“Well, I guess we’re stuck here,” she said with almost a chirp. “Not that I mind.”
“I do. I have perishables.”
“Oh, that’s—”
“And so do you.”
“—true.”
Setting down my basket next to hers, I patted the bar stool just under the lip of the counter. “Have a seat, if you wish.”
“Oh, thank you.”
Walking up to the windows, another wave of rain battered the storefront. Then again and again. It was almost musical, how it rhythmically yet spontaneously thrummed the glass in waves of a thousand pellets. The streaks they left contorted lights and shadows over and over, creating an ever changing and mesmerizing display. Beautifully abstract.
“Well,” Jane sighed, her stool creaking. “This is more like the weather I’m used to.”
“Yes, I was thinking the same earlier today.”
“Wouldn’t be the same without it.” She yawned, her voice a little bit mumbled.
Following the streaks down, I noticed one of the flowers at the front window was dropping its petals. Lifting its head, I checked some of the other displays, becoming distracted.
“You know, I had a thought the other day…” Jane mumbled on. “You know, Beth told me how they decommissioned, you know, one of the old rails so they could link it up to the bigger and better one they’re building right now… and I was just thinking how stupid of a route she would need to take to get in and out of the city.”
I pulled out the flowers I didn’t want to keep and brought them to my basket. Jane was leant over on her elbow, palm deep into her cheek as she aimlessly stared towards the storefront.
“Because they aren’t running trams along the new rails while they work on it. So it’s just, you know, utterly stupid, all of it. It’s going to be hard for her to get to the bakery for god knows how long.”
“Right…”
“And on a day like this, it’s going to be dreadful. Just utterly dreadful!”
“Is she going to walk, then? How close is the nearest station?”
“She’ll have to walk to the next door village and use their tram. Thankfully, that line also stops by the usual station, so once she’s in town, she’s here. But, it also stops by later than hers, by about twenty minutes.”
Crossing my arms, I leant my elbows on the counter, giving her my attention as she talked.
“So she’s trying to see if the baker would let her come in later, otherwise, you know, she’ll have to come in an hour earlier. And… adding that on top of the time she’ll spend walking to the station, all of a sudden she’s waking up two hours earlier every morning.”
“Such is the world we live in, unfortunately,” I sighed.
“If I were her, I’d throw a fit!” she cried, straightening up. “An absolute fit!”
“Rarely does that change anything.”
“On a day like this, where it’s just broody? You’d be absolutely drenched! There’s no way you could come into work like that!”
“I understand, I understand.” I rubbed my right arm, sticky from the humidity, between my thumb and index.
With a heavy sigh, she palmed her chin. “Sorry, I’m getting worked up again.”
“I mean…” I hunched over, slightly shrugging. “Rightly so. No need to apologise.”
Jane sighed again. “You’re right. I don’t know why I feel the need to apologise. Even with you.”
As she fell silent, we were once more listening to the rain. It did not relent one bit. Lifting one foot to its toes, I idly tapped the floor a few times, then swayed it back and forth on the tip of my shoe.
“Hey, now, I didn’t take your only chair, did I?”
I straightened. “Oh, no, don’t worry.”
Laughing, she lifted her head. “I’ve always said: serve yourself if you’re going to serve me!”
Wrapping around, I sat down on my side of the counter. “I wasn’t thinking about it, truthfully. I was working around the shop earlier.”
“No, I understand!” she continued to giggle. “I’m just teasing.”
I crossed my arms again, rubbing both of my forearms this time. “I didn’t think we’d be staying here that much longer, either.”
“Just trying to lighten the mood, since you’ve seemed so wound up recently.”