codger? Several people had asked about Edward Reynolds last night.
Ella pulled into an empty spot along the village green and got out, slinging her messenger bag over her body and crossed the street to the bakery. Happily, she spotted her father sitting at a table, reading a newspaper. Stepping into the shop, she paused a moment to breathe in the delicious smells. Then she walked over to her dad’s table and sat down. Immediately, he dropped his newspaper and smiled at her. “Honey! What a nice surprise!” he stood up to give her a hug before sitting down again. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you out discovering the next horrific injustice in the world?” he teased.
Ella smiled and leaned her elbows onto the table. “Taking a break from horrific injustices this morning. I stopped in to grab a muffin and spotted you through the window.” She tilted her head towards his newspaper. “You know, you can get that online now. You don’t have to get the ink all over your fingers anymore.”
He laughed and folded his newspaper. “Of all the people to tell me not to get a newspaper, I’d think you’d be the last.”
She smiled and shrugged one shoulder. “I’m a reporter, so I’m definitely an advocate for an informed citizenry. But news outlets get most of their revenue from online advertising now. Almost no one reads an actual paper these days. Online is better for the environment,” she pointed out.
“True, but I do a lot for the environment already,” he huffed with a wink. “This will be my one vice.”
“You have only one vice?” she teased.
He chuckled. “Perhaps more than one.”
“I’m going to grab a muffin and some coffee. Do you want anything else?” she asked.
Tom shook his head. “I just finished lunch,” he told her and glanced at his watch, then looked at her with an expression that said she was running behind.
Ella laughed. “I worked late last night,” she told him, which was the truth, but not the reason she was so exhausted today. “I’ll be right back.”
Five minutes later, she came back to his table with a warm muffin and a steaming cup of black coffee. In college, she’d loved those specialty coffees with the foam and the flavored syrups. But after being in Africa and the various countries for so many years, she’d come to love a good cup of strong, black coffee, savoring the flavor and richness of the beans.
While she ate her muffin, Ella and her father talked about various topics, but several times, she caught her father glancing over at Ingrid, the bakery owner. Ingrid was about the same age as her father, and had owned this bakery for at least ten years, but Ella hadn’t ever noticed any romantic interest between them. Even as she watched, Ella’s father snuck another peek at the kind-hearted baker, then quickly away.
“So…” she said, smiling at her father and leaning forward on her elbows. “How’s your love life, Dad?” she asked, wanting to open the subject that had never occurred to her before.
Tom sputtered slightly, then shook his head. “I don’t…I’m not…” he glanced over at the baker, who was watching. It seemed Ingrid wanted to hear Tom’s response and Ella’s heart ached for both of them.
Ella wrapped her fingers around the coffee cup. “You know Dad, Mom died a long time ago.”
He looked down at his own hands. “I know that, honey.”
Ella put her hands on her dad’s. “Dad, I think it’s time that you moved on with your life.” She waited and, slowly, he lifted his eyes to look at her. “Mom was an incredible woman,” Ella told him. “But she wouldn’t have wanted you to live only with memories of her for the rest of your life. She died a long time ago. Perhaps it is time that you found someone new to share your life with.” She paused and his eyes teared up. “Maybe someone who knows how to bake wonderful muffins,” she added in a whisper.
Tom chuckled and took a deep breath, shifting in his chair. “You wouldn’t mind? Your mother was a good woman.”
“Of course I wouldn’t mind,” Ella replied. “She was great. And nobody can take her place in my heart. I don’t think that you could ever replace her in yours either, but I suspect that there is some room for another woman in there. Not better, just…different. Someone who is here and can be with you. Memories are cold and can’t snuggle with