The rain picked up faster than I anticipated, though, and by the time we were halfway down Main Street, it was coming down in sheets. My umbrella turned itself inside out with a gust of wind, and I hurried toward the nearest awning for cover.
That awning happened to belong to a small café I’d passed many times but never gone inside. Its windows glowed warm with light, and the scent of roasted coffee beans drifted into the street as customers opened the door.
My shoes were already soaked through, and Violet was beginning to fuss. It seemed like a safe haven, a place to sit down, dry off, and feed the baby.
I pushed the stroller through the door, the little bell above it tinkling. Warmth enveloped me immediately, along with the sound of clinking cups and murmured conversation.
A young man behind the counter glanced up, then quickly back at the espresso machine. Nobody offered a greeting. That was fine; I didn’t expect red carpets or smiles. All I wanted was a seat where I could take Violet out of her wet blanket and give her a bottle.
