Page 21 of For My Finale

B lossom wiped her hands on her apron as she moved behind the counter, then pulled a tray of used cups and plates towards herself so she could begin piling them into the sink.

The morning had been steady, and she was grateful for the business.

She was grateful for every single customer at this point.

She’d just started running the hot water when the door jingled and Daisy bounced in, her red Royal Mail jacket unzipped over a t-shirt that said “I Brake for Tea.” She pulled a cap off her head and beamed at Blossom.

“Afternoon!”

“Afternoon, Daze. What can I get you? The usual?”

“Yes, please. It’ll have to be a quick one though, I’ve got a lot on today. But I had to come in, because I had to tell you.”

Blossom felt her stomach dip. Surely not? Daisy was always up to date on the latest gossip, but surely no one had found out about her and Lilah yet? How could they? Well, other than the fact that Lilah had been in just this morning and the cafe had big windows and…

“Bloss?” Daisy said. “You alright?”

Blossom, not trusting herself to speak, nodded.

“So, like I was saying, I saw a bunch of blokes carrying all the furniture in.”

“In where?” Blossom asked. This conversation was not heading in the direction she’d thought it was heading in.

“Into Coffee-To-Go,” Daisy said impatiently. “All fancy looking tables and big comfy chairs. Looks like they’re getting ready to open any day now.”

Blossom swallowed, her mouth dry. She’d known this was coming, of course, but hearing it out loud like this, hearing it in real words, it just made it all more concrete. “So they’re close to finishing, eh?” she said, trying to keep her voice light.

Daisy shrugged. “Dunno. I’m no expert. But they look like they’re moving fast. Wouldn’t be surprised if they were open in a week or two.”

Blossom had to swallow again, had to get some moisture into her mouth. She’d hoped for a bit more time than that. Time to get a more solid plan, time to save just a little more. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the faint hissing sound behind her.

“Um, Bloss?” Daisy’s voice was hesitant. “Is that supposed to be doing that?”

“Is what supposed to be doing what?” she asked, only half paying attention.

“The machine, is it supposed to be doing that?”

“What machine?” asked Blossom.

Daisy’s eyes had widened. “I think the coffee machine’s on fire,” she yelped.

“Oh, hell.” Blossom turned and lunged to yank the plug out of the wall. Smoke stopped rising from the coffee machine. But the acrid smell of burned plastic lingered in the air.

“That’s not good,” Daisy said.

Blossom groaned and rubbed her face. “No, it’s not.”

AN HOUR LATER, a mechanic from the next town over was crouched in front of the machine, tools laid out on the counter beside him. Blossom stood with her arms crossed, watching as he poked and prodded at the inner workings of her beloved, if temperamental, espresso machine.

“Well?” she asked, heart pounding.

The mechanic sighed, rubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw. “I can fix it,” he said. “But it won’t be cheap. Parts alone will run you a fair bit, but with labor added…” He shook his head. “Honestly? You’d be better off just buying a new one.”

Blossom’s stomach sank. It was just as she’d feared. “How much are we talking?”

He gave her a rough estimate, and she had to concentrate so as not to choke. It would cost almost everything she was getting from the bank loan. She’d been so careful with money, stretching out what she could, but a new coffee machine hadn’t been in the budget.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath.

“Sorry, love,” the mechanic said, standing up and wiping his hands on a rag. “I know it’s a tough hit. Want me to leave you a quote, just in case?”

Blossom nodded, barely able to muster any words.

After he left, she stood behind the counter, staring at the now useless machine. This was the worst possible timing. Coffee-To-Go was gearing up to open, and here she was with no coffee machine. The best she could do was sell drip coffee until she figured out a way to get a new machine.

She could look for a second-hand one online, she supposed.

But in the meantime, there was no way she could compete.

She sighed and leaned against the counter. Could this day get any worse?

The door jingled again, and for a fleeting moment, she hoped it might be Lilah. Maybe the actress would stroll in with her confident smirk, cracking jokes, making everything better.

But it wasn’t Lilah. It was the coffee delivery man. And he was holding a bill.

Blossom forced herself not to say anything about her continuing bad luck. It looked like she was just jinxing herself.

BLOSSOM KNOCKED ON Lilah’s door and pushed it open when she saw smoke creeping out from under it. The smell of burned tomatoes hit her first. But she didn’t get the full impact of the disaster until she was standing in the kitchen doorway.

Tomato passata dripped down the front of the stove.

A pot lay overturned on the floor, its contents long since spilled and congealing into an unfortunate mess.

Strands of pasta hung unbelievably from the ceiling like pale, sticky streamers.

And the sink was piled high with bowls, knives, cutting boards, and what looked a little like a pair of garden secateurs.

Everything was smeared in various shades of red.

At the center of it all stood Lilah, holding a wooden spoon like a weapon, her hair falling out of its bun, her face wearing a somewhat harrowed expression.

“Okay,” Lilah said, sweeping an arm at the disaster around her. “In my defense, I had to work a shift at the pub this afternoon, and I was trying to make something nice.”

Blossom pressed her lips together. It was kind of funny, but she wasn’t sure Lilah would think so. “You murdered dinner.”

Lilah sighed dramatically. “I did. But in fairness, dinner deserved it. It was… uncooperative.”

Blossom surveyed the wreckage and then stepped forward, rolling up her sleeves. “Come on, let’s fix it.”

Together, they worked side by side, scrubbing and tidying as they went, until Lilah’s tiny kitchen was somewhat normal again and Blossom had filled Lilah in on her afternoon. Then they restarted dinner, this time with Blossom supervising.

Lilah chopped vegetables while Blossom handled the sauce and the pasta water.

“I have to admit that things go slightly better when we’re doing this together,” Lilah said.

“Slightly?” asked Blossom.

“Fine. Much. You could probably have done it alone, though.”

“I could,” shrugged Blossom. “But it’s easier with another pair of hands.”

“So what now?” asked Lilah, as the delicious smell of simmering tomato sauce and garlic filled the air. “You’re just going to throw the towel in with the cafe?”

“I’ve got no coffee machine,” said Blossom. “And with Coffee-To-Go opening so soon, it’s tough to justify buying a new one.”

“So you give up?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Take this as motivation to do better, get bigger,” said Lilah.

“Easy for you to say. You’re confident, you can do anything,” Blossom said.

Lilah turned her, taking her hands. “And you can’t?” she asked softly. “I think you can. In fact, I think you can do anything you set your mind to.”

Blossom swallowed hard. Lilah wasn’t just saying that. It was plain from the look on her face that she really did believe it. But she didn’t get a chance to say anything. There was a bubbling and then a hissing noise as the pasta started to boil over.

“Crap!” Lilah turned, grabbing for the pot and then yanking her hand back when it proved too hot to touch. Blossom quickly turned the stove off.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” Lilah said, shaking her hand. Then she glanced up at the clock on the microwave. “But we’re about to be late for rehearsal.”

Blossom groaned. “I’m starving, and we went to so much trouble.”

Lilah grabbed two bowls and began scooping pasta into them. “So?” she said. “We’ll eat on the way.”

“We’ll what?”

“Eat on the way,” Lilah repeated, sloshing sauce over the pasta and handing Blossom a bowl.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“And yet brilliant,” said Lilah, giving her a fork. “Come on.”

With a resigned sigh, Blossom made sure the stove was completely off, then followed.

They walked down the path toward the village, balancing bowls of pasta as they ate.

“This is a first for me,” Blossom said, twirling a forkful of spaghetti.

“Eating and walking?” asked Lilah.

“Eating dinner out of a bowl whilst walking through the village like a lunatic,” corrected Blossom.

“Gotta keep life interesting,” Lilah smirked, lifting her fork up to her mouth.

Blossom took a bite and chewed, looking over at Lilah. The woman beside her had barreled into her life, creating chaos and laughter and something else, something too young to name yet. But Blossom couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this good, despite all the cafe problems.

Maybe Lilah was onto something. Maybe things weren’t as impossible as she thought.

As they reached the village hall, Blossom took one last bite and swallowed, scraping her dish clean.

Lilah nudged her with an elbow. “You good?”

Blossom straightened her shoulders. “Yes,” she said, sounding incredibly sure. “Yes, actually, I think I am.”

Because if she could kiss Lilah Paxton, maybe she really could do anything.