Tomorrow's the big day. I can'tbelieve my niece is going to be a
Christmas" in December, had thrown me. It was a strange salutation.
"Midsummer? It's a lovely tradition in many countries. But no, I don't
"When Iwas in culinary school, one of my classmates was Swedish,"
replayed in my mind in the weeks since, and before I could think twice, I
asked my aunt about it. "Have you ever heard of anyone around here
waist, her ever-present uniform when she worked in the café.
My brain conjured a memory from the summer, the one that had
outside Evergreen Academy and learned that it was another term for the
think many people celebrate it in the US."
rewind the clock on summer, though. It always goes by too quickly."
approvingly.
"You? Old? Never," I said witha grin, and my aunt—barely forty and
embroidered apron hung from her neck and was tied securelyaround her
Aunt Vera continued. "She told me that Midsummer is a holiday there, and
the receiver of plenty of attention from our male customers—nodded
"T
said "Happy Midsummer," as if it had been as common as saying "Merry
college student. It's making me feel old." My aunt wiped her hands
"Have I told you lately you're my favorite niece? I wish we could
people make flower crowns andwear them around. It soundeddelightful.
summer solstice, the longest day of the year. But the way the stranger had
on her apron and tucked a dark curl behind her ear. Her flower
celebrating Midsummer?"
I'd done a little research on it immediately after the day in the woods
Why do you ask?"
I shifted my weight and poured my attention back into stirring the batter
"That gives me an idea. We should start selling midsummer-themed
grateful for the distraction from my memories of the stranger inthe forest. I
there and sketched while her mom worked on a laptop at the window.
field of wildflowers.
"I've got it," I said. I went out to mix up a lavender latte for a customer,
there."
lax compared to most of my friends'parents, but that one wasn't likely to
I walked over to her. "May I see?"
"Just a second."I walked to the pastry counter, took out a cupcake, then
in the large commercial mixing bowl between my hands. I didn't want to
grounds at midnight, having conversations with strangers. Aunt Vera was
"Wow. That's beautiful, Emma. I like what you did with the contrast
Emma's mom paused her work when I came over with the cupcake and
"On Monday."
cookies. We could do the same when the seasons change to fall,winter, and
birthday."
a lighter.
the wall calendar when I heard the soft ting of the bell from the front room.
holiday here."
tell Aunt Vera that I'd been sneaking around on Evergreen Academy
running throughideas for decorating the cookies, cakes, and cupcakes that
"When was your birthday?"
she was famous for. New themes always excited her.
riffled through the drawer andfound a candle then nestledit into the
"It's just something I heard about this summer, and it's not a common
Emma beamed."Thanks. I got a new pastel charcoal set for my
used one of our piping tools to draw a purple flower and a cursive Emma. I
spring as well." I could see my aunt's brain—creative, like my own—
noticed a middle school student, Emma, seated in the corner. She often sat
Emma nodded and moved so that I could look at her sketch. It was of a
go over too well.
"I like that. Want me to mark it in the calendar for fall?" I was headed to
"Briar! That's so thoughtful!" she said, squeezing her daughter's
frosting.
shoulder. "How did she know purple is your favorite color?"
"We can't let our town's best thirteen-year-old artist's birthday go by
her twinhad died unexpectedly and I'd begged not to have to leave my
get such a heart of gold, Briar Rose? Certainly not from me." She winked.
tendrils that fell to my waist. The dark red-brown hue was apparently a
signature of my dad's side of the family, while most relatives onmy mom's
soft music playing in the background. Real candles were a firehazard, but
My aunt was watching from the counter when I returned. "Where'd you
battery-powered ones littered shelves around the room, stuffed between
could watch thetraffic that came off the highway, with people stopping for
reason I'd been able to finish middle and high school in Weed, the small
lift my spirits. Vera's Café always smelled of sugar. Walking into the place
college was another moment my mom wouldn't be there for.
most significant being when she'd invited me to live with her after my mom
town my mom had wanted me to grow up in.
grinned at me, closed her eyes, and blew it out.
My mom had painted it not long before the accident, and customers
slight sense of melancholy. Emma had just turned thirteen, the birthday age
and I didn't expect that to change once I started at the local community
would cherish every moment they had together. The impending start of
As we cleaned and closed the bakery that evening, I tried to shake off a
was a striking painting of a local pasture.
without celebrating." I lit the candle and set it in front of Emma. She
The caféhad been my favorite place to do homework in highschool,
commented on it regularly. Every time that happened, my heartexpanded a
big marshmallow at heart. It came through in a million different ways, the
books and other curiosities. And on one wall, nestled inside a gilded frame,
"Maybe it came with my auburn hair," I joked, fluffing the wavy
side had raven hair.
little, grateful that people were still admiring her work.
was likeentering a cozy cottage, with plants trailing along the walls and
friends to move in with the dadI wasn't close to in Seattle. She was the
I paused to take in the feeling of the café, which helped groundme and
college. My seat of choice was a counter stool that faced the street, where I
my mom had never lived to seefor me. I hoped that Emma and her mom
I laughed but knew it wasn't true. My aunt had some sass, but she was a
a food and refueling break.
I only had two more years in this little town, and then I'd be off to a
university. It felt like an eternity and nothing at all at the same time.
tonight," Aunt Vera said, dissolving my thoughts of the future. The musings
tucking away my small hourly wage into my tuition and bookfund, and
during a random summer encounter in the woods. But the curious part of
work out the way I'd always dreamed they would. The way I'd been
or Canada. Other travelers made their way south, destined for San Francisco
through for road trips to the Oregon coast or even farther up to Washington
"Grab one of the sourdough loaves, will you? I'm making soup
I wrapped a loaf of sourdough in paper, removed my daisy-printed mini
had become more frequent recently as I wondered if my plans were going to
list of classes for the millionth time. Thiswas what I needed to be focusing
up.
seemed that everyone was heading home, just in time for the start of the
with the semester starting tomorrow, I would need to begin spending it.
Summer was always the busiest time at Vera's Café, since people passed
the stairs to our apartment above my aunt's business.
or the SouthernCalifornia beaches and amusement parks. This week, it
school year.
"That afternoon rush was intense," I said as we turned and walked up
I did not need to be dwelling on the strange sensation I'd experienced
always droppeddown to weekends only once school started. I'd been
onmy future and continuing my mom's legacy.
I rolled my shoulders as we entered the apartment and went to check my
striving for for six years.
backpack from the hook in the back room, and joined my aunt as we locked
I'd been working full time in the summers for the past few years, but I
my brain that I struggled to turn off refused to forget it.