The general timeline and events of the story have stayed the same. The main difference is Will's character's conflict, so hopefully it makes more sense now.

In slow, circular motions, I pour boiling water into the coffee maker, watching the ground beans foam into a gentle mass of light-brown bubbles. Once the final drops have filtered through, I pour it onto some ice and set the glass on a tray. It's our new signature blend, and I'm eager to have my friends try it.

The soft click-clacking of heels makes its way towards me, and I look up to see Misty set down a stack of cups and plates.

"That couple, right there!" She points to an elderly pair. "They said our new blend was amazing!"

Indeed, it seems that everyone is enjoying it. Even our oldest patrons approve of the new blend. I look around the shop, taking in the lively chatter of our customers, the clinking of glass against wooden tables, and the charming atmosphere of the place. In some ways the shop hasn't changed at all. But ever since my parents passed the business onto me, I've added my own touches to the space, like installing new light fixtures, adjusting the shop's colour palette for a modern look, and rearranging the tables to give the shop a more welcoming space. Through it all though, I've been careful not to change too much.

I nod along as Misty rambles on about our customers' verdicts. I never doubted the blend, of course; I had Misty and Connor approve it (both who are the pickiest coffee lovers I've ever known). The blend itself wasn't too different from its predecessor either, though it was my first time altering one of my family's oldest recipes. Perhaps it was less of a new direction for A Cup of Comfort, and more of my first step forward as the owner.

It's validating to see that the new blend, my new blend, has been a success. More than that, it feels refreshing to switch up the menu, like I was finally making the business my own. Even so, I can't help but feel like I'm taking something away from my parents.

I reach out to do the dishes, but Misty stops me. "I can do it. It's been a long time since you've seen them, after all."

I glance over to the table where my friends are laughing at something Anthony said. One of his jokes, no doubt. "Well yes, but-"

"Connor will take care of the other orders. Right, Connor?" She looks pointedly at the disheveled college student who barely manages to avoid breaking another plate.

"Huh? Uh, yeah sure. Lemme just..." He grabs a tray of Vietnamese baguettes (which has been sitting on the counter for some time) and hurries to a table.

"Don't worry about it, boss," Misty assures. She starts doing the dishes. "We got this."

My eyes stray to the shop's windows, where the sky is beginning to turn red and orange. It's almost the end of the day, I convince myself. I deserve this. "Thank you," I murmur. I take my tray of orders and walk to my friends, who are seated against a wall adorned with vintage family photos.

"Will!" My friends do a small cheer as I approach. I smile, embarrassed, while my stomach does a nervous happy-dance. I should be used to them making me the center of attention by now, but the curious glances in our direction make me want to disappear. And in my own coffee shop, too!

"What's up, my man?" Anthony claps me on the back. "That coffee smells good!"

"Pink Apron! You never change," says Basim. I make a face, though at this point I've accepted that it's become my permanent nickname. I can only hope Basim won't come up with something worse.

"How have you been?" Katya asks.

Eddie stands up to give me a hug. "Missed you," he tells me.

I grin. "You too, Ed." To the rest of them, I add, "This time it's on the house for real. Don't even try to argue with me, alright?"

I grab an extra chair, and for the next ten minutes we catch up on each other's lives. They approve of the new blend, complimenting its rich flavour. Anthony has an exciting gig at the Rose Theatre next week, and we promise him we'll all be there to watch him play. Basim regrets his career choice as a high school teacher ("Their mood swings faster than a pendulum, I'm telling you"), which makes me think about how terrible we must have been as teenagers. Katya talks a bit about her work as an ethologist, though it's evident Anthony and I can't understand half of what she's saying, despite her infinite patience. Eddie shares a playlist of songs he listens to while working in his garage. It soon turned into a debate over which decade had the best music.

"And how are you faring, William?" says Katya. She tilts her head, and her glasses shift off-center from her nose. "Anything new?"

I drum my fingers on the table and let out a sigh. "The usual. The staff and I are thinking of updating the menu and giving it a fresh look, but we can't decide what items to add." Or more accurately, which items I'm willing to part with. No matter how long I stare at my parents' menu, I can never bring myself to cross out any of the items that have become so entwined with the shop itself.

"Make a seasonal selection," Basim suggests. He jiggles the ice in his glass. "Summer isn't the only season here."

I hum thoughtfully. We do have the regular selections of lattes, espressos, and so on, but they don't sell as well as our Vietnamese-inspired menu items. My parents had wondered about it too, though I prefer to think it's because of my parents' love for our home country. Their passion was the secret ingredient that won over our foreign customer base. As childish as it sounds, there's no doubt that they worked hard to make their dreams a reality here in Canada.

My parents would always emphasize the importance of loving what you do. If you brew with love, they'd say, that's all you need to know to make great coffee. It was what guided me through the months after they passed. The reassurance that as long as I brew with my heart, I can continue my parents' business and in a way, their legacy.

"Seasonal items would be a good idea if you're looking for direction in your menu," Katya agrees, then perks up, as if she's remembered something. "Will, are you thinking of providing other services? Like serving at special events?"

"Hey Anthony, we're crashing at your place after this right?" Eddie asks. I blink, still trying to process Katya's words as Eddie holds up his backpack and grins. "I brought snacks and stuff--enough for all of us."

"'Stuff' better not include anything shady," Anthony warns, wagging his finger for emphasis. "I have my parents to think about."

Basim leans back in his chair. There's a glint in his eye. "Eddie, don't think you can switch the subject so fast." I raise an eyebrow, because his tone has an all-knowing air to it. "Katya, remind us what you were about to say. Something about, oh I don't know, Will serving coffee at your wedding?"

Anthony nearly spews out his coffee. "Excuse? Since when?"

I whip my head to Eddie and Katya, who scowls and quirks a smile respectively. I stand up, nearly knocking over my chair. "No way! Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"Get down," Eddie grumbles. "It's not for a couple of more years."

"But..." Katya says slyly, "we are engaged." Katya reveals her ring, and Eddie grudgingly shows us his, which hangs from a simple cord on his neck.

Eddie glares at Basim, though Basim is untouchable when it comes to threats and rebukes; there's nothing you could say that he wouldn't one-up. Eventually Katya coaxes the two out of their stare-down match.

"Hey, there's nothing to be embarrassed about," Anthony says with a grin. He tips his hat to the engaged couple. "Congrats to the both of you." I nod in agreement, though I'm at a loss for words. I'm happy for them, of course. But seeing Katya and Eddie be so...ready to move onto the next stage in life has reignited my own thoughts about moving forward myself.

Basim glances at me, and I know that he knows what I'm thinking. I've talked about it to him countless times after all. At the table behind us, I can hear Misty and a customer joking about the secrets behind the new signature blend. Basim gives me a meaningful look, as if to say, See? You don't need to hold yourself back.

I shrug uncomfortably and my eyes wander to the rest of the shop, taking in the familiar space.

It isn't that I didn't like the shop. I love everything about it--waking up early to start the day, brewing the coffee, and making conversation with our customers. To give others a place where they felt at home, somewhere they could talk and meet up with people...it's the most rewarding part of owning the business. I wouldn't be able to do any of this had my parents not taught me the things I value to this day.

But still...I want to do it my way now. Is that so wrong?

"Are you okay, William?" Katya asks.

I look up to see that the whole group has gone quiet. Not only that, but the shop is devoid of people. Connor goes to the door to flip the "Open" sign to "Closed". Misty comes out from the counter and starts wiping down a table.

I clear my throat. "Nothing, I was just..."

"Come on, just say it," says Eddie. Everyone looks at him. "What? We're gonna ignore that something's going on with Will?"

I get the hunch that Eddie knew all along, and give in. "Do you think I've changed it too much after my parents died? The shop, I mean."

Anthony raises an eyebrow. "Would that be a bad thing?"

"I don't know." I look up at the vintage photos hung up on the wall; the Nguyen family's legacy preserved in a series of pictures. "The shop's been in my family for generations. It has a lot of history and people behind it. When it's essentially a family heirloom that everyone is so proud of, you'd want to preserve the business as much as possible. Change doesn't come so easily, you know?"

I sigh, then shake my head. "I have so many ideas for what I could do with the shop and how to make it better. I want change. But I can't even decide what to do with the menu because doing anything would be like erasing a part of my parents."

Katya leans forward. "Will, your parents trusted you with their business for a reason. Wouldn't they want what's best for the shop? If that means changing some things, I think they'll understand."

"There's plenty of ways you can help the shop move forward while keeping true to what your parents wanted," Anthony points out. "Aren't you doing that already?"

"Just do what you feel is right," says Eddie. He gives me a look that's nearly indecipherable. "Yeah, it's a family business, but right now it's in your own hands. Nobody else can tell you what to do with your shop."

His words ring true, but I don't feel any more satisfied. I gradually become aware of how uncomfortable the situation is. The conversation has ended, but the issue refuses to be dropped. Everyone is still thinking about it. Then someone clears their throat. I turn to see Connor standing sheepishly behind the counter. He holds up two jars of coffee beans. "I think I mixed up the two..."

The air relaxes at the table. I stand and head over to him, knowing that he hasn't mixed them at all. Connor knows his coffee varieties too well to do that. Wordlessly, he hands me a towel and winks. I give him a small nod and start to wipe down one of the tables on the far end of the shop. It's far, but not too far that I can't hear my friends talking amongst themselves.

They're talking about the photographs on the wall.

"Was Will really that short?"

"Do you think he is okay?"

"At least his parents gave a damn about him."

"Eddie."

"I miss the Nguyens though. Good people. Seems like yesterday that they'd welcomed us at the door, right?" There's a chorus of agreement.

"Hey, remember when we first came here?" Basim asks. "That's how we met Will, but we didn't know his name until he came up to us and said his name wasn't Pink Apron."

"And he never stopped wearing it." My cheeks warm.

"Wasn't Eddie the one who hated coffee? Then made this table his second home?"

"Because there wasn't a proper place to study on campus without you guys bothering me."

"Eddie, everyone knows coffee was your lifeline for pulling all-nighters. I shudder to think about what would've happened if we didn't drag you here."

Meeting my friends was the best thing that could've happened after moving to Canada. They made me feel more at home, and meeting them was when I finally started to believe what my parents had said.

When my parents had first broached the topic, I had balked at the idea. Weren't they afraid of leaving everything and everyone behind? How would things change? But my parents were determined that it was the right thing to do. Though they were just as nervous as I, they taught me how to be brave. I shouldn't be afraid of taking my future into my own hands, they said. Even if that meant stepping into the unknown, and leaving behind the things that were familiar to you, good would always come out from it. Not everything needed to change, either, and though we were in Canada my parents never forgot about the cultural core of their business.

My parents encouraged me to carve out my own path, to move onward while continuing to keep the tradition alive in my own way, and in the ways that mattered. Isn't that what they wanted for me? Isn't that what I want too? Katya was right. My parents have passed on the business to me because they trusted that I would, in my own way carry on the family's legacy. Change didn't mean abandoning everything my family had worked up for. It meant adjusting to the future, and ultimately making it better. And like Eddie said, it's my business. My parents taught me everything they could. Now it's my turn to run the shop using their knowledge as well as my own.

I finish wiping the tables and scan the shop. Misty and Connor are restocking coffee bean jars and washing the last dishes. My friends are getting ready to leave. Katya catches my eye and smiles. "The coffee was excellent, Will."

Her unspoken words reach me. I smile, and she smiles back.

Basim grins and swings his car keys around his finger. "Ready to go? I can't wait to beat you guys at Monopoly."

Anthony and I exchange a look of dread. "We need to team up," I tell him.

Eddie mutters, "And that worked out great for us last time." He elbows me in the ribs. "Teach me the secret for brewing your new blend, and we'll call it a deal."

"I heard that!" Basim prepares to head out, propping open the door for Connor and Misty, who wave me good-bye. "Come on. We can't have our Will missing his bedtime."

"I'll stay awake this time!" I insist. "Promise."

He shrugs and heads out, the others following suit. I shut off the lights and lock the door. Taking a moment to gaze at the empty shop, I can already see it merge with my vision for its future. I imagine the things I can do, the possibilities that lie ahead. A small rush of elation fills me.

"Ay Will, any moment longer and we're leaving without you! Three, two—"

"I'm coming!" I make a dash to the car where my friends are waiting for me. I hop in, and we drive into the night.