"Good morning!" I wave to Mrs. Daughtry as I pass her small cottage on my bicycle. She waves in response, and for a moment the water from her flowered watering can splashes against the pavement, before she realizes and redirects it towards her lilacs. I smile to myself, and turn my face towards the wind, letting it be caught in the web of my dark hair. The dew like salty sea air clings to my lips, and I can almost taste the desolate cliffs. My legs began to ache as I pedal uphill along the path into town, my motivation for the moment being the sunrise hued tulips in my basket. A gift to Mr. and Mrs. Evans, who kindly invited me into their home for dinner a few days ago when I was caught out in the rain. They had both mentioned their enjoyment for watching the sunrise every morning, and I thought the flowers captured it perfectly. I arrive at their home, a small flat in an old building of grey stone. I leave my bicycle upright against the small gate encircling the garden in front. Ringing the doorbell, I only wait for a moment before Mrs. Evans opens it. She tells me her husband is meeting with some friends. I hand her the bundle of tulips, wrapped in golden tissue paper. "Thank you so much for the dinner the other night. It was so kind of you," I tell her smiling.

"It was nothing!" she smiles back. "Anytime you need anything, you can come to us. These flowers are gorgeous." She sticks her nose among the petals and inhales deeply. "They'll be a beautiful addition to our table. Thank you," she says.

"Well, you are most welcome. Thank you again!" I wave to her as I walk back to my bicycle. Taking it up, I pedal down the sidewalk, past the fabric store, and the small post office. I pass several cafes, where people are reading the paper and enjoying their breakfast with tea or coffee. I pass the artist's studio, where paintings hang in the window depicting flowering orchards, and beautiful porcelain plates are displayed on shelves. Finally I reach the cafe that I work at. It's connected to a bookstore and paperie, so it kind of serves as both. Going around back of the cottage like building on the street corner, I hurriedly take out my bike lock and secure it to one of the racks, before pulling my apron out of the basket. Tying it on, I enter through the back door into the kitchen.

"Tajana you're late," I hear Millie's voice greet me. I cringe. She runs the place, and is overall pretty kind, but she holds high expectations, is strict, and can be demanding. 

"Sorry Ma'am," I say, pulling my hair into a messy bun. I see Emory glance over briefly. He's sort of like Millie's right hand, and takes care of everything when she's not here. He always seemed friendly to me, like someone I could have been friends with, maybe in another situation. I feel a slight twinge of jealousy as I watch him tease Ciara about wearing her apron inside out. They've been friends for a while and go to university together. I sigh. Wish I could have friends like that, I think, before chastising myself for being too dramatic. I turn away and see Shay enter, carrying a stack of precariously balanced teacups. He's somewhat reserved and doesn't talk much, but gets along well with everyone. He's the youngest person who works here, being two years younger than myself. 

"You're needed out there. Full house today," Shay tells me as he passes. I nod and venture out of the kitchen into the café side of the place. There are several tables, and some chairs by the window. Many of the people are typing away on their laptops, occasionally taking pauses to drink from their mugs. Bookshelves surround the area, and some people glaze over book titles. I find a table with someone still looking at a menu. Taking a deep breath, I take out my notepad and approach them. I wear my friendliest smile as they look up. It's a man with his daughter, who is scribbling with purple crayons on a sheet of paper.

"Hello, welcome to the Honeybee Café," I say. "What can I get for you today?" He orders the basic pastries and tea. Jotting down the order, I give one last smile, and head back into the kitchen, tearing off the note and clipping it behind the others. I take several more orders before the breakfast crowd slows down.

In an attempt at a quick break, I lean against the counters and inhale the sweet smell of freshly baked honey cakes and lemon scones.

"Hey Tajana," Ciara says, walking over to me.

"Hey," I reply.

"Busy day, Huh?" she continues conversationally.

"Yeah," I agree. "How's school?" I ask.

"Oh it's alright. I have a couple exams coming up."

"I wish you luck."

"Thanks!" She laughs, and wanders off. Millie comes next, staggering under a large box of books. She's not very tall, so I can barely see her over the rim of brown cardboard.

"Do you mind shelving these?" she asks.

"I'm on it," I take the box from her and head into the book store. I go section by section, putting books in order, and taking a couple peeks at the ones that look promising. One with cherry blossoms on the cover titled The Nameless, grabs my attention, and I begin reading the first few paragraphs. Emory catches me in the act.

"Reading on the job Tajana?" he laughs. I'm surprised. He's only talked to me a total of about four times in the three months I've worked here.

"You got me," I say rather unenthusiastically, closing the book and putting it on the shelf. He smiles, and reaches into the box, pulling out a book with a cover of an intricately painted building.

Handing it to me, he says "We should display this one on top of the shelf. It'll catch people's attention."

"Sure," I reply, placing it on the book holder. He reaches up and scoots it into a more visible spot.

"There." He stands back. "You know, I've never really talked to you," he mentions suddenly.

"I don't talk much," I say before I can stop myself. Emory just laughs.

"The silent type I suppose?" he says. I shrug.

"I guess." Every stupid thing I've ever said flashes through my mind. Too many mistakes on my part, turning people away. Long ago I made a rule to only speak when spoken to. 

"I always manage to get a few words out of people." Emory leans against the bookshelf. I eye him. The shelves aren't that stable and I fear it may tip over.

"Right," he says, as if reading my mind, and steps away from it. "Millie always warns," he adds, looking around to make sure the boss didn't see.

"Well if you're going to stand here, at least make yourself useful." I motion to the box.

"Right again." Emory bends down, bringing up a stack. We work in silence for a while before he departs to help more in the kitchen. I finish up on my own and step out to put the box in the recycling. A stray dog barks at me, and I quickly step back in, running right into Shay, stepping on his foot, and tripping all at the same time. He grabs my arm, pulling me back up.

"Oh goodness, I'm so sorry," I turn to face him, probably very visibly red  in the face. He let's go and steps way.

"Don't worry about it," he answers, giving me a half smile before brushing past me into the storage room. I stand there for a moment, replaying the mishap and wishing I could disappear. I silently sulk in the corner for a moment, berating myself for my clumsiness, before spotting Millie and setting back to work.

Lunch break arrives soon, and I make myself a simple piece of avocado toast to have with my earl grey tea, and a leftover scone. All of us employees on break sit in a small back room around the table. Ciara and Emory tell of their crazy university adventures, while I wistfully gaze out the window at the falling rain . I've made it this far, but hopefully I'll figure things out soon and be able to start back on track. I sigh heavily, and look into the creamy depths of my tea.

"Do you have any interesting stories Tajana?" Ciara asks me. I think for a moment before replying.

"Well," I begin slowly. "Once I got somewhat lost somewhere in the woods and happened upon a pretty scary abandoned house. Luckily the only residents where a pair of angry beavers," I say. "I got a little too close, having not seen them, and they practically chased me about for a good few minutes before I was able to get out of there."

"That's frightening," Ciara comments.

"Are you sure they weren't trying to make you stay for tea?" Emory jokes.

"Ha ha," I say, rolling my eyes. It dawns on me, that for the first time in a while the storm inside me seems to be calm, and I smile, almost laugh. Almost. I notice Shay watching me, and I offer a smile. He blinks, and returns to looking at his phone. Millie looks up from her newspaper.

"Has everyone had a sufficient break yet?" she asks. Its her way of saying 'back to work'. We all get up, taking our dishes, and take turns washing them by hand. One of our cooks, Mateo, comes in through the back door, back from his lunch break also. He usually goes over to one of the close hotels to eat with his wife who works there. She comes over sometimes too though. They're both really nice, and love talking, but they always have interesting insights, which makes their conversations all the better. This time Mateo is carrying a basket covered with a blanket that keeps shifting. "Guys, come see what I found," he says in a low voice, beckoning to us. I hear something like the whining of a kitten come from the basket as I near it.

"Is that?" I begin, "Is that a cat?" Mateo nods, and takes the blanket off. A small Siamese kitten pokes its head out, blue eyes shining. It opens it's tiny mouth, revealing a pink tongue, and cries out.

"Ohh my god. It's adorable," Ciara reached towards it and strokes its brown head. The kitten purrs and reaches for her finger.

"Where did you find it?" Emory asks.

"Outside in a box by the hotel. Do you think Millie will let us keep it here?" Mateo replies.

"You are the cook. If you're okay with it, she probably is. I know she has a cat at home," Emory says.

"What do you guys think. You want the cat?"

"How could we refuse?" I speak, joining Ciara in petting it.

"What should we name it?" Shay asks, already jumping ahead.

"And what is this?" We all start at Millie's voice.

"Mateo found an adorable homeless kitty. Can we keep it? It could help attract customers. Everyone loves cats," Ciara poses, picking it up and cradling the kitten in her arms.

"And what about those who are allergic?" Millie asks skeptically.

"We can have days when one of us keeps the cat, and we can put up a schedule or something of the days with and without cat," I suggest.

"It can't be me or Ciara. We have roommates," Emory says.

"And I can't keep it. My wife and I have a budgie," Mateo says.

"Then Shay or I can, right?" I say turning to Shay, who hasn't said anything saying he couldn't.

"Yeah. My uncle loves cats," he agrees.

"If you're sure then. Good plan Tajana, I like it," Millie shrugs. To show her approval she comes over and gives the kitten a scratch behind the ears.

"Yes! Thank you Millie," Ciara exclaims.

"For now though, no letting the kitten anywhere near the customers. Not until we put up the schedule, and get it trained," Millie says before going off.

"What should we name him?" Ciara repeats Shay's question.

"It's a him now?" Emory says. Ciara nods.

"I think we should name him Tam Lin," I say, looking into the kitten's sky blue eyes.

"That's so stereotypical though," Emory protests.

"But look at him, it just fits," I insist.

"It kind of does," Ciara agrees.

"Tam Lin," Mateo repeats. "Wasn't that the name of some Scottish reel?"

"Yes," I reply.

"He is kind of lively," Mateo points out as the kitten squirms in Ciara's arms and jumps back into the basket.

"I like the name," Shay speaks.

"Fine, fine, Tam Lin it is," Emory gives in. Tam Lin mews in approval.