My father, on the other hand…

Well, he’s a real gem. He’s on marriage number five. After the first two—after his divorce from mom—I told him I wasn’t interested in being in his weddings any more. He thought I was crazy. “This one will stick, Stella. She’s the love of my life.”

Right.

I haven’t even met wife number five. They eloped in Mexico three months ago.

So while I’ve had my eyes wide open to the fact that falling in love is just a recipe for heartbreak and marriage means nothing, my sister has always had stars in her eyes.

She never married Ryan. I knew the moment I met him that he was no good for her.

But she was in love. It took six years of him coming and going as he pleased—and finally ghosting her for good—before she finally broke through his mind games.

But I know her; she’s going to fall in love again, and I fear it will end in more heartache.

I suppose it’s my job as her big sister to be there for her when the inevitable happens.