Before the city came calling
Maeve's POV
The sun seeped through the curtains, soft and unhurried, marking the start of another ordinary day.
I sat on my bed for a moment before reaching for my phone. The screen lit up instantly.
Thirty cake orders.
I stared at it.
Four chocolate fudge cakes. Twelve angel food cakes. Five cinnamon spice cakes. Nine cheesecakes.
That’s a lot.
I run my own café and bakery in this small countryside town, and I also handle deliveries outside when needed. Thirty orders wasn’t impossible—it just meant my week had officially stopped being calm.
Not that I minded. I love what I do. I find happiness in it.
I set the phone aside and got up, stretching slowly to wake my body properly. Same routine. Same rhythm. It kept me steady.
After shaping my hair into something manageable, I walked into the bathroom. The water was warm, grounding. It always helped clear my head.
When I stepped out, I wrapped myself in my bathrobe and went through my clothes. I chose a simple cotton midi dress, nothing loud, nothing unnecessary. I paired it with flat shoes—practical, comfortable.
A few sprays of perfume. A quick messy bun.
Done.
I went downstairs.
“Morning, Pappy,” I said as I reached the kitchen.
He looked up from his seat and smiled, the kind of smile that always carried more knowing than words.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You’ve got a lot of orders today.”
I sighed lightly. “Pappy, that’s not how you start a morning.”
He chuckled. “So I’m right.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “Thirty.”
“That means you’ll be working your ass off today.”
“Not really,” I said, already moving toward the counter. “I have a week to deliver everything. I don’t rush my work.”
I glanced back at him. “Come down for breakfast.”
Without waiting for his reply, I headed downstairs.
The café was below the living space—small, warm, and familiar. My space. My routine.
I unlocked the door and turned on the lights. The soft glow filled the room slowly, like it was waking up with me. I began arranging the chairs, aligning everything the way I liked it. Order first. Then everything else.
Vacuuming came next. The sound filled the quiet room briefly before fading into silence again.
After that, I moved behind the counter.
The morning baking started early—cake bases, preparation, coffee beans measured and set. The smell of sugar and coffee began to rise through the air, mixing into something comforting.
I also prepared breakfast for Pappy and me—spaghetti and meatballs. Simple. Familiar.
By the time I finished, he had already come downstairs.
“You haven’t even been down for two hours,” he said, looking around the café, “and you’re already done with everything.”
I just smiled and continued plating the food.
We ate quietly.
By 7 a.m., I turned the sign on the door.
WE ARE OPEN
I took my place behind the counter, and within thirty minutes, the first customers arrived.
Four of them.
They ordered cake to go and four types of coffee—espresso, cappuccino, latte, and iced Americano.
The café slowly filled with the usual morning rhythm.
That was when Ms. Rose mentioned it.
“The reporter from the city is coming today,” she said casually.
I paused slightly. “Oh really? What is he coming for this time?”
She smiled. “Maybe this time it’s for you, Willow. You just have to stay positive.”
“I am positive,” I said, serving another order, “I’m just trying to be realistic. I don’t like putting all my eggs in one basket. It’s risky.”
Ms. Rose nodded like she understood, even if she didn’t fully agree.
“How is Jessica doing now?” Pappy asked from the side.
“She’s okay, Senior,” Ms. Rose replied.
“Is Jessi alright?” I asked immediately.
“Oh yes,” she said quickly. “She just had low sugar. She fainted, but she’s fine now.”
I exhaled softly. “Thank goodness. I’m glad it wasn’t serious.”
Their coffees were ready shortly after. They collected their orders, said their goodbyes, and left the café just like every other morning.
And for a moment, everything felt normal again.
