Read The New Hope Cafe for Free Online

Jonah’s woodshop windows. He was working in there. It
was a peaceful thought.
    What had he said to her? You’re in good
hands.
    The words had felt so right, she’d almost cried. Remembering
felt like a cool cloth on a hot forehead.
    She lay back down. Barrett couldn’t know they were here. The
shelter expected her sometime this week, so there was no urgency there. She’d
already made over a hundred bucks, which would help pay for the car.
    You’re in good hands. Her muscles
loosened, her mind let go, and the next thing she knew her travel alarm was
giving out its high-pitched beep.
    She dressed in stretchy capris, a cool yellow blouse and
comfortable sandals, peeked in on her sleeping daughter, then followed the smell
of coffee to the kitchen.
    “Left you a mug’s worth,” Rosie said, not looking up from her
paper.
    Cara filled the rooster-shaped mug Rosie had set out for her
and took a sip.
    “Paper guy told me Rusty’s still not back from the bachelor
party,” Rosie said, sipping from a matching mug. “Long drive from Yuma.”
    “That’s not good.”
    “I don’t know. You’ll get a better price tomorrow. People with
hangovers want someone to pay.”
    Her stomach burned. Another delay. Another day’s wait and she
still didn’t know how much it would cost to fix.
    Rosie leveled her gaze at Cara. “You’ve got your troubles.
That’s clear. I’ve been there. Like I said, I was swirling the drain when Eddie
hauled me up.”
    Her words caught Cara short. She sucked in a breath, nervous
about what Rosie had guessed about their situation. Would she tell anyone? The
police? Barrett, if he showed up? Or an investigator he sent?
    “I’ll pay cash under the table and you can live here free.
That’s the deal.”
    “That’s very kind of you, Rosie, but as I explained—”
    “You’ve got a mysterious job in some secret city. Right.”
    “Denver. It’s not a secret. And I do have a job. No
mystery.”
    “Doing what?”
    “Secretarial.” She wasn’t sure, but it was a good guess.
    Rosie looked at her the way her grandmother would have—not
buying it, but not minding the lie. “A job in the hand is worth one in the weeds
any day. We both know that.”
    “I appreciate that. I do, but—”
    “I can keep my mouth shut when it counts, if that’s your
worry.”
    “I’m sure you can, I just—”
    “Think about it. That’s all I ask.” She went back to her
paper.
    “I will.” Cara gulped the coffee, rinsed the cup and started to
go.
    “There are a hell of a lot of strawberries in the fridge.”
    “I got carried away, I guess.” She’d had so much fun in the
garden she’d lost track of all she’d harvested.
    “You going to let them rot in there?”
    “I thought I’d make French toast in the café and use them.
Jonah said no.”
    “Your French toast any good?”
    “Very. Plus, baked goods have a big profit margin.”
    “Is that so?”
    “The lady who owned the diner where I worked told me that.”
    “Then get down there and get toasting.”
    “But Jonah said—”
    “Hell’s bells, he’s all bark and no bite. Go down there and
tell him that junk about profit margin. Stand up for yourself.”
    “Okay. I will.”
    “Good. And remind him my sink needs fixing.”
    “Will do.” She grabbed the gigantic bowl of sugared berries
from the fridge and left. She liked Rosie. She’d taken the same tone that her
grandmother would have. Her grandmother had overcome tough times, too. She’d
been poor, done most of the raising of her five younger siblings, but she’d
plowed ahead, no matter what. She knew who she was and what she wanted. Cara
wished she were more like her grandmother. And Rosie, for that matter.
    Rosie’s offer was tempting, it was true. The Phoenix job would
be minimum wage, so it would take forever to save for new IDs and legal help.
And being around Rosie felt reassuring.
    That was deceptive, though. It was a false sense of security.
Phoenix was bigger, more anonymous.