𝓢𝓱𝓸𝔀𝔂's Arc

Chapter 7 of 4

The stove held, but the tables stayed empty. Showy stood in the warm room and looked at her four hard wooden chairs. Anyone who sat in them would rest a minute, then leave. No one lingered. No one thawed. The vase of daisy, rose, and lily sat on the counter, bright and useless. Warmth alone did not make a cafe. She needed a place where a frozen traveler wanted to stay. She counted her coins on the counter. Not enough for chairs, let alone soft ones. She fed the fire and pulled her earmuffs on. She would ask Luna. Luna had gifted her the stove and watched over the cafe since the first storm. If anyone knew where to find soft seats, it was her. Showy walked the packed snow path to the huge pink house with white trim. Glowing windows spilled gold on the drifts. Luna opened the door before she knocked, wiping her hands on an apron. "You've got soot on your nose again," she said, and grinned. "My chairs are wood," Showy said. "No one stays. I fixed the smoke and the wood and the flue, and still nobody rests." Luna's grin faded into thought. She looked past Showy at the cold. Then she waved her inside. "Come see the attic. My family stored things when we downsized." They climbed narrow stairs. Under a dust sheet sat an oversized ivory couch, rounded arms, deep cushions, pastel pillows stitched with tiny stars and clouds. Showy pressed her hand into it. Her whole palm sank. She thought of a traveler falling into that after a hard road. "It's too big for us now," Luna said. "Take it. Anyone who sits in that won't want to get up." Getting it down the stairs took an hour and every ounce of both their backs. They dragged it through the snow on a sled, tipped it through the cafe door, and shoved it beside the stove. Showy dropped a pillow at each end. She stepped back and looked. The room changed. It was no longer a place to pass through. It was a place to sink into. Her orange cat wandered from its pink bed, climbed the cushion, and curled up in the corner. Luna laughed. "There. First customer." Showy set the flower vase on the low table beside the couch. She banked the fire higher. Warmth reached the soft seat now, and the seat reached back to anyone who came. She had made a place to stay. But as Luna left, Showy looked at the single couch and the empty berry basket on the counter. A traveler could rest now. What would she feed them? She had warmth and a soft seat and nothing to serve. The next problem was already on the counter, waiting.