"Click."
The lights in the dust hazed cafe sprang to life. The incandescent glow danced throughout, bringing life into the well-worn leather-backed chairs and implements of daily pleasure that were soon to occupy with the local Businesspeople, mothers on their way to daycare, and dozens of other occupations that subsisted as denizens of her tiny town. Soon, the hustlers and bustler's, the "busybodies" of everyday life would file in to partake in their morning ritual of hot coffee, polite conversation, and mostly fresh bakery.
Making her way down the corridor that formed her cramped working space, Anna inspected the refrigerated case of pastries and tapped the glass every so often to remind herself that the transparent vessel was indeed tangible.
Life didn't move fast in her small town. Not very fast at all.
Just the way Anna liked it.
Of Anna's twenty-six years, she had spent a significant portion of them in this daily ritual of sunrise to sunset. There was a time when she fancied living in a more exotic locale, but the days of sunbathing and beach bumming were behind her.
Anna always seemed to find her center here in her hometown.
There was a comfort to it, the sounds of laughter and the delightful aroma of fried foods hanging in the warmth of the summer carnival.
The familiar and welcoming faces of Anna's neighbors and friends passing up and down the one way street on a Sunday afternoon. The way the warm August nights caressed her naked skin through the open bedroom window as Autumn worked to coax summer nights into the slumber of winter. The long, late-night conversations by the lake while the moon-drenched midnight air danced across the dark Pines.
She loved it all.
This is where she belonged.
Finishing her short tour of the aging cafe, she let out a sigh of contentment. Soon the vinyl "Sorry, we're closed." placard would be flipped and her day of smiles and stories would begin. These moments would be the last issue of silence heard by the rough oak walls until the orange and black sign dangling cockeyed in the entryway reversed and was tucked back in for the night.
One final cursory scan of the muted end tables stacked precariously with faded children's books left Anna satisfied that all was as it should be. She pulled back her auburn hair into a tight ponytail in final preparation, and casually flipped the sign to "Come in! We're open.".
Making her way back to the aging cash register and pressing the last stubborn wrinkle out of her apron she donned her customary tired smile.
Early morning was peeking now over the pines and dancing through the old plate glass windows of her storefront as the chime from her first-morning visitor clattered.
Morning moved into the early afternoon by the time Anna had a chance to take her first bite of the blueberry muffin that had gone long cold since she set it aside during an early lull.
She sank into the battered office chair, muffin and steaming coffee in hand and took her daily dose of caffeine and sugar. The front door jingle prematurely ending her meditative moment.
"Be right there" she called through the last crumbs of her midday snack.
The cafe was nearly empty by now save the lone laptop engrossed man in the corner and a small cigarette clouded group of coffee sipping leather-clad bikers circling the front door.
Anna eyed her new customer as she dragged herself back to the counter.
He was tall and well framed carrying a dark laptop bag in his gloved hand.
Anna was struck by a feeling of familiarity as he unshaded his dark brown eyes and placed his sunglasses on the wood counter.
"What's good here?" he asked through a crooked grin.
Anna knew him she was sure, but couldn't place his face.
"I make all of it, so it's all good," she said.
"That's the Anna I remember," he said.
"Wait. How do you know me?"
She didn't like being at a disadvantage and always prided herself in remembering a face, so this situation especially irked her.
"You probably wouldn't remember me. It's been a long time. You still look great though, and I always figured you'd do something like this." He said, retrieving his sunglasses from the counter.
Anna knew her time was short with her mysterious visitor by the sight of Mrs. Crandle waddling with her five children in tow past the front window. Mrs. Crandle was the most delightful women Anna had ever met, but she was also the most long-winded and gossipy woman she had ever met, and Anna knew she was bound for a long and detailed afternoon briefing of the town on-goings.
The cafe door burst open, the sound of tiny booted feet and rustling boisterous children filled the quiet space.
"I'll see you soon, Anna," he said, quickly turning to the door and disappearing into the cloud of illuminated cigarette smoke (which Mrs. Crandle made visible her disdain for to the bikers).
"Who was that, dear?" Mrs. Crandle asked, smiling slyly.
"I can't remember."
Anna hadn't been an avid drinker since she returned to Maine. She had spent enough time floating her way to the bottom of a bottle during her life in LA, and she promised herself and her family that she wouldn't fall back into that life.
In fact, a large part of her return to Maine was her family's concern with her "west coast" lifestyle.
But, Tonight she needed a drink. The perplexing meeting with the man from her past left her wracking her brain and in desperate need of release from the stress of trying to remember.
The warm glow of Delroy's Tavern washed out into the street and called her in with promises of amnesia and local chatter to ease the mind.
"I don't think I've ever seen you in here. Your momma know you're here?" greeted her as she dropped into a cracked bar stool.
Tim Delroy, Jr. was a wild man of generations of Scottish descent.
Anna had known Tim her whole life and always found the conversation with him lacking any judgment or prejudice.
They were two years apart in age (Anna the junior) and had been close growing up and Anna had always suspected he had a thing for her but was too shy to make a move.
In the time she had moved away, Tim had married and managed to make two kids and take over his father's bar.
"My Momma doesn't have to know. I'm a grown up now, Tim." She said, cracking a peanut from the bowl of complimentary bar snacks.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
"I'm here for the view, Tim. I always liked the wild bearded, redhead type." she jibed.
Tim feigned pain and fished a dusty bottle of Crown from under the bar. With scooped ice and a thick pour, Anna wrinkled her face and savored the old friend of alcohols heat. Tim knew her, even after all of these years he still knew her all the way down to her drink.
