Page 64 of Secret Spark
Joan had tried to tell her yesterday. She really had. But then Sadie saw her rescue that little dog, and kissed her soundly, and made Joan forget for a few moments that she wasn’t heroic. She didn’t want the admiration shining in Sadie’s brown eyes to dim.
Sadie thought of Spark the way all norms did. Not like Joan could sayI’m actually the scary menace you’re afraid of. The new plan was to show her all Villains weren’t bad. That Spark was no saint, but not a fire-breathing monster.
Joan tipped her tall coffee mug back to catch the last drops of the cappuccino Sadie had infused with cinnamon and nutmeg. “You definitely need to put this on the menu.”
“It’s similar to a seasonal offering at VCC,” Sadie said. “I use a lot of pumpkin spice syrup in the fall and winter.”
“You could do this one for the holidays. Add a little gingerbread man cookie to the mug.”
“Oh, wait until you see what I whip up around the holidays.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“Looking forward to it,” Joan said, squeezing Sadie’s thigh through her green pants.
Sadie rested her hand on Joan’s. “My latte art gets very yuletide-y.”
Lacing their fingers, Joan said, “Will you show me how to do latte art tomorrow? Brunch date at your place?”
“Sure.”
They shared a smile, then turned back to their plates, still holding hands. “I can picture how Sadie’s Café would look in the fall and winter,” Joan said.
“So cozy. I’d switch out the pillows and some décor for rich earthy tones and leaves. And lots of twinkle lights in the winter. Not that we have cold winters, but I want to make it feel like you’re stepping out of the snow into a warm, woodsy cottage.”
“I love that. We should be taking notes for all this stuff.”
Sadie made a vague shrug, focusing on her piece of sourdough toast. Her phone chimed on the island countertop with a new text. She glanced at it, groan-grumbling.
“More crime?” Joan guessed.
“Mom wants to make sure I got the links to the articles. All three of them.” Sadie rolled her eyes.
Her mom had been texting about recent crimes in Vector City. A news item about the art museum robbery the other night, one about a sculpture stolen from the front yard of a historic home, another about an art gallery that got hit last night. Joan hadn’t been aware of the last two.
“Let me text her really quick so she knows I’m okay.” Sadie slipped her fingers free. “I try not to complain because I know my parents mean well.”
It seemed more like they were smothering her, but what did Joan know about a good parent/child relationship? From the way Sadie acted with each message, it was clear she was being sensitive to Joan’s strained parental situation, which was thoughtful.
As Sadie typed, Joan checked her phone. Nothing new under Mark’s last text.
P never came home last night. Still not home unless he’s taking one of his epic dead to the world naps.
Perry had done his usual disappearing act. That wasn’t unusual when he didn’t want to face someone or something. He knew Joan was mad at him for doing the museum heist despite not wanting to be seen around town with Melvin and Company. If he was out there doing jobs with—or worse,forMelvin…
It was going to be damn near impossible to get him to cut back or lay low. And no way would he do anything to help the Supers. Perry didn’t have a different dream to pursue. Stealing a VanderHoovenwashis dream. She and Mark couldn’t foist their dream upon him if he didn’t want it.
Sadie pushed her phone across the island. “I told her I’m having brunch with a friend so she’ll hopefully get the hint.”
Speaking of dreams…“Did you tell her we’re talking about Sadie’s Café?”
“There’s no point. She doesn’t think it’s real.”
“You know what you’re doing, and you’re really excited about it. I’d say that’s as real as anything.”
“Yeah, but…” Sadie wrinkled her nose. “I haven’t done anything about it in thirty-four years. I can’t blame my family for thinking I never will.”
“There’s no timetable for these things. I’m thirty-five and considering a career change.”
“I know,” she sighed.