Chapter Text
As a gospel choir, autumn comes, harmonized in such a way that celebrates each hue and shows how they belong together.
The leaves are changing colors, lining the trees with speckles of orange, red, and yellow. That when the wind blew, they came down, breaking delicately off of tree branches and fluttering down to earth like a colorful rain, bidding farewell to the sweet summer. The streets no longer say "walk," but instead "dance with me."
And it has Beth's mind racking all the different kinds of decoration she should put up. And on what she'd offer to bake to the other PTA moms. She probably should give them a call whenever she can, because shit, it's been too long. Not that she necessarily misses them, but out of politeness and to keep their stares that poke holes in Beth's skull at bay.
Beth rests her hand on the rough paintwork that coats the door and pushes, entering the café. Rough wood splinters cut into her palm; shards of black paint crumble to the floor. The aura of the rich, nutty smell of coffee beans and the clean, sweet, yeasty smell of the place's baked goods immediately wafts towards her.
Beth makes a beeline to stand in line. Figures if she'd done so a second later, the line would be longer than it already is. It's still early, and the machines are yet to warm, so she ponders this chance to soak in the regal ease that has burrowed its way under her skin, to drink in the aroma of this place, allows herself to relish the feel of how it cleanses her from yesterday and tomorrows what ifs.
Waiting in line, Beth surveys how the rainbow diamonds created by the sunlight shine and dance on tabletops, on the floor, on the canvases hung on the brick walls of the place while her eyes silently applaud them.
The place holds a piece of her heart. Beth used to come here as a child, a hand in her father's, while his other held Annie's, allowing them to pick whatever they wanted. Beth always opted for a blueberry muffin, while Annie cried for a lollipop.
She also has a love for the owner – Jude. Whom when Beth's father left, and they'd stopped coming every Saturday, went to check on them. Offered them their favorites for free, offered Beth a job when she turned sixteen. Jude taught Beth everything she knows, from me being a kind person with basic human decency to someone who stands in the face of fear, eye to eye. And although Jude may not be around anymore, Beth still comes here, every morning of every day; it serves as a divine déjà vu for Beth.
It's also the place that witnessed Dean ask Beth to marry him – not that that had lasted long, but it still is a happy memory nonetheless.
When it's Beth's turn to order, she notices the barista's tired eyes, yet there is that glimmer, a give away of her good heart. She's one of those surviving sparks, one of the ones who held on to who they are. Beth asks for her danish to be warmed and three black coffees – because she's sure Diane, Lucy, and herself would need something bitter to wash away yesterday's hell.
The barista apologizes amid her tired smile, "Sorry, I'm just feeling like a fuss pot today."
"You've indulged your fair share of my fuss-pot-ism. It's only right if I do too,"
She sees her spark glow a little brighter, her face more relaxed, a smidge more joy in her eyes, making Beth's own heart grow brighter.
Two coffees in one hand, one in another, and a danish caught in her lips, Beth curses herself for not taking the car. The autumn breeze that had tousled her hair and pinkened her cheeks had just felt too good.
"Switched your turkey sandwhich for a danish today," a voice brings her to a halt, making her reel back, whip around her head in search of its source. She feels hands on her hips steadying her, "Relax, mami,"
And – oh, him. Of course.
"Good morning, ma," He says, coming to stand in front of her. He lifts a hand to take a sip from his drink in an attempt to hide his shit-eating grin.
Which – god, she must be a sight.
"Not even gonna say it back?" He lifts a hand – holding a bag of what she presumes has his usual – to his heart in mock hurt.
Beth gives him displeased, muffled noise, she gets a chuckle. But then, the danish between her lips is gone. She gives him another displeased noise, this time not muffled but interrupted by her licking her lips.
Beth scowls, "You could've taken those" – she raises her occupied hands – "And kept that in my mouth,"
Rio shakes his head. Another chuckle makes its way through his throat, "So, what's the occasion for the switch this time?"
"Not everyone needs a reason to change up their order,"
He quirks an eyebrow at her before he takes before taking a bite of the danish and gives her an appreciative hum. "Dick."
"C'mon, I'll give you a ride," He cocks his head towards where his car is parked. "There's no way you'll make it there without falling face first."
Not that Beth wouldn't appreciate the ride – it'll save her from walking six blocks while trying not to drop everything she's holding – but he'd just given her one not two weeks ago, and he'd offered to do so for no other reason but to be cocky and try to impress her with his Cadillac. Or…maybe he'd seen her face plant with a sandwich in her mouth. But Beth likes to believe it's the former.
"C'mon," he says, "maybe you could even get in one or two comments about my taste."
"It's not—"
"How 'bout you do it in the car." He starts making his way to the car, not even waiting to see if she'll follow along.
For a moment, Beth thinks to ignore him and get back to her walk. It sure would be a lot less…frustrating. But it's early; he has her food and her stomach's growling – so she follows behind.
Settling in the car, Beth places two coffee's in the cup holders keeping hers in hand, then snatches her danish back from Rio. And when he glances down at the cup holders and gestures to his coffee, Beth gives him a shit-eating grin, taking a sip from her drink.
For a moment, Beth thinks she's gotten one over him when he opens the center console, pulling out the cup holder gadget, attaching it to the air vent before placing his drink in it. And now the shit-eating grin is playing on his lips as he tosses the bag that holds his bagel to her lap, and if her hands weren't occupied, she would've definitely pried the bag and taken a bite out of the bagel. But she does get in a comment about him being such a boring man, and he gets in a comment of his own about her all too sweet coffee, only to be proven wrong when she asks him to take a sip of hers.
Beth doesn't know how or when their dance began. Just that it had been early, the sunlight had washed in on the café like a ghoul's grin but had given her the halo of golden rays that had encouraged her to approach the gentlemen that had walked in every morning since July and suggested to give his taste buds the pleasure of tasting a cheese croissant.
And that had maybe resulted in him coaxing her to take a seat with him after she picked up her order, and she did. He'd gone on to say that there's almost nothing that'll have him abandon the soft, chewy, a little buttery, perfect for spreading toppings onto; excellent when toasted poppy seed bagel.
And didn't fail to mention how focused on him she is and how terrible she is at keeping her glances – or staring - subtle. She'd gone on and tried to defend herself, but had promptly failed to do so when she realized that he'd caught her, locked his eyes with her during one of her not-so-sneaky glances.
"So, mine, today?" Rio asks now that they're stopped in front of the paper porcupine.
Beth can't, but she hesitates for a second because he barely ever suggests his place, and a part of her urges to cancel on the girls and take him up on his offer. But she decides against it anyway. "Can't today,"
"Thought kids were with their dad this week?" Rio asks.
"Yeah, they are," and when he glances over to her questioningly, she says, "Girls night."
"Ah," he tilts his head back in realization, "Why don't I join y'all?"
Beth huffs out a laugh, "Stan didn't make it," Beth says, unbuckling her seat belt. A free hand reaches to grab one of the coffees sitting in the cup holders when he slaps hands away.
"I'll bring them in."
He and Diane exchange greetings at the cash register, placing the drink there. Rio doesn't leave before pinching Beth's side.
"You don't look so good," Beth comments after taking a good look at Diane's tired eyes. "Drink up." Beth slides Diane's coffee further in her direction, but she instead squints at Beth.
"Still just fuck buddies?"
Beth's breath gets caught in her throat, surprised at Diane's words. Or more at how strong her words seem to be, "Don't call it... that ." Beth says, turning on her heels, making her way to the back room, and when she hears Diane's step following closely behind, she quietly hopes that she won't press further into the matter.
"What do you want me to call you guys then? People who meet up almost everyday and fuck regularly? That?"
"Friends is just fine, you know?" Beth says, clicking the lights of the backroom and walks up to the table. She finds the bag that she'd shoved all the custom embroidered canvases in last night.
Not wanting to go further into the situation, she changes the subject. "Did you sleep well?"
"My kid doesn't have mercy," Diane says, not before giving her a look that might as well say this isn't over yet and drops heavily onto a chair. "I swear to god she never sleeps," she finishes, dropping her head back and letting out pained groans.
"Blackout curtains were no good, huh?" Beth guesses.
"Nope."
"Did you let her cry?" Beth asks, and she's answered with another groan.
"She's something," Beth jokes.
"You can take the day off, Diane," Beth says, taking out the canvases from the bag, "You know you can." She states, eying her work as she lays out on the table, and did she spend time embroidering a penis shaped flower onto a canvas last night?
"Nope, I'm good here," Diane says, shaking her head, before getting to stand beside Beth at the table.
"You do realize we're a card shop, don't you?" Diane mocks, observing Beth's work. "Look, I know you don't enjoy embroidering penises when you're not looking after your lunatic children,"
"It's good money though," Beth says, not before rolling her eyes at Diane. It is good money when people come in with all kinds of orders, some even willing to spend whatever amount of money they'd have to for an embroidered cat.
She reaches for her purse in search of her phone at the reminder of her lunatic children. Which—
"Hey!" Beth exclaims, "They aren't lunatics,"
"Jane kept a spider in her room for a month, Beth." Diane deadpans.
And now it's Beth's turn to groan, remembering how she'd found the spider under Jane's bed in a tupperware box Beth had thought she'd lost to Annie. Beth flinches at the remembrance of Jane's screaming and crying that night.
"Bubble bath when you get back?" They hear Max from the front of the store.
"Only if you join me," Lucy responds.
"Here come the lovebirds," Beth laughs.
Lucy and Max are a beautiful, sweet pair. But probably sweet to the point you'd need to have your dentist on call. She admires them, though. Two goners, helplessly in love. It makes Beth's heart happy.
"Those love birds make me want to puke my guts out," Diane says, "Max even knows when her flow is heavy when it isn't?" She states exasperatedly.
"If only we can get ourselves someone like that," Diane hums in agreement, taking a long sip of her drink, but then fixes with a look.
And before Beth can stop the words from falling out of her mouth, Diane says, "Oh, I bet Mr . Neck tats knows this kinda stuff about you though,"
Which – no. No. They may be well acquainted, but not like that.
In fact, she doesn't know much about him, really. They've got bulletproof glass placed between them, and only so little can be shared.
No one really knows about them – well, they're good friends in front of others, more specifically Ruby and Annie. And perhaps Beth'd hoped not to get him acquainted with them, but when Annie had spent the night at Beth's and has tagged along the next morning to the café, she'd met him. And had figured out he'd been the bagel guy she complains about ordering the same thing oh-so-much, and Annie had fit in a few jokes of her own when Rio walked up to them.
And Ruby tagged along the next week to see the really hot owl-tatted guy, and sure Rio had tried to tell how wrong she was on what kind of bird was inked on his neck, only for him to be scoffed at.
She also wishes she'd hid it from Diane and Lucy, but there wasn't much she could do when they'd walked into the backroom one night to work on some late orders when they'd found her sprawled out on the table with Rio tangled in between her legs.
And yeah, sure, they could've been more careful, but how would they've ever guessed that would happen…right?
Beth ignores Diane's comment and finds a chair herself to sit at.
"Good morning!" Lucy offers cheerfully, stepping into the room. "What were you two talking about?"
Before Diane can say anything, the bell dings from the front of the store, "Customer." Beth says, "Better get to them."
After they leave, Beth dials Dean, wanting to hear her children's voices. It rings once, twice before she's by Jane's excited hello's.
*
"Figured out what you'll be wearing?" Ruby says once the commercial break starts.
After a day full of people coming in with all kinds of requests at the paper porcupine, and a quick detour to the craft she did on her way home, Beth's finally home, sat on a couch with Annie squished between her and Ruby, with a wine glass in hand.
Beth takes a long sip from her drink, trying to grasp at what exactly Ruby's referring to, squinting at her, and then at Annie to find her doing the same.
"Jazz club," Ruby reminds them, not without rolling her eyes. "Did you at least ask Nancy to tag along, Annie?
"Hey! She also forgot," Annie shoves a finger in her direction. Beth's head flinches, her free hand gets a hold of Annie's finger. "But yes." Annie says, trying to pull her finger free of Beth's grip.
"And is she coming?" Ruby asks.
"We…have other plans," Beth lets go of Annie's finger. "And what those plans are is undisclosed information." Annie says.
Ruby lets out an exasperated breath, shaking her head a little. Annie shrugs, getting up from her spot on the couch, "Anyone want a refill?" She says, tilting her glass towards the kitchen.
"No, thank you," Beth says.
"And I am driving you and myself home, so no." Ruby says.
After Annie gets herself another drink and comes back, she sits down on the ground by their feet; she says, "I'd just like to say that you, Bethie," Annie places her hand on Beth's knee, "should invite Ron."
Beth huffs out a breath, "What makes you think I have no one to bring with me?" She says, swallowing the urge to correct her on his name, perhaps because she knows it isn't Ron – but enjoys calling him that. And truth be told, so does Beth. Maybe she had even lost it when Annie had outright called him Ron one night when he'd dropped by her house earlier than expected and found them having dinner.
His face had been a mix of confusion and mortification that made it hard for Beth to draw a lungful of air and had made Annie giggle on the remembrance of his face for the rest of the week.
Ruby and Annie exchange looks before turning back to her, "Do you, B?" Ruby asks.
And okay , she hasn't asked anyone, and frankly, didn't care to. But asking Rio seems too inappropriate for what they are, and he'd probably laugh at her for even asking. "Fine. I just don't think bagel guy would like give up his Friday night to go to a jazzclub,"
"Just ask him," Annie says, "or I'll be shooting him a text." She turns her face to the television that plays on mute before her hand out to Ruby, asking for the remote.
Beth toys with the idea in her head for the rest of the night, mulls it over when she's tucking herself in bed, and thinks if he says no, how bad can it be? At the end of the day, she's just asking her friend to tag along with her so that she won't be the third wheel. Even if a part of her is certain that is he does agree, it might wound up to him, and Stan on the dance floor with Ruby and her sat down admiring them.
She finds herself sending him a come over a little after midnight and thinks he'll probably ignore her text, but then he ends up settling oh-so comfortably between her legs, pushing her up and over the edge twice too fast.
And maybe that hadn't been what she planned to do and figured she'll ask him the next morning.