7
She now often had coffee in the morning with Mickey. Mickey would bring some over as Becky opened the store, and they would drink coffee and talk as the rest of the town woke up.
The bells over the door chimed, announcing the arrival of the older woman. Becky was in the back corner of her store behind the register, once again reorganizing little knick-knacks and trinkets that stood behind the shelf. Those were, weirdly, her best seller.
“Morning,” Mickey called.
“Hey,” Becky called back. She turned and leaned against the glass counter. She tied her hair in a bun as Mickey set a green travel cup in front of her. She lifted it and took a sip.
Becky thought she was good at making coffee. She thought that in her years of life, she had really understood how to make coffee. Then she had m
