The Cosy Coffee Shop of Promises

Mel didn’t look surprised; she looked shell-shocked, maybe even a little sick. Strange, you’d have thought she’d have been happy to see her mother.

Although to be fair, outside of their friendly chats over the bar and in passing on the street, Tony didn’t know much about Mel. In fact he could tick off what he did know about her on one hand. She worked hard, kept to herself, and was pretty to look at. Pretty, and funny, and not afraid of getting stuck in and making things happen. He looked down at the warm milk she’d pressed into his hands. She was caring, too, but most definitely not his type. She was the settling type.

Or was she? A thought nagged at him… settling types liked their family, didn’t they? Wanted to have them around? Have a big one themselves? Breed like rabbits and enjoy big family dinners every night? Cheerful Christmases. Rowdy birthdays. So Mel’s mother turning up should’ve been a good thing. So why was Mel going so pale her black-and-pink hair was looking both darker and more vibrant than ever?

‘Mel, aren’t you going to introduce me to your handsome friend? I’m sure I raised you better than that.’ Mel’s mother thrust her hand forward, palm down, in Tony’s direction.

She wanted him to kiss her hand? Not shake it? And had she just thrown him a flirtatious wink along with that girlish giggle?

‘The name’s Tony.’ He leant over and kissed her proffered hand, making Mel’s mum laugh in delight as she flipped her poker-straight, long blonde hair over her shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Mel shake her head and roll her eyes. So she wasn’t her mother’s number-one fan. Odd.

‘And I’m Valerie. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

‘What made you come early, Mum? And why all the bags? I thought you were only planning to stay for a day or two.’

Tony followed Mel’s gaze to the bags stacked by the front door. There were so many, Mel’s mum could’ve started up her own luggage shop.

A knot began to form in his stomach.

‘Oh, Mel, let’s not talk about that right now. We can catch up properly tomorrow. What I need right now is my beauty sleep. Where’s the nearest bed?’

Did Mel’s mum just give him a meaningful glance? Oh, hell. There was no way he was sharing his bed with her. She’d eat him alive. Oh, and he was meant to be getting married to her daughter.

‘My apartment’s just down the road, Mum. You can sleep there.’

‘Your apartment?’ The flirty eyes hardened. ‘You’re engaged, aren’t you? Why would you need an apartment? Surely you and your fiancé are living together?’

‘We are.’ The words came out before he could think. The knot grew tighter. Damn. Not enough sleep had made him stupid, unable to think straight. But it was too late to back out now. ‘But sometimes this place gets rowdy late into the night and Mel has to be up early for the café, so that’s when she stays over there.’

‘Well, that’s a very modern arrangement you’ve got going. Not particularly cosy, though. I don’t know, Melanie… If I were getting married to this hunk right here I wouldn’t let him out of my sight. Especially with so many women no doubt just waiting to pounce.’

‘I trust Tony. He would never let me down. Unlike some people I know.’

Tony had spent enough hours watching people get tetchy with each other after a few drinks to know when he heard loaded words. Fighting words. Words to wind up the evening with before the two women got even more wound up and a full-on family spat erupted with a gleeful audience to egg them on. Tony ducked down and grabbed the megaphone he kept on hand for the rare occasion when the pub was busy and the patrons needed to be moved on. It was time for a bit, or a lot, of distraction.

‘Down those drinks, boys. It’s time to hit the sack!’

Tony ignored the groans and mutterings of ‘killjoy’ coming from the players.

Setting the megaphone down, he turned to Mel and Valerie. His booming announcement had stopped the sniping but Mel was still glaring at her mother, while her mother stared back at her daughter, an innocent expression on her face. He was mighty glad not to be sharing a room with either of them tonight. ‘That goes for you two as well. Get home and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘You’re shutting up shop? But I just got here.’ Valerie pouted and widened her eyes. ‘And you’re sending the men away? Oh, surely we can stay up for one little drink. They look like so much fun.’

‘What about your beauty sleep, Mum?’ Mel asked pointedly.

‘Oh, I’ll just get it at the other end of the day. A good sleep-in works wonders… and besides, those gentlemen don’t look ready for sleep either.’

‘You’d have thought you’d have had enough fun for a lifetime.’ Mel’s tone was as dark as the shadows under her eyes.

‘Sorry, Valerie. Once the megaphone has come out, it’s time for everyone to get out.’

‘Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying.’ Valerie smiled prettily up at him. ‘Speaking of trying… Melanie, you really ought to do something with that hair of yours. Honestly. It’s hardly feminine.’

Tony watched Mel’s chest rise as she sucked in a breath, then slowly deflated. Counting to ten? Twenty? Her mother had been here only a few minutes and she’d already insulted Mel twice. No wonder they weren’t close.

‘My hair’s fine, Mother. Now let’s get going. I’ve got to be up early and you’re not the only one who needs beauty sleep.’

‘Oh, I can see that, dear. Don’t you worry.’ Valerie turned to Tony. ‘It was a pleasure meeting you. I can’t wait for us to get further acquainted.’

Tony caught Mel rolling her eyes and winked at her as she gathered up as many bags as she could while her mother took one in each hand. As they tottered out the door Mel slung her mother a murderous look.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips. Right, so he had one night to figure out how to be a convincing fiancé for a few days. He remembered the towering suitcases. At least, he hoped it would only be for a few days…

***

‘This is a very homely apartment you’ve got here, Melanie.’

Homely? In her mother’s vernacular that meant ‘pokey’.

‘I like it.’ And she did. The apartment above the shop was small, but it was all she needed. Open-plan living with a small kitchenette, one bedroom, and a bathroom. The landlord had allowed her to splash a little paint on the walls. And although lemon yellow wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, she liked it. It reminded her of the bedroom she’d spent so much time in at her grandma’s.

‘And there’s an awful lot of stuff here for a spot where you just need to sleep…’

God, the Spanish Inquisition would’ve been easier to deal with. Nothing got past Valerie. She had a knack of sizing someone up and seeing their weak spots, or the secrets they were hiding, in seconds. She wasn’t afraid to let them know about it either. Like Tony and the drunken women…

‘Well, Tony’s living area isn’t exactly large…’

‘But he has a huge building? Surely he could take over one of the pub’s bedrooms, maybe knock a wall out and create some room for you? I mean, you’ve been together how long now? At least a year?’

Mel groaned inwardly. Lying to her mother about her relationship status had seemed like a good idea at the time, a way to stop the constant badgering about settling down with a man. She’d kind of hoped the vet was going to become the real-life embodiment of her fake boyfriend, but that hope left when he did. And the last thing she’d expected was her mother to visit. That wasn’t something they did… well, apart from the times when something had gone wrong in her mother’s life… which begged the question, why was she here? What had gone wrong?

‘Yeah… we’ve been going out just over a year now.’ Mel felt the walls starting to close in on her. Her previously cosy apartment now felt like it was about to choke her.

‘Well, he really needs to sort that situation out. I’ll talk to him. I can’t have my girl living out of a suitcase.’

Air. There was none. The world was starting to spin. Mel walked to the window, pushed it open and breathed in the brisk, wintry air. Although tinged with wood smoke it felt fresh, clearing, invigorating.

‘And don’t tell me you’re pregnant? Have you set a date for the wedding? We’ll move it up. I don’t want my only child to be an unwed mother, or worse, look like a marshmallow in a wedding dress.’

Mel spun to her mother, anger pulsing in her veins. What right did she have to come in here and tip her nice, secure, routined-up-the-yin-yang life upside down? Hadn’t she done that enough?

‘Mother. I’m not pregnant. I’m just tired. I’ve been up since the wee hours. I’ve worked all day in the café. Then worked all night for Tony. And look, it’s the wee hours again. I need to get some sleep. And I don’t need to be harangued about every aspect of my life...’

Her mother’s soft-blue eyes welled up with tears. Of course, she was able to give it but not take it. Nothing had changed there. But despite everything, seeing her mother in pain tugged at her heart. Same way it always had.

‘After all, there’s plenty of time for you to do that.’ She lifted one eyebrow and gave her a small, teasing smile, glad to see the tears recede as fast as they’d built up.

‘Oh, Mel.’ Her mother swept over and pulled her into her lean embrace. ‘What a mean old cow you must think I am. I only want the best for you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.’