Afterthoughts: A Charity McAdams Novella (The Charity McAdams Novellas)

Dedication:

To my sister: you are my best friend and you have
waited a long time for this one!

Thank you for always being my number one fan.

“He what?”
M
y best friend, Ashley, demands.

“He’s not coming,” I repeat, softly.

“You mean right now, he’s not coming right now. He’s running late?”

“No, Ash, he’s not coming ever. The wedding is off.” I can’t meet her gaze. I look past her shoulder and see the reflection of my wedding dress in the mirror above my dresser. My head is spinning and it feels hard to breathe. I feel like I should say something else but nothing comes out.

“What? Charity, when did this happen? What happened? Everything was fine at the rehearsal, wasn’t it?”

I nod slowly. “It was after that, after the rehearsal. We argued and he called it off. He said he can’t do it, he can’t marry me.”

I feel tears well up as I replay that line in my head. I can still picture his face and the tears on his cheeks as he said it.

Ashley is silent for a moment and takes my hand.

“Have you talked to him today? Maybe he just needed time to cool down. You guys have had arguments before. You always work it out.”

“Not this time, Ash. It’s different.”

I start to explain but there is a knock at the door. Ashley rises from her perch on the edge of my bed and goes to answer it. My heart stops at the hope that it might be Brandon at the door.

It’s not.

It’s my mom with a tray full of cookies and tea. Since breaking the news to her this morning she hasn’t quite known what to do with herself. She has already called all the important people (the florist, caterer, minister, musicians) this morning to cancel everything.

Ashley takes the tray from her. They exchange a few whispered words and then close the door again.

“What did she say?” I ask.

“She’s just worried, wants to know how you’re holding up.”

I nod, trying not to cry again. I wish I could go back in time and figure out what went wrong. Then maybe I would be wearing my wedding dress instead of just staring at it hanging on the wall. 

One lonely little croissant sits
in the front case. Not just any croissant, a chocolate filled one with little toasted almond slivers on top and a l
ight dusting of powdered sugar.

I sigh and alternate my glance between the clock on the wall and the pastry.
There are only ten minutes to closing and then I would just end up having to throw it away,
I negotiate with myself silently.

My nutrition-savvy side eventually wins out and I go back to sweeping the floors of the small café, leaving the dessert
safely locked away. There haven’
t been a
ny
customer
s
for the last hour, unless you count
Mrs. Sev
ille who comes in every
Friday
to ask why we don’t serve gourmet dog biscuits yet. She never buys anything, just hauls her little, shivering
Malti
-Poo in
to the store (disregarding the “
No A
n
imals P
ermitted
”
sign the owner
put up specifically for her) and when I brea
k the news that we still haven’
t invested in gourmet animal treats she rolls her eyes, “harrumphs” and leaves, muttering unrepeatable things under her breath as she goes.

Once I tried to humor her with a milk bone…let’s just say that did not go over so well.

I sweep a small pile of crumbs and paper straw wrappers into the dustpan and empty it into
the trash can at the front of the shop
. I pause at the glass doors long enough to see my best friend,
Ashley
, running d
own the street towards the café
. I smile as I swing open one of the doors
for her
.

“Where’s the fire
,
Ash
?” I joke as she tumbles inside and flops against the
counter. I know
that’s
just how she is, full steam ahead. The only time she slows down is when she is designing and crafting the jewelry for her website based business she runs from home.

“I
wanted to make sure I got my mocha before you shut off the machine.” She smiles and then I watch as her gaze falls to the croissant.

I
shoulda
known.

“Gotcha covered,” I say as I pull a large, insulated cup from behind the espresso machine.

“You are an angel
,
Charity
,
” She declares before taking a gulp.

I wince, wondering how anyone can drink hot coffee like that without burning off all their taste buds.

“Yeah, yeah.
Wanna
split that croissant with me?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her mischievously. “I’ve been eyeing it for the last hour. If we split it maybe my hips won’t
notice.
”

Ashley
laughs and nods her head. “You’re so good. I would have devoured th
e whole thing before I got here. N
o competition that way.”

I know how
Ashley
eats
,
and long ago came to the conclusion that her body turns a blind eye to all the junk she feeds it. Her hips and thighs don’t seem to rebel against the constant sugar i
ntake. I make the girls’ coffee. S
he likes it
with
full fat milk and extra whip
cream,
and
with
little
chocolate sprinkles if they are available.

I pull the tray from the case and divide the pastry on two napkins and slide one half to
Ashley
.
“Well, if I was a size two, like you, I probably would have eaten the whole thing.”

Ashley
shrugs as she polishes off her half of the pastry in two bites. “Maybe I’m just h
oping some of this will make its way to my boobs! Let’s face it
Charity
, I’d have to pay twenty grand to get a rack like yours!”

I glance down at my chest for a moment and we both
burst out laughing. I roll my eyes at her and say, “On that note…are you ready to blow this
popsicle
stand? I think
I’m just about done with everything here.”

“Ready when you are,
”
she declares
, brushing her hands off and taking the final sip of her coffee.

I look around the café and run through my mental checklist. Machine cleaned? Check.
Dishwasher running?
Check. Till counted and locked in the safe? Check. Desserts put away? I
pop the last bite of croissant in my mouth.
Check.

I snatch the shops k
eys off the hook in the back,
put on my raincoat
,
and grab my purse.

“
Sooo
…
are you ready for your big date
?” I hear
Ashley
call from the front.

I pause and feel heat rising in my cheeks.
I’ve
been dating James for close to nine months and things are getting pretty serious but I still feel a little flushed when he is brought up
in conversation. It’
s been a long time since my last serious relationship and sometimes I still feel like the whole
dating
thing is brand new.

Ashley
has her own ideas though. She is fairly convinced that tonight James is going to propose to me. I have told her repeatedly that i
t’
s not goin
g to happen, and even though I’
m pretty sure I am
right (
and that she is completely out of her mind
) the idea is a little disconcerting.

“
Ash
, for the last time, he’
s not going to propose,” I declare, rounding the corner and leading us outside. I turn and lock the door behind us and we start down the street towards my car.

“
Charity
, get real, you’ve
been datin
g for nine mont
hs, you’v
e met each other’s parents
, and he said
that
tonight he wants to take you to
a big fancy restaurant
and talk about something important. What else could it possibly be?!”

She’s practically bouncing.

We get in the car and I cast a sidelong glance at her. S
he might be my best friend but that does not mean she cannot make me absolutely crazy from time to time. This is one of those times…

“I don’t know what he wants to talk about but all this speculation is just making
me itch!” I say
, probably a little harsher that I intended.

Ashley
tu
rns to look at me but I keep
my eyes on the road, pretending not to notice her. “You don’t want him to propose.”

It
isn’t
a qu
estion.
More of realization.

I sigh
. “I just think it would be too fast. That’s all.”

“This is about Brandon, isn’t it?
” She fires
back.

“No, it’
s not. Now w
hat store do y
ou want to go to first?” I ask
, desperately hoping to change the topic.
Ashley
can be like
a dog with a bone but if there’
s one thing
that can get her off track
,
it’
s shopping.
Especially for clothes.
About a week ago, when James had
asked me to go to
dinner with him, we had raided my
closet to find the perfect outfit
and
Ashley
had decided that nothing I own is suitable for such a restaurant.
Proposal or no proposal.
So I had agreed to let her take me shopping for something more fashionable.

“Nice try, McAdams,”
Ashley
says
. “We’
ll go to Macy’s first. Now please explain to me why being proposed t
o by a handsome business man, that
knows how to cook
,
would be the end of the world?”

I roll
my eyes. “I’m not saying it would be the end of the
world. In fact, I never said I
don’t
want
to marry James. All I said was that I think it would be too soon to get engaged.”