Violet was doing that face again, the one she makes when she “messed” things up. There was no point in asking her what was in her mind because she’d say it was nothing and, most importantly, I already knew what it was. It was the same story as after our first time all over again. This time, she was torturing herself with thoughts about our talk of marriage. I could see the arguments she was making as her face twisted and turned as her mood swung between emotions. It was kinda funny, but still, she was overthinking it too much. I guess that’s just to be expected.

“Babe, your coffee will grow cold,” I told her as I placed my warm hand over her cold ones that were clutching the cup of the black liquid. She was so lost in her mind that she jumped in her seat after I touched her.

“Right... right, the coffee, you mean.”

I chuckled as I asked what she had heard me say. Violet still looked a bit lost as she told me she heard words but couldn’t understand their meaning and took a sip. With a bit more focus, she told my sister that the coffee was good.

“The machine does most of the work, but thanks,” Sophie answered with a shrug. Are you not having anything? She then asked me as she slightly leaned over the counter.

Sis started working at a coffee shop that Claire had recommended. Turns out, her family owned the place, but she only told her that after Sophie got hired. No, she didn’t get the job because they were friends, Claire suggested it as a joke, never expecting that sis would take it seriously. One thing Claire had told us was what gave her the impetus to suggest it in the first place was her thinking my sister would look good in their uniform. Of course, being my sister who we are talking about, that was a given.

Black trousers, dark brown shirt and an apron with the same colour of coffee foam. I’d love to see Violet wearing it but, the shirt in particular, would be a bit too baggy for her.

“I don’t really like bitter things like Violet, so...”

“What about this one?” she asked as she pointed to one item in the menu they had written on a small chalkboard on top of the counter. “It’s made with coffee and condensed milk.”

“Hmm...” Violet hummed. She had her face all twisted again, but this time it was due to her finding the beverage sis mentioned too sweet.

On the other hand, it sounded right up my alley, so I asked my sister to prepare me one of those.

“You could try the coffee,” Violet told me as she brought her cup to her mouth. “This one isn’t bitter at all.”

“That so, huh?”

Tsking advantage of my sister being with her back turned and nobody else being in the shop, I stole a kiss from Violet to have a small taste of the coffee she was having right after she had another sip. As far as I could tell, this one was very soft in terms of bitterness. Sweeter still was the face Violet was making, red and happy for the surprise kiss but also wanting to give me an earful but being stopped by sis’ presence.

“Just so you know, I heard that,” my sis commented without even turning around. “Please, try to behave in public.”

“Whatever are you talking about, dear sis?”

She placed my order and was ready to start arguing, but I was—literally—saved by the bell. The bell that rang anytime someone came inside. The person who came in was no other than Papa Stan.

“Afternoon girls!” he greeted before commenting how funny it was to see us all gathered there.

In turn, I asked him what he was doing here. With a bit of surprise, he asked me if my sister hadn’t told us that he and my dad always came to this coffee shop for a break during the afternoon.

“Hmm? Is that so?” I asked, grinning at my sister.

“W-what about dad?” she asked, trying to move the conversation along. “Also, I take it that you’ll have your usual?”

“My usual, yes,” Stan said with a nod. “And before I forget, I’ll also take William’s order. We have a group of new people that will start working tomorrow and he’s showing them around the office.”

“So, that’s why...” my sister hummed as she looked at me and Violet. She was most likely thinking that it was a shame that we were there. I’d later welcome her into our world of having third wheels around.

Thee bell rang again, and two more people walked in. These two were also people we were familiar with.

“And what are you doing here?” my sister asked Claire.

“What? Can’t a girl come visit her friend at work?” she asked back with a huge smile as she sat at the counter with Mathilda. “I’ll have a double expresso served with a smile!”

“Roger, a double expresso with a spoonful of salt coming right up.”

“Pfft, as mean as always.”

“And you Mathilda?”

“Same as Claire, but you can skip the smile and salt.”

Stan stroke up a conversation that I wanted to have with Claire, asking her how Paul was doing at uni. Claire started gushing about how much of a hard worker he was while also lamenting how little time they talked anytime he had school assignments and tests. And perhaps to also give some extra points in Stan’s opinions on Sophie, she also gushed about how nice of a person my sister was.

“She really is a sweet girl, isn’t she?” Claire finalised.

There was a clatter as my sister “accidently” placed Claire’s coffee cup a bit too forcibly on the counter. She still got all gooey once Stan agreed that she was indeed a very sweet girl.

Honestly, I didn’t pay it much attention. I was captivated by how dignified and elegant Violet was looking as she read her book and sipped her coffee. It was too good of a picture to not take a photo, despite knowing she’d get annoyed.

“Don’t take my picture out of the blue,” she told me by the how-knows-nth time.

“Sorry, it was too good to let it go to waste,” I told her, hiding my smile behind my phone.

“...Is it good?”

“One of the best!”

“...I guess it’s fine then,” she grumbled as she returned to her reading. Although, you always say that, she further grumbled under her breath.

To that, I’d tell her she was very photogenic when distracted by something. I sure would love to have an oil painting made from one of the pictures i took from her.

“Ah! Violet, before you go back to reading, I have an invitation from auntie for today,” Mathilda said very urgently. It was so out of character that we asked if anything had happened. She chuckled and explained that Mrs. Fletcher has been inviting us to join them ever since last year’s party, but she keeps forgetting about asking us.

We didn’t have anything planned, so I was up for it. Violet was too, my guess being that she wouldn’t mind seeing the inside of the house again and in a more relaxed occasion.

“You two are invited too,” Mathilda said, extending the invitation to my sister and Claire.

“Me too?” Sophie asked, confused.

“Yup. She’s been very keen in seeing you ever since you came back to town.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

My sister seemed very reticent about going, making Stan ask her if there was a problem between the two.

“Not really,” my sister explained. “I just never felt like she had much of an interest in me before.”

“Ah, that...” Mathilda started. “That’s because you only ever met her at parties. As a host, she has to treat everyone equally, and since she’s not particularly fond of some of the people that go there... you get the picture.”

“Hmm, makes sense, I guess,” my sister agreed with a nod. “But you, don’t you have a bag to pack?”

That question was directed at me, snaping me from drooling over how pretty Violet looked as she combed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh, pipe down with that!” I argued. “It’s only for a night and I already have Violet nagging me about it.”

“Because you keep postponing it,” Violet said with a glance. “And we are leaving tomorrow, so it’s not like you have much more time left.”

I knew that, but like I said, we were only going to be out for a night, plus, we’d be wearing our school uniforms, so it’s not like there was all that much need of clothing, was there?

“Aren’t you the least bit excited about going on a school trip?” Sophie asked.

It’s not that I wasn’t. It was super cool that the school had organised a school trip to two museums that would take the better part of two days. What was putting a damper on my mood was the fact that Violet and I had to sleep in separate bedrooms. It was done for a matter of fairness, I get that, but still, what a pain that was.

“Is it really that bad not to sleep together for one night?” my sister grumbled.

“You’ll understand one of these days,” I grumbled back, making her turn slightly red.

“I’d love to stay here longer, but I can’t really leave William alone for so long, so I’ll be taking my leave.”

“So soon?” my sister asked on reflex, turning even redder once she realised what she had just uttered. Somehow, she turned even redder once Stan smiled at her and said he’d be sure to stay for a bit longer next time he had a break.

Oh! That was really smooth, Papa Stan! Great job!

Maybe Violet got those moments from him?

“That idiot,” Violet grumbled as she took her phone out. “He forgot William’s order.”

That convinced me even further that it was from him that she got that side of hers. And to sweeten her mood, I offered a bit of my drink to her, but she refused. Of course, me giving her the puppy eyes quickly made her change her mind.

“Huh, not as sweet as I was expecting.”

“The coffee we use for that is quite bitter after all. Anyway, I’ll only be free in an hour. Is it all right with Mrs. Fletcher?”

Mathilda assured her that as long as we stopped by before dinner time, she’d be more than happy to have us for a visit.

The place was exactly as it was every time I had gone there, but the same couldn’t be said about the owner. Today, instead of a party gown, she was in a far more casual dress, still elegant, but looser and with multiple colours instead of a solid one. That simplicity was carried to her jewellery, there being none besides a ring, but her hair was still as neatly combed as ever.

She offered us a wide smile that made her look at least twenty years younger and came to us to gently shake our hands with her wrinkled fingers. As she moved along our group, she offered a complement to each one of us. My sister was the last in line, and to her, she reserved it for after she held her face as she analysed it.

“You look just like your mother at your age, only, far prettier.”

“T-thanks,” my sister stammered, being a bit shocked with how different Mrs. Fletcher was acting in contrast to how she remembered her.

“Yes, you still have the joy of life beaming brightly in your eyes. Perhaps you’re even in love with someone?”

My sister’s jaw dropped at how perceptive Mrs. Fletcher was. Personally, I think she was only joking, but she was still spot on, nonetheless.

“You actually know him. It’s Violet’s dad.”

“A-Abby!” my sister barked.

“Oh, I see that you have good taste in men!” Mrs. Fletcher clapped. “An absolute gentleman, very hardworking too. And the fact his good looking doesn’t hurt, hmm?”

“...”

“Maybe a bit too old, but that never stopped me and my husband to have a happy, fulfilling marriage, God bless his soul. Come, come! I’ll ask Margaret to bring us—”

“Tea?” Margaret chimed in as she walked into the room carrying a tray with a tea pot and cups.

“Did you bring one for yourself too, my dear?”

“But of course! The more the merrier, correct?”

I draw the conclusion that the two often had tea together. It made them feel more like friends than master and servant. I understand that’s not always possible, but it’d be nice if some people would learn to be more like this. Case and point, I’m referring to my mum.

“Erm, Mrs. Fletcher? You mentioned our mum, so I was wondering... do you know anything about her?” I asked.

“You want to know about your mother? Hmm... To tell you the truth, she’s going down a bad path. Took to drinking. But an old acquaintance moved back to town and has an unfulfilled promise to settle with her, so she’s not alone.”

“I’m sorry, our mum has someone helping her?” my sister voice the question I couldn’t put out, so shocked I was by the news.

Mrs. Fletcher clapped again and told us with a knowing smile not to worry about it. One way or another, the universe would find a way to return to a balance.

Now I was more curious how she knew all that, a question that I voiced to her. She looked at me and smiled even further.

“I’m actually a witch. I have a crystal ball that let’s me see anything and everything.”

She was old, yes, but she was also too good looking to be a witch, if those were a real thing at all. Or maybe, only evil witches were ugly looking?

Violet and Margaret started chatting about what was up in each other’s lives, Mathilda, Claire, Sophie, me and Mrs. Fletcher talked about school and love. It was being your stereotypical girls-talk and with three different generations to boot. It was being lots of fun, but my sister looked a bit distracted by the instrument present in the room. That piano-looking thing.

“Do you want to play a bit for us?” Mrs. Fletcher asked.

“You know how to play!?” Claire asked her before Sophie could even form a sentence.

“I-I don’t! I used to play the piano, but that was a long time ago.”

“I have in good authority that you were very good. I’m sure you could play something nice for us once you shake off the rust out of your fingers.”

My sister was reluctant, but Claire’s nagging got on her nerves and made her give in to her incessant requests.

She got up, and so did Claire.

“Why are you coming along?” my sister asked annoyed.

“Because I want the front seat!” Claire told her with unshaken enthusiasm.

The first few notes were quite painful to hear, and Sophie was ready to give up, but Mrs. Fletcher told her to keep trying and that perhaps she had to adjust the way she pressed the keys since the harpsichord—that’s the name—wasn’t exactly the same as a piano.

A few more notes rang, but slowly they started to sound like they should. After a few minutes, the sound coming from her live performance was pleasant to hear. So nice in fact that people started coming into the room, attracted by the music being played.

The face my sister made when she was finished playing and realised there was a room full of people clapping and cheering at her was priceless. Then, someone approached her and asked if they could tip her.

“N-no, I—”

“i think that’s in order,” Mrs. Fletcher said, getting up and joining in that conversation. “I’ll ask someone to prepare a tipping jar by the entrance. In the meantime, please enjoy the show. Assuming the artist still has the inspiration to grace us with her talent?”

My sister was a bit overwhelmed by what was happening, but she still nodded in agreement. After taking a second to compose herself, she started playing another song.

Back at the cafe, my sister looked normal. Normal in the sense that, she was there, existing and going through the motions, only smiling once Stan walked in. Right now, however, she was happy. She looked very serious, but I could tell, it was the kind of serious that people look when they are focused on something they deeply enjoy.

By the time she stopped playing, Margaret and the old butler were setting the tables to serve dinner to the guests.

“Thanks for letting me play,” my sister said, tired but with the biggest smile possible. “It was lots of fun.”

“You graduated business school, correct?” Mrs. Fletcher asked without skipping a beat.

“Y-yes, that’s correct.”

“In that case, I have a proposition for you.”

This line of conversation was being very familiar to me and Violet. With one exchange of glances, we both knew there was coming a very irresistible offer towards my sister.

“You see, I’ve been managing my business alone. Quite frankly, I feel like I’m too old and too busy to attend to it to the fullest of its needs. If you’d like to, how about coming to work with me? You could help me at the office, give those two some help serving lunches, and in the evening, you could play live music to our guests.”

“I, erm...”

“Of course, you’d be handsomely rewarded for your work. It's not like I can easily find someone with your education that can also serve tables and play music so well such as you. I’d be very happy to have you join me in my efforts.”

Sophie looked at the harpsichord and to the people around the room as she thought it over. Once she had gathered her thoughts, she spoke up as she stared down to her knees.

“Ever since I heard about my parents’ divorce, I’ve been wondering what I should do. Ever since I was little, it had been decided that I’d work at mum’s company. There never was a choice nor reason to think about alternatives. Then, I was told by dad that he wouldn’t accept me working with him unless I was fully sure that was what I really wanted to do. He wanted to give me the freedom I never had to choose for myself, but the thing is, playing music had been the only thing I could remember having ever liked doing in my life. I was supposed to figure out what to do, but I never had the life experience to be able to figure that out. If I didn’t follow up with working in business management, then what were twenty-one years of my life for? If I get to live until eighty, that’d be tossing away a quarter of my life away.”

She suddenly got very quiet and for a moment I thought she’d burst into tears, but my sister was better put together than me, and from her silence the only result was her lifting her head up and rubbing one eye at a time.

“Sorry, I started rambling. What I mean to say is, yes, I accept your offer. Thanks for having me.”