Just Killing Time (17 page)

I
took a long sip of coffee. It was all I could do to swallow it.

“This is terrible, Bezel,” I said. She looked up at me and squished her eyes quizzically.

“I think it's the coffeemaker. I wonder if cleaning it would help?”

Bezel meowed and circled my ankles.

“You're right, this one has seen better days. I'll think about getting a new one.”

Bezel gave me a short meow and then went back to her own breakfast. Her sympathy only went so far.

“Well, I think I need to go down to the Sleeping Latte and get some real coffee.” Instead of taking my entire bag, I grabbed my phone and put some money in my pocket.

“Caroline's coming over this morning, so I'm going to lock
you up here. Oh, don't act so put out. You spend all your time up here anyway,” I said as I spent a couple of extra minutes trying to tame my hair and putting on a bit of makeup. Was I going to the Sleeping Latte looking for coffee or looking for Ben? I shook my head. Maybe a bit of both.

•   •   •

T
he Sleeping Latte was packed. Most of the people in the shop were getting coffee to go, and looked like students. The wait wasn't long, but there was a wait.

“May I help you? Oh, Ruth, it's you,” Moira said after she looked up. “Good morning.”

“Good morning. Thanks again for a great dinner last night.”

“It was a lot of fun,” Moira said. “Though I thought you'd be sick of seeing Reeds by now.”

“Never. Besides, I need good coffee. How's it going this morning?”

“Busy, but that's nothing new. Between the leaf peepers, the students, and the thirsty citizens of Orchard, this has been a really busy fall.”

“That's great,” I said, turning to look at the line forming behind me. “Could I have a French roast and a bacon breakfast sandwich?”

“On bread, bagel, or English muffin?” she asked.

“Bagel,” I answered without thinking much about it. I wasn't a foodie by any means, but between the Sleeping Latte and the Corner Market I was getting a more discerning palate. I was also going to have trouble fastening my skirts if I kept it up.

“The bagels are a little stale,” Moira whispered. “The
Italian bread is really fresh. And the chef prefers making it on bread anyway. It's great.”

“Sounds wonderful, thanks. With your mother in the kitchen, I should just say ‘chef's choice' every time I come in.”

“Good choice. Here's your coffee mug. Go sit down and we'll call you when it's up.”

“How much do I owe?”

“Pay on your way out,” Moira said, pushing my money back toward me.

I had the sense that paying wouldn't be easy, but I was going to keep trying. The diner was busy, but I could only imagine what the profit margins were like when you ran a restaurant. I'd taken several small business courses over the past few months, trying to figure out how I could open my own shop or studio. I understood how hard it was for a small business to stay open, and comping your friends wouldn't help. Maybe I'd just leave a really big tip.

I did a quick scan and saw a table by the window open up. I made a beeline for it, nearly colliding with Ben.

“Were you going to sit there?” he asked. He looked like he'd just rolled out of bed. If I had a type, and I'm not sure I did, Ben wasn't it, at least on paper. He wore a paisley shirt that I normally wouldn't find attractive, but he managed to make it work. The shirt hadn't seen the hot side of an iron and was half tucked into his jeans. The cowboy boots and brown bomber jacket were well worn, his hair was a little too long, and he had facial hair that was more than scruff but less than a beard. Ben was the least well-groomed barber in existence. Handsome and confusing all at once.

“I was,” I said. “Happy to share.”

Ben pulled my chair out for me and then went to the other side of the table and got settled.

“Glad this is working out. Real estate around here is tough to come by, especially at this time of the morning. But you still need to come by the shop. I'd love to show you around.”

“Maybe on my way back to the Cog. Caroline's coming by this morning and I want to make sure I'm there to meet her.” I looked around. “Is it always this busy?”

Ben nodded and swallowed his coffee. “It is, now. It took folks a while to warm up to the new decor, but Moira won them over. And so did Nancy.”

“So did Nancy what?” said the woman herself, placing two sandwiches in front of us.

“So did Nancy prove herself to be a goddess of the kitchen, so all of Orchard and the students of Marytown came to worship at her feet. Thanks, Nancy, this looks like just what the doctor ordered,” Ben proclaimed, hand over his heart.

“Ben Clover, you look like ten miles of bad road.”

“Feel like eleven,” he said, dropping the false bravado as he took a sip of coffee.

“Did you go out last night sowing your wild oats?”

“Sowing my wild oats? How old are you, Nancy, eighty? I dropped Ruth home around nine thirty. Where would I sow my wild oats in Orchard at nine thirty on a Sunday night? If you must know, I have terrible insomnia that kicks in every once in a while. It has kicked in this week, ever since Thom was”—he stopped and cleared his throat—“ever since Thom passed.”

Nancy put her hand on my shoulder. “We're all having
trouble sleeping these days. I saw the chief a little while ago. He says there's no news, but I don't see how that's possible. How could it take so long?”

“Mum!” Moira bellowed over the crowd.

“Back to it. Enjoy your food.”

Ben watched her go, then turned, picked up his sandwich, and took a bite.

“Is there something wrong with your food?” he asked with his mouth full, looking meaningfully at my untouched sandwich.

“No, I'm sure it's great. I just keep thinking of all the things I have to get done before Caroline comes by this morning. Maybe I'll get this to go,” I said, starting to lift up my plate.

“Oh no you don't,” Ben said, reaching out and gently pressing the plate back to the table. “Not allowed.”

“Not allowed?” I asked.

“Three reasons. First, you need to respect the food. And it demands to be eaten right away, while it's hot. Second, you need to eat. I'd imagine you have a full day ahead, and breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And third, I'd like the company. What do you say?”

What could I say? I picked up my sandwich and took a bite. Wow. The bread was fresh Italian bread, pan toasted in butter. The egg was over easy, the cheese a mixture of cheddar and something sharp, maybe Asiago, and the bacon was crispy, but not overcooked. Just perfection.

“See what I'm saying?” Ben asked. “If you'd waited till you got home, the cheese would have started to congeal. Not good. Trust me, you need to eat these when they are fresh. Some of the other food is to-go worthy, but not these.”

“Thanks for the food lesson,” I said, taking another bite.

“Anytime. These are the things I can give lessons on. Food, baseball, and the best places to buy treats for your dog.”

“And barbering? Is that the word?” I said, taking another bite.

“It is. I've still got a lot to learn about barbering, but I'm learning.”

“It's hard to run a business,” I said. “Sounds like you're trying to adapt, though.”

“I think the changes Aunt Flo suggested will help with the folks from Orchard. And I'm running a student special at Harris University that's starting to kick in. I'm figuring it all out. What? You look like you want to say something.”

“I don't want you to take this the wrong way,” I said.

“Go ahead.”

“I remember your aunt and uncle. She always had perfectly coiffed hair. It was a little crazy, but it was done. And your uncle? Perfectly shaved, hair trimmed.”

“And I'm, what?” At least he was smiling.

“A little scruffy,” I said, hating that I was blushing.

“A little scruffy? I'm alone in the shop, no one there to cut my hair. No matter how good I am, it looks like I cut it myself. And the beard? I hate shaving with the passion of a solar flare.”

“Ha. Well, that explains it.”

“Not a great advertisement for a barbershop owner,” he said.

“Can I tell you a secret?” I asked.

“Anything,” he said, looking very serious.

“I'm a very good horologist. I fix a mean clock. But I can't keep time to save my soul. I'm late for everything. And
when I get going on work, I completely lose track of time. It used to drive my husband crazy.”

“Well, he must have been crazy to let you go.”

I laughed out loud. “Boy, that's quite a line, Barber Ben,” I said.

“You have a great laugh. You should use it more often.”

“Another great line.”

“Not a line, the truth.” I looked at Ben and sobered up again. It'd been a long time since someone had tried a line on me. A long, long time.

“Darn, it's back,” Ben said.

“What?”

“The shadow that comes across your face every once in a while. It's like I can see your memories creeping in and causing you pain. I really hope it all gets easier for you soon, Ruth Clagan.”

“I do too, thanks,” I said. I fumbled with my coffee mug, but finally took a long sip. Ben Clover was a nice guy. I thought they were extinct.

“Caroline and I are going to talk about the business. It's more complicated than I expected. I've been trying to piece together G.T.'s intentions for the Cog & Sprocket. Was he going to sell it? Or not? Was he trying to rebuild the clock tower? Why'd he buy so many clocks?

“I looked at his calendar, and it looked like he met with you several times. Maybe you could help me understand him better.”

“Met with me? Not meetings, really. We ate dinner pretty regularly when Caroline was out of town. And had lunch once a week. I really enjoyed his company. And I loved hearing about Orchard back in the day.”

“It seems like it's changed a lot since I left.”

“Times have been tough. I think folks are tired of struggling, and when someone offers them an easy way out, it's tough not to take it.”

“An easy way out?”

“Like buying up property to rebuild Orchard into the model of a modern Berkshire town. Thom called it an amusement park for city folks who wanted small-town charm. They even wanted to build bus depots so they could park after they'd shipped in tourists.”

“Who's they?”

“Kim Gray and some of the so-called business leaders in town. Thom was working on convincing people to see beyond dollar signs into what it would mean long-term for Orchard.”

“Did they offer you money?”

“They did, and I turned them down flat. So did Moira. But across the street, they were making headway. Money was pitting neighbor against neighbor, and it wasn't pretty. I was trying to help Thom get the rest of the town on his side, but it was slow going. Kim's a good chess player. Every time Thom would make a move, Kim would have anticipated it and be ready for a zoning commission meeting or a vote by the board. I asked Aunt Flo to come back and help me run the business and to help Thom and me make a case for keeping the old Town Hall.”

“Is she going to?”

“She has some things to wrap up, but then she's coming back. Sorry to say, it's too late to work with Thom. They would have been a great team.”

I didn't doubt it.

“Listen, I know you have a lot on your plate right now and I don't want to add to it. But you'll let me know if you're going to sell, won't you?”

“Why, are you interested in buying a clock shop?” I asked.

“I'm interested in trying to save Orchard. And I think the Cog & Sprocket is critical to that plan.”

We ate in silence for a few minutes and then Ben got up to refill his coffee. He took my mug as well and I watched him walk across the diner, saying hello to many of the people, smiling at everyone. He looked like a modern-day cowboy. Maybe he could save Orchard after all.

Ben almost ran into Aggie Kurt at the coffee urn. Even she ended up talking to him for a moment, and smiling while she watched him walk back toward me.

“It must have been a heck of a line to get Aggie Kurt to laugh,” I said.

“She's a tough audience, that's for sure. But she loves dirty jokes.”

“Dirty jokes?”

“Yeah, well, don't judge. A happy Aggie is good for everyone, trust me.”

“Oh, I do. She seems like she's got a lot on her mind. I've only met her once, but I've seen her around town a couple more times. She always seems sad and a little distracted.”

“Aggie has had a really bad run of luck. She lost her husband, her business, and both her parents within a two-year span of time. People were sympathetic at first, but she wore most everyone out. Your grandfather was one of the best friends she had left. Thom always treated everyone with
respect. And he also had strong opinions and a unique way of looking at the world.”